“Tiger.”
“Rat.” Ryan opens the dictionary and starts copying down words in his notebook. Aardvark. Abalone.
“Pteradactyl.”
Ryan frowns. “That’s P.” Abbey, he writes. Aberdeen.
“Just making sure you’re paying attention,” Alonzo purrs from the bottom bunk. Ryan hears his own pencil going. “Tarantula.”
“Aardvark.” Abidjan. Ability.
“Kangaroo.”
“Octopus.” Abkhazia. Abnormality.
“Snake.”
“Eel.” Absorbency. Absorptivity.
“Lion.”
Ryan pauses for a moment. “Narwhal?” Absurdity.
“Lionfish.”
“Helicopter.” Abu Dhabi. Abuja. Acadia National Park.
Alonzo tuts. “Not an animal, sweetheart.”
Acceptability. Accessibility. Accessory.
“Tick-tock,” Alonzo sing-songs.
“Hen,” Ryan says finally. Acclivity.
“Newt.”
“Turtle.” Accountability. Accountancy.
“Echidna.”
“Abalone.” Accra.
“Oooh, abalone,” Alonzo echoes appreciatively. “Smart.”
“It’s your turn.” Accuracy. Acerbity.
“Hmm.” The scratching of Alonzo’s pencil stops, replaced by a light tapping against the notepad. “Electric eel.”
“I already said eel.” Acid reflux. Acidity.
“But not electric eel.” The scratching resumes. “All kinds of eels out there, sugar.”
“Fine.” Acrimony. Acromegaly. “Lemur.”
“Rodent.”
“That doesn’t count.” Activity.
“Rabbit.”
Actuality. Actuary. Acuity. “Terrier.”
“Ray.”
Ryan sighs irritably and flips to the end of the dictionary.
“10, 9, 8...”
“Yorkshire terrier.”
“Raccoon,” Alonzo replies promptly, and Ryan can hear the smile in his voice. He flips to the middle of the dictionary, scanning pages.
“10, 9, 8, 7...”
“Um...”
“6, 5, 4...”
“Nurse shark,” Ryan says.
“Kiwi.”
“I, i,” Ryan mutters. He starts to flip to I, then stops. “Irish terrier.”
“Perhaps ‘terrier’ shouldn’t have counted,” Alonzo muses. “Shall we go back to T?”
“You can’t think of an R?”
“Red panda.”
“Uh...” Ryan runs his finger down his list, flips back to A, scans. “Ant.”
“Ter-mite.”
“Elephant.” Anteater. Antelope. He circles them, then flips back to where he left off.
“Tiburón.”
“What? The fuck is a tiburón?”
“Shark.”
Ryan checks the dictionary. “It’s not here.”
“En español, querido.”
“You can’t use Spanish words.” He returns to A. Acute toxicity.
“What if I let you use Irish words?”
“I don’t know any Irish.” Ad agency. Adamancy.
Alonzo hums. “Italian words?”
“Don’t know any Italian animals.” Adaptability.
“Cane. Gatto. Scimmia.”
“Gatto is...cat?” Adder. Circled.
“Very good.”
“You still need a T. In English.” Addis Adaba.
“Tapir.”
“Reindeer.” Additionality.
“Roach.”
“Horse.” Adelaide.
“Eagle.”
Adenoidectomy. Adequacy. Adhocracy. “Emu.”
“Hmm...” Ryan hears a page flip. “Urchin.”
He checks N again. “Nightingale,” he says, cutting off Alonzo’s “10”. Nautilus. Naked mole rat.
“Elk.”
“Koala.” Adjacency.
“Anteater.” Ryan crosses out Anteater on his sheet.
“Rattlesnake.” Admissibility.
“Emperor penguin.”
“Nautilus.” Adrenal cortex.
“Skua.”
Ryan pauses. “Skua?”
“Sku-a,” Alonzo repeats, drawing out the vowels. “It’s a bird. Look it up.”
Ryan turns to S. “Skua,” he reads out. “Okay.”
“Skua. Skuuuua.”
“Antelope.” He crosses it out.
“Eh. El. Elephant...fish?” Alonzo sounds doubtful. Pages flip. “Elephant fish,” he says again, more confident this time.
“Hummingbird.” Adrenolectomy.
“Dog.”
“Gecko.”
“Orca.”
“Lights out!” the hack calls. Darkness falls, obscuring the words on the page. Ryan curses.
“Orca?” Alonzo repeats, tossing his notebook to the floor with a thunk.
Ryan closes his notebook and the dictionary, shoving the former under his pillow and leaning over to carefully drop the latter on top of Alonzo’s notebook. “Anglerfish,” he replies after a moment, before remembering adder.
“Hare.”
“Elephant seal.”
“Lamb.”
“Bird.” He waits for Alonzo to object, but Alonzo just replies, “Deer,” with a yawn.
“Ratfish.”
Alonzo snorts. “Ratfish?”
“Yep.” Ryan puts his hands behind his head. “Ratfish.”
“I think you might be making that up, sugar.”
“Nope. Ratfish.”
A light chuckle. “Okay.”
“10, 9, 8...” Ryan begins.
“Hagfish,” Alonzo says. “And that one is real.”
“Hammerhead.”
“Dogfish.”
“Horsefish.”
“Hyena.”
“Adder.”
“Rabbitfish.”
“Hamster.” Ryan waits for a moment, then starts counting, “10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5...”
“Raccoonfish,” comes the quiet reply.
“Hamsterfish.”
“Horsefish.”
“I already said horsefish.”
“Hare. Fish.” Almost a whisper.
“Hyenafish.”
Nothing.
“Alonzo?”
A soft snore.
Asleep, Ryan thinks, and shuts his eyes.