Chapter Two - "leprechaun"

A tale of an addled mind (mine) the result of a horrendous shift assignment: the night f relief keeper worked one day shift, followed by two evening shifts (the swing shift) and two night shifts (graveyard). Even today, I shudder to recall what that regime did to my circadian rhythm, with significant impact on my physical and mental health. 

On a rainy night, after about three months of this chaotic lifestyle, I was making deliveries at the zoo to various animal areas. My delivery pickup truck was loaded with bags of grain and hay bales bound for a series of hoof stock barns called West and East Padds (paddocks). I made my way through West Padds and was pulling up to the gate for East Padds when silhouetted in my headlights, sitting atop the gate, was what appeared to be a leprechaun. He had very short legs, which were crossed and dangling over the top of the gate. I noticed his buttoned vest and a green hat tilted forward over his brow. There was a feather in his hat band. He was smiling and seemed to be actually enjoying the rain. Nevertheless, this was disconcerting. He was not supposed to be there, but I could only think, “Why is he smiling at me.” I grabbed my heavy flashlight (designed for the double duty of providing light and self-defense) and exited the truck. I turned to speak, but he was gone! Doubly disconcerting. I decided to back away in the safety of my truck and find the night security guard. We did not have two-way radios or cell phones then, so I had to search for him. I knew he would return to the Administration Building sooner or later, as that was where he liked to have a cup of coffee after making a circuit of the zoo. I waited there, and sure enough, he showed up in about twenty minutes. I did not use the word leprechaun to describe the gentleman sitting on the gate. (Dictionary.com defines a leprechaun as “a conventionalized literary representation of this figure as a little man who will reveal the location of a crock of gold to anyone who catches him.”) Yeah, I went with “intruder.”

We went through the paddocks and then the rest of the zoo, but of course, I never saw my leprechaun again. Nor, sad to say, did I claim my pot of gold. But I immediately began to question what exactly I had seen. Had I really seen anything at all, or was my tired mind playing tricks on me? I was not on any drug, nor was I then aware of scientific studies that described the impact of sleep deprivation and altered sleep schedules on physiology and brain function. I had to admit the possibility it was a hallucination despite never before (and never since) experiencing anything similar. I will always remember the green top hat and smile though.

I was a little spooked and extra cautious for a few nights afterward, but I am happy to say that I never encountered another after-hours intruder for the rest of my tour of duty on the night shifts, which would stretch out to almost 18 months.