The Human Zoo (1)

Chapter 8 - Jax

Deice and I sit in a corner booth at Oculus. Ever since we were kids, we've come here to eat the fattening foods and play the virtual games. The atmosphere is lively and fun. Now as adults, we feel out of place.

Even though Oculus caters to all ages, it can't hide that the majority is made up of raging hormonal teenagers and curious children looking for their next real-life experience. Only a few college kids make up the older crowd, making Deice and I seem like chaperones. The layout is simple enough. It's mainly dark, with black painted walls and neon lights lining pathways to an array of lounges, chairs, and gaming centers. Near the bar are bright yellow booths with hexagonal pattern weaved into them. That is where Deice and I sit now.

We order two rounds of Medicine Bear, a type of oak beer I've learned to love. It's woody, robust, and a little spicy.

"Think we're a little old for this place now?" I begin, sipping my beer.

"Eh, probably. But who wants to go hang out at an adult bar, with real adults? Oculus is way more fun."

"Yeah, what a dumb idea," I say.

Silence surrounds us as we both look down into our drinks. It's obvious he wants to say something but Deice has never been the most forthcoming of people.

"You can go ahead and say it," I coax him.

He chuckles. "No one told me the downside of having a best friend: they can read you like the back of their hand."

I shrug taking another sip.

"Since you're you, I'm assuming you already know what I'm going to say?"

"Maybe," I raise an eyebrow, "We won't know unless you say what's on your mind though."

"Hey, remember that one time with the fish?" Deice changes subject.

A sly smile creeps up on my face. Deice must have something private to tell me because he always begins with an old memory. Almost like a way to help him gain the courage to spit it out. My mind plays his game and travels back to the time I hid a fish in the air vent to Corinne's bedroom. It smelled for a whole month.

"Sure do. You better keep quiet about that! Even today she doesn't know how it got inside."

Deice's eyes start to come alive. "What about that other time you hid speakers in her room and played the sound of children laughing? That was genius—creepy, now that I think about it. You were a horrible little brother."

"We both know she deserved it," I defend myself.

"This is true," he adds. "Has everything calmed down since Corinne's outburst?"

"Yeah, for the most part. She's still lashing out but only when my father isn't around."

Deice nods his head sullenly, and I know his real concern is about to surface. "Jax, you're my best friend, and I'll support you no matter what you do in life. You know that. But I must say this: If what everyone says is true about The Originals, then I think you should be terrified. You should be scared that you will not make it out alive because they truly will be the savage animals that we believe they are, with no conception of what is right and wrong." He then signals me closer, and adds as quietly as he can, "But if we're wrong, and they aren't the animals everyone thinks they are, then I'd be scared to leave. Because if it's not true, then what are we?"

***

I sit in my father's office at the top of the tower in the middle of the zoo, waiting for him to join me. He scheduled a meeting with me to discuss the details of my stay at the zoo. Anxious, I look at my watch again. He is ten minutes late. Matías is a man of many traits, and punctuality is at the top of the list. As I try to wait patiently, I admire his office's simplicity. Its inherent power never ceases to amaze me.

The light gray walls compliment the dark wood floors. A large bay window is to my left, and the zoo spreads itself out before me with open arms. The entire room is exposed, welcoming only the bravest of souls who enter my father's office.

One-minute passes. I sigh.

My father's desk sits silently in front of me. It is large, white, and oval; a unique design for an office setting, I think. It's lined with earthy features, simulating the room. Pristine white couches and a large printed rug fill the rest of the space. There are no photos or any personal artifacts to show that my father has a family. It's another blunt reminder that he cares more about his work than about us.

Two minutes.

Three minutes.

Another five minutes' pass before my father barges through the door. His cheeks are rosy, and his eyes are wide.

"Jax, son, I apologize for keeping you waiting." He heads to the chair behind his desk, being sure to sit above me, maintaining a position of authority.

"Is everything alright? You are never late."

"Never is a little extreme. Superlatives don't leave room for error, Jax. Anyways, something has come up that will unfortunately delay your expedition."

"How long of a delay are we talking?" Sylvia offered the board three months stay for me in the zoo, with visits in different sub-sections. The member's disagreed and gave me a maximum of one month, in one sub-section. A delay would undoubtedly cut into my time and be something I can't afford.

"A sickness has spread in the Mongoloid exhibit. All individual sectors are shut down. Negroid and Caucasian seem to be fine, for now."

"I don't see how it affects me then. I'll be in an entirely different sector from the Mongoloid's."

"It doesn't matter. Diseases spread like wildfire. We aren't taking any chances."

"Matías, please. You've raised me to be vigilant, to use strength and to remain focused in all situations. Anything you haven't taught me, my genetics make up for, so please trust me when I say I can do this," I say with authority.

"Fine. Give me five days. Five days to make sure it's clear. Then we'll implant you." I nod in agreement, not wanting to test my luck.

***

After leaving my father's office, I felt restless and edgy. But those feelings are nothing to the sinking pit in my stomach as I sit across from Sylvia in her office, waiting for her response.

Her style is simple and chic, but professional. The walls are a light sage, and the floor is dark wood. The furniture is scattered throughout the room uniformly. It is all a soft cream color. It shows her personality without being abrasive. Although her furniture can tell me what she is like, it cannot say what she is thinking. I just informed her that there would have to be a five-day hiatus before I enter the zoo. "FIVE DAYS!" Sylvia finally shouts, throwing her hands up in the air. I watch as she paces the room.

"It's the best I could do," I tell her.

"I don't know how the board is going to feel about this. They're taking a risk with this project anyways. Any added uncertainties could make them reconsider."

"Maybe they don't have to know?" I ask.

She freezes, then turns around to face me. Her green eyes light up at my suggestion. "Yes, maybe they don't have to know." She rushes to her laptop and begins typing rapidly. I sit patiently; afraid distractions will make her lose focus. "You, my friend," she tells me, pausing her typing, "are going to SHIT."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. SHIT: Safety & Handling Introductory Training. It's a class. I just made it up. This is where you'll be for the next five days. It's mandatory training prior to your one-month trial. The board doesn't have to know."

"And what exactly will I be supposedly doing at this training?"

"Well, Jax, I'm surprised you don't know since you're the one who's going to attend it." She smiles to herself, pleased with her own humor. "SHIT teaches safety and proper ways to handle yourself in the zoo. Think of it as a self-defense class, a way we can cover our asses in case anything happens."

"So, an imaginary class will save The Globe from a hefty lawsuit for a hypothetical situation?"

"Yes, exactly."

I smile broadly, "Genius."