Brooklyn Zoo by Darcy Lockman

Author:Darcy Lockman [Lockman, Darcy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-385-53429-1
Publisher: Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group
Published: 2012-07-17T04:00:00+00:00

“What’s the date?”

It was not an extraordinary question, but its asker made it so: the young and handsome and well-groomed Mr. Rumbert, from Barbados, had not uttered a syllable since he’d arrived in CPEP three days earlier, and now here he was with a complete sentence. We’d spent several groups together, and I hoped that his attendance had contributed at least a little to the end of his mutism or at least to the fact that he had chosen me to speak with. “Mr. Rumbert! You’re talking today! You must be feeling so much better.” My enthusiasm was intended to impress upon him, as Dr. T. had taught, what it meant for him to improve. I told him the date was October 26.

“I thought it was some—” He stopped abruptly and stared at me with concern. We were standing in the hallway outside T.’s office.

“What is it?” I asked.

“It’s your eyes,” he said. “I’m not sure if maybe they could zap me.” I assured him they could not and asked him to come into the office to chat. As we were getting seated, T. arrived. I began the interview.

“You’re so much better today. Do you have a sense of why?”

T. cut me off with her hand. She looked at me. “Too complicated,” she said. She turned to Mr. Rumbert. “Did you get breakfast?” she asked. “You haven’t been eating.”

“It’s hard to eat because I can’t leave. It’s like I’m in prison,” he said.

I started, “This isn’t a—,” only to be cut off by T.

“Does he know where he is?” T. asked me quietly. I asked him.

“It may be a prison. I’m not sure,” he said. His accent was refined. Slightly English sounding.

“You’re in a hospital, sweetie,” said T. He pondered that information. “Why don’t you go out and have a seat and think about that?” she suggested, but Mr. Rumbert stayed where he was. T. began to do paperwork, and he sat and watched, trying to figure out if she warranted his trust or his suspicion. T. left with some papers in hand, and Mr. Rumbert and I remained in the office. He turned to me.

“You remind me of a character on a show on the Sci-Fi channel,” he told me. “The guy on the show is trapped in this village, and people try to convince him of things. You look like one of those people.”

“You’re worried that I want to convince you of something that’s not true,” I interpreted. “Me and Dr. T.”

He laughed. I looked at him, puzzled.

“It’s her name,” he said. “It’s funny.”

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