The Human Zoo (1)

Chapter 10 - Jax

The examining room smells of harsh chemicals, disinfectant, and mustiness. The walls are a crisp white that reflect the atmosphere of the place: sterile. I sit on a metal table, waiting for the good doctor to examine me. Although I'm mute, my toes fidget restlessly. These past five days have been full of anticipation, but finally, the hiatus is over. They have contained the disease. At what cost, I choose not to think. Tomorrow, Monday, I'll enter the zoo beginning my adventure.

Abruptly, the door to the room bursts open and a doctor walks in. "It's wonderful to meet you," the man says, sticking his hand out for me to shake. He has dark skin and gray eyes. Calm energy radiates off him, and immediately I am at ease.

"Likewise," I say shaking his hand.

"You are brave to do this. What these people—excuse me, animals—go through shouldn't be taken lightly. They live a rough, dangerous life. I hope you understand that." I notice his demeanor as he talks about The Originals. It seems that he thinks of them as humans, not animals.

"There has yet to be anything I can't handle. I love a challenge, and this is the greatest challenge of my life so far."

Dr. Jenkins eyes me suspiciously, then tabs through my chart on the thin pad. "The biggest thing that's going to affect you is the diet change. The animals are fed three times a day with an additional 'snack' per se when the crowd of viewers is large enough. Right now, you eat rich and fulfilling meals whenever you want them, meals full of all the macro and micro-nutrients your body needs. You'll become friends with hunger quickly."

"Noted," I say firmly.

"I see. Well, maybe it'll be good for your ego, no?" He jests. I don't respond. Dr. Jenkins runs over the list attached to my chart.

"Let's see . . . umm, you have my apologies; I've never had to do this before. I'm not sure what you need to know outside of the obvious. You'd think I'd be more prepared for this." He starts laughing.

"Okay, ah, a few recommendations for you: dumb down your speech, don't mention ANYTHING from our world and try to look tired all the time. Oh, you'll have to roll around in a pile of dirt, rocks, and other miscellaneous things to give you the appearance of living outside your entire life. Of course, the longer you live in the zoo, the more natural your presence will become." He pauses again, "There is also the matter of the tattoos each animal is branded with before they are put out on display. But I should have some temporary tattoos that will suffice. They should last about a month, if not longer. Don't worry, if it's still there when you leave, I'll be able to remove it."

Dr. Jenkins turns around and pulls something out from a drawer that I can't see. Then he hands me a pair of cutoff shorts.

"This is the attire for men during the summer months. But you'll quickly notice that most opt for nudity."

"A naked body isn't something new to me," I say.

He laughs. "I'm sure."

He mentions a few other odds and ends about safety and whatnot before going eerily silent. His humorous tones disappear. "In this profession," he says, "I learned transparency is key to an open patient-doctor relationship. Your father has placed me as your primary caretaker. There will be weekly checkups to make sure you're acclimating well. There will also be additional security put in your zone as a precautionary measure."

Annoyed, I grunt. "All this seems a little much, but fine. Is there anything else I need to know?"

"Remember—someone is always watching. There's no coming back from this. It'll change you forever."

Gazing up at him, my eyes search for some challenge, but I realize he's sincere. "Sometimes, Dr. Jenkins, change isn't the enemy."

***

When I get home, the smell of succulent meat and garlic fills my nose. My family has decided to treat me to my last big meal for a while. Even Deice is sitting at the table with everyone else. With my hands in my pockets, I stroll in to join them. As I sit down, I loosen my tie and unbutton the top button of my shirt, allowing for a little more breathing room. Together we sit at a lavishly dressed table while Neiva serves our meal.

My mother has tears flowing and worries as my sister keeps her quiet countenance, with her bitch face more pronounced than ever. My father, Deice, and I relive childhood athletic accomplishments. The mood is light and cheerful. As the finale to our meal, Neiva brings out some cake that looks like apples. It's delicious, and I finish my brandy before sitting back in my chair, feeling satiated. Time seems to be zipping by, and I realize this night could only improve if Corinne weren't here.

"Jax darling, is everything alright?" My mother asks as worry etches into her face.

"Yes, sorry. What were you saying?"

"We were wondering if you would be back in time for Corinne's twenty-fifth birthday. It's a big day, you know. She'll find out her Marriage Match." My mother's excitement is apparent.

The Marriage Match—what every girl dreams about in her spare time. In our culture, it's an unspoken rule to establish a stable profession before continuing to "The Rearing Years." It's more important to be educated and profitable than it is to waste time getting to know someone, which explains why a computer program matches two people based on genetics and lifestyle: it furthers the legacy of Eugenics.

"I don't know if I'll be able to make it. That's halfway between my research time."

"I'm sure you won't need the whole month to do research, darling," mother insists.

"If worse comes to worse," my father says, "I'll arrange your extraction for a day without any formalities that would hinder your research."

Immediately, I think back to what Dr. Jenkins said, "Someone is always watching."

"I'm sure you will," I whisper to myself.