Adam was alone in a sea of humanity. His next appointment wasn’t until four o’clock, so on heading back to Lincoln Park, he’d visited the city zoo in an attempt to clear his head. He’d come here as a boy and in his mind’s eye it was a huge, rambling place that you could lose yourself in.
Today, however, the zoo seemed smaller than he remembered. Furthermore, it was packed with family groups and school students enjoying the spring sunshine. Adam’s first instinct was to abandon his visit. No entrance fee had been paid and there were other places in the park he could go, but after a moment’s hesitation he decided to persevere. He didn’t want solitude, he wanted distraction, and he wasn’t prepared to give up on this trip down memory lane just yet.
And with each passing step his mood began to improve. There were some parts of the zoo he recognized and other exhibits, such as the lion enclosure, which were new to him. The lions had predictably drawn the biggest crowds, and as Adam stood by the barrier, taking in the scene before him, he found himself smiling. Dozens of rapt toddlers were virtually clambering over the safety rail in an attempt to get closer to the lions – they were fearless, transfixed, curious. He was just the same at their age.
Back then, it was one of his favourite places to come and he often nagged his parents to be allowed to visit. And though short on means and time, they always obliged. His father worked double shifts, six days a week, and was utterly spent by Sunday, but still he journeyed across town with his son on the bus, exchanging confidences, discussing baseball, weaving improbable stories, while sharing a bag of candy. And although it was slightly bittersweet for Adam to be back here, now that his father had passed away, the memory of their visits together filled him with love. Looking at the harassed parents today, juggling children, strollers, picnics and more, he realized how indulgent his father had been to him. But then perhaps that was the role of a parent, to subjugate one’s own desires and interests in the hope of raising a balanced, happy child? It had certainly been the case with his folks.
Moving away from the lions, Adam made towards the wading birds. Still his thoughts lingered on his parents, whom he’d buried six months apart. That was over ten years ago now, but the memory still provoked a powerful emotional reaction in him, principally because of the sudden nature of his father’s death. Happy, healthy, ebullient one minute, stone dead the next, the victim of a massive cardiac arrest. It had happened when his mother was alone in the house with her husband – in her panic, she’d called her son for advice, when she should have been dialling 911. Adam got there just after the paramedics, but by then it was already too late. His mother was not well and it was perhaps no great surprise that she succumbed soon after, but his father’s sudden death had come as a terrible shock to them all. It was only later they found out that his father had been suffering from heart disease for years, just as his father had before him.
Adam walked quickly away from the birds, even as another, more disturbing notion forced its way into his mind. Kassie. Adam had successfully banished her from his thoughts momentarily, but now he found himself replaying their conversations again. ‘I can see death before it happens.’ ‘I know how people die, when they will die …’ In spite of himself, Adam found he was reflecting on his own fate. His blood pressure had been a little high of late and, as Faith’s due date drew ever closer, he’d begun to wonder whether he should book himself in for a check-up. There was much more at stake now and given his family’s history of heart disease …
Now Kassie presented herself in his mind’s eye, talking animatedly about the awful curse of her knowledge. And just for a second Adam allowed himself to imagine what it would mean if there actually was something in what she was saying, as Faith had suggested. If Kassie genuinely did have ‘second sight’.
It was a thrilling but terrifying thought. Not just the notion that he had no control over his destiny, but that Kassie could foresee his end. If she could accurately predict his future, would he want to know? If she could tell him whether he was going to die at fifty of a cardiac arrest or at ninety after years of good living, would he have the courage to ask? Normally no, a hundred times no, but given that so many of members of his family had been struck down by –
Adam stopped walking, surprised to find himself at the exit. He’d been too wrapped up in his morbid fantasies to notice where he was going, letting his mind run away with itself when he should have been thinking about how to help Kassie. Now he felt foolish to have been so absorbed in pointless speculation that he’d unwittingly brought his visit to a premature end. Still, perhaps it was telling him something – that idle distraction only leads to introspection and that work is the best antidote to anxiety. Experience should have taught him that. Casting a quick look at his watch, he pushed through the crowds and was soon away and out through the exit.
It was nearly time for his four o’clock.