So, she unpacked.
Within an hour, she had her clothes, books, and toiletries in their places. She sat on the edge of her bed and checked her watch. 8:35 PM. She took out a book she’d been reading on the plane, but her eyes wouldn’t focus.
Jet lag, she told herself. It’ll go away. But four hours later, her eyes were still wide open, and her brain hadn’t even begun to shut down. It was like being high on speed.
At one o’clock in the morning, she talked herself into lying on the bed and made a game out of listening to the jungle’s sounds. She’d always won when she and her fellow veterinary students had played “which animal made this sound” in college. She’d even taught the boys how to identify bird calls. Danny was better at it than Stephen, but only because he loved to sit and listen. Stephen would rather be talking than listening.
She closed her eyes and listened. Besides the elephants’ grunting and an occasional barking dog, she heard a small monkey (she wasn’t sure what kind, and that irritated her), several night fisher-type birds, and some rustling that could have been a rodent or a cat (she’d seen several on the grounds earlier in the day). She’d identified more than twenty-five sounds when her body finally relaxed into the bed, and the jungle sounds disappeared into the sleep world.
It was a light sleep. She remained aware of her body and that she was in a strange place, but dreams intruded on reality. Short snippets of voices, deep and far-away. An image of someone’s hand, a small hand, reaching. The jolt of falling, then catching one’s self.
She had the sensation of floating, then Danny’s voice was in her ear. She sensed him nearby. In her dream, she reached for him, longing to press his skinny body against her, to hug him more tightly than she ever had.
She held her arms out again.
Mom, you remember the time we went to that zoo in, where was it? Asheville?
Asheboro, sweetie. It was in Asheboro. She knows she’s saying the words aloud, talking in her sleep, and feels her consciousness rise a little, but she doesn’t want to wake up. Not as long as she can see her boys.
I didn’t like that place. Don’t think the animals did either.
I know. That’s why I’m here. I’m trying to make sure animals like those zoo animals have a better life.
An image of a carousel, a man selling pine cones nearby, the laughter of a young girl. She suddenly straddled a white steed, its mane festooned with carved wooden roses so real she could almost smell them. It was summer. She felt the sun’s heat through the long filmy dress she wore. She watched its pink ripples flow beneath her, blown by the soft breeze across her face. In the distance, the squeak of a young elephant’s trumpet.
She woke abruptly. Sat upright in the bed. The world around her was quiet. No animal sounds at all. She laid back down and closed her eyes.
The dream was still there. She slid into it, longing for her sons, calling Danny’s name in her mind, but she wasn’t near the carousel anymore. Instead she stood on the edge of an expansive meadow. Small white and yellow flowers blossomed at the top of hip-deep grasses that swayed like the waves of the ocean, mounding, then flattening and retreating.
She touched the flowers. They felt warm, as if some of the sun’s rays had heated them. She moved into the grasses, felt their weight against her skirts, bent her head back to the sky.
Where are you? she called. The words expressed themselves, but this time she somehow knew she hadn’t vocalized them. Her message would be heard, though. She knew that for sure. Where are you?
A cold wind whispered across her face.
She awoke once more, her cheeks wet, the corners of her eyes swollen, and with a sob in the back of her throat, she turned over and slept.