Read Online We Are Both Mammals by G. Wulfing - Free Book Online Page B

this moment, knowing
that I would be joined to one for the rest of my days, it was, in
my heart of hearts, difficult not to feel that I was joining myself
to an animal.
    I closed my eyes for a moment, and gulped
hugely.
    I would accept that.
    Fangs, fur, tufted ears, and all. I would
accept it.
    I forced my eyes open again and made myself
stare at Toro-a-Ba. I could feel myself shaking slightly, and I
could not pretend that it was only because I was weary, emotionally
drained, and a little cold. This was him. This was the creature who
was attached to me. This was the creature with whom I would spend
the rest of my life, as with a spouse or ‘significant other’.
    His name was Vi-i-a Toro-a Ni-Ev.
    That was the name his parents gave him. The
Vi-i-a family – I was joined to a member of it. Vi-i-a Toro-a
Ni-Ev … that name would become familiar to me; perhaps almost as
familiar as my own.
    No spouse, no children, for me. I could
accept that.
    No normal life, ever. I could accept
that.
    Orphans are never really normal, anyway.
    I would be a freak for the rest of my days,
as would Toro-a.
    I would accept that.
    I stared at Toro-a-Ba for a long time; I do
not know how long. At length, his eyes opened and he looked
straight at me, as though even before he woke he had sensed that he
was being watched.
    We looked at each other for a long time, in
silence.
    Before, I could scarcely bear to glance at
him. Now, I could not look away.
    I could see Toro-a reading my face. Still he
said nothing, but I could see him … knowing.
    After a long moment, I realised that I was
crying again; slow, cool tears were parading down my face in the
tremulous light of dawn.
    Eventually the nurses came in to check on us
as usual at about six o’clock, and Toro-a-Ba and I behaved as
normal. The nurses, seeing my tear-streaked countenance, asked me
with concern if I was all right, and I assured them that I was all
right, that I was in no especial pain, and that I had simply not
slept well. I do not know how much of this they believed, but they
had seen me in distressed states before and knew that distress was
simply to be expected in my case.
    Later, after breakfast, we were alone once
more, and had picked up our books to read, propped up on our
pillows; though I for one was not reading.
    I wanted to speak to him, but would almost
rather have shoved my head into a bucket of ice-water than try. I
felt shy, self-conscious and awkward, and somehow ashamed.
    I dallied for a long time, and then decided
that it would never get any easier. I would have to speak to him at
some point. After all the ignoring of him that I had done, was it
not my turn to speak? After all that he had done for me, was it too
much for me to speak openly with him about something that concerned
us both?
    My fingers had been holding open my
paperback book where it rested on its stand; I let the book slowly
sink closed onto them. I turned my head to look at Toro-a-Ba.
    He met my gaze within a few seconds, as
though he had been monitoring me out of the corner of his eye. I
looked away and down, at the bedclothes toward the foot of the
bed.
    “ Erm … Toro-a-Ba …” I
began, sounding, even to my own ears, very unsure of
myself.
    “ What is it, Daniel?”
Toro-a-Ba murmured. ‘Daniel’, again.
    “ Erm … I … I should like
to live,” I fumbled. Then I dared to glance at him.
    Toro-a-Ba nodded slowly in acknowledgement.
I could not tell what he was thinking.
    And then, mercifully, I saw him smile. His
ears relaxed, his face softened, the eyelids over those round dark
eyes drooped slightly, and the corners of his mouth curled upwards
a little.
    “ I understand,” he said
softly. “Thank you for telling me.”
    And, for some reason, all I wanted to do was
weep some more.
    I lay back on my pillows and stared straight
ahead at the wall, unsteadily pulling my fingertips from the book,
fighting tears so hard that I could not stop my face from twitching
and my breath from being