The Zoo - Chapter 8

When Mortimer woke, it was a day like any other. He was expecting the same isolation he had been experiencing for some time. How long had it been? Instead, he was rudely awakened by the loud noises of appendages clapping, voices yelling, and raucous heckling sounds he had begun to recognize as laughter.

“What now?” he thought as he stood up groggily to investigate.

Mortimer rubbed his eyes and looked around. The seats above were all filled again. It was the same diverse crowd of odd-looking creatures that had gathered around his cage before. Had they come to see him? No, they would not be laughing and cheering at the spectacle of watching him sleep. Something else must have changed to bring them back.

His heart leaped into his throat, a pounding anxiety shooting through him. Was Grug alive? Did they manage to heal him? They seemed capable of feats he had never imagined, so why couldn’t they bring back the dead? Were Mortimer’s captors, so cruel they would put Grug back together in this new pen? His body started shaking with dread at the thought.

No, Mortimer had seen Grug’s death. Besides, if his captors wanted them together again, they would have done it already. Besides, if they did bring Grug back, one of them would kill the other, and he didn’t feel like this wasn’t what they wanted. Besides, he could smell something different, something new and somewhat familiar.

Mortimer began to explore his pen once again. For the first time in a while, he didn’t return to his familiar area to pace restlessly. No, this time he set out with a purpose. It was difficult at first. When you build a routine, breaking the pattern was never easy. Several times, he turned back, convinced that the crowds were honestly interested in some other pen, but then they cheered again and his curiosity grew.

The subtle smell grew stronger the closer he came, and he felt increasing drawn to find the source. He strolled around the shed that hummed, then past the tire fields. He wandered to the highest ground, a hill that receded near the stream that wrapped around this enclosure, and that’s when he saw someone new.

They looked very similar to him, and his first instinct was to compare sizes. If they were larger, he’d have to be cautious. However, to his relief, their stature was quite small. There eyes were wider, their hair longer, the looked more fragile looking. It took him a long time to realize he was looking a female. She was different from the females back home, if he could recall back then as much more than a blur. Her hair was red and wild, and she had little dots all over her body.

His eyes couldn’t help but lower, and he saw that she wasn’t wearing any clothing. It had an almost immediate affect on him, as his manhood began to rise and stiffen. He shrunk back behind a tree, not wanting the viewers or this female to notice him in such a state.

He tried to will the erection to subside, but it had been too long since he had felt any arousal. He looked around. None of the spectators seemed to have noticed him there. There were some bushes nearby. He slinked slowly over to the bushes where he hid himself so he could just see out but he was certain no one else could see in and he watched.

The female was exploring, reveling in the open space as if she had been couped up in a smaller pen. It kind of reminded Mortimer of himself during those earlier days. Mortimer surmised she was the reason the crowds had left his environment. They wanted to watch the new creature. But why did they combine them now? Perhaps his captors realized she also needed more space. Perhaps she had killed her cellmate the way Mortimer had murdered Grug. Perhaps they put her here to see if Mortimer would kill her too.

He would not.

Mortimer was already dealing with the guilt associated with taking a life. It was not his way. In what was left of his foggy memory, he knew he had never acted with violence before Grug. He had been pushed to his limit, and he was ashamed. If he felt that way again, he knew he would retreat instead of letting out the rage.

His body shifted as he squatted behind the bush. Instinctively, his hand had grasped his erect penis. Watching the creature’s graceful movements and playful romping was keeping him on edge. Without thinking, he began masturbating himself. It did not take long until he exploded over the bushes.

He felt relieved as his penis softened a bit. Then he felt a surge of fear as he realized he made an extremely loud howl when he orgasmed, and it had caught the attention of the audience and the female. Already she was dancing over towards his bush.

He was not ready for this. He started to shake with panic and chose that moment to run back to his bed area hoping she would stop the chase once she realized he was running away.

Luckily, she did, choosing to stay on her side of the river rather than cross over the water. Mortimer huddled next to his bed, cursing himself for being so foolish for yelling. Embarrassed that the audience and this new creature caught him in that vulnerable moment. He wrapped his arms around his knees, pulling them to his chest, and slowly rocked back and forth.

The first cycle the female did not come to him. He could only see a small part of the enclosure from his bed area. Mortimer skipped the first feeding, afraid to meet up with the female during feeding. When he thought long enough had passed, he crept over to the feeding shed and found his tray intact, next to an empty tray. She was already different from Grug as she did not eat his food.

Mortimer grabbed his tray and returned to his eating area. He ate slowly, methodically, saving one piece of the red stuff in his stockpile. This went on for two more cycles. During this, Mortimer could hear the crowds cheering, laughing, and even singing. Then, after the fourth cycle, the crowds did not come. The overhead lights remained dim. This was his chance to observe the female without a throng of creatures watching. With any luck, she would be sleeping.

Stealthily, Mortimer crept to the edge of the river. His previous explorations had given him the knowledge that the other side of the river was nearly a mirror image of his side. He knew where her bed cave would be. He tried to be as silent as possible. Painstakingly, he crossed the river. There, not too far away was the cave. He stood far away and arced around until he could see into the cave.

Too late he realized the female was not in bed as he thought. A small tire flew past his face, nearly clocking him in the head. He turned to see a cautious naked female staring at him. He recognized the look on her face. It was the same look he had given Grug when they first met. A mixture of fear of the unknown, and perhaps hopefulness?

Mortimer tooked a long look at her. She was even more physically attractive than he had thought from afar. Her eyes were an unnatural green. She was hairless except on the top of her head and a small patch between her legs. Her skin was a tad red, and that redness made the dark spots on her cheeks and chest stand out more. She must have just come from the river because her hair was wet and plastered to her cheeks. When she noticed where Mortimer’s eyes went, she covered her chest and pubic region with her arm and hand.

“My name is Mortimer!”

The female looked at him uncomprehending. Mortimer sighed. A small part of him had hoped she would speak his language. She looked so much like his species.

He tapped his chest again.

“Mortimer,” he said louder as if the volume, hoping she understood.

She remained silent, as she stared at him. He reached out to her, and at first she flinched, but then she slowly let him take her hand. He touched it to his chest. Unexpectedly he felt a rush of arousal. It was not his intention but the feeling surged unbidden. How long since he last had physical contact? In a voice nearly a whisper, he said his name again, pushing her pointer finger against his chest.

This time she seemed to understand. Poking him firmly and saying “Mormer.” She poked and repeated “Mormer” over and over as if the name was the most curious of words. Then, she took his hand, caressing it as if it was something alien to her. She guided it to her chest, placing it over her right breast. He felt her breathing swell and fall. He felt her nipple press into the palm of his hand. She spoke a name which he immediately memorized, Deb.

That wasn’t excactly her name. Though the sounds echoed in his head, he had difficulty matching the tonality and pronunciation. It had been too long without trying speech. Even when he dealt with Grug, the guy had never attempted any speech more complicated than a grunt.

After multiple attempts, he settled on calling her Deb. He also gave up trying to get her to properly pronounce Mortimer. He realized the languages were far different and certain sounds seemed foreign to her and some of her sounds seemed impossible for him.

Deb seemed overjoyed to have established communication. But she still seemed to distrust his motives. Other than the lingering touch when they exchanged names, she seemed satisfied to back away as soon as he made a move to get closer to her.

He tried to convince her he was safe but their lack of language was making that difficult to convey. So, he mentally set aside the burning desire he felt in his body and instead began teaching her to communicate.

At first, he attempted to repeat the name exchange with the objects around them. This worked to some extent. She was able to pick up simple concepts such as water, dirt, and bed. However, she struggled greatly with other concepts such as tire, bowl, and window. Mortimer was not sure whether it was because she did not have those things where she was from or because he was not able to properly convey the words in a manner she would understand.

Several times, he nearly gave up. Then he decided to try hand gestures. This seemed more palatable to Deb and soon they had over thirty hand signs for basic needs. Eating involves a motion of picking something up and pretending to place it in the mouth. With this, he was able to discern that while he found the green things less than palatable, Deb enjoyed them but seemed to have a distaste for the red stuff. By the second feeding cycle, they traded the colors they preferred without even having to ask.

He made turning motions with his fingers passing over each other when he finally got her to understand the tire. Patting his butt and then the ground, or a haystack, was the motion for sitting. Imitating running in place was the sign for going for a run. Simple really. The last one he taught her was a handshake. It was the first time other than the name exchange that she had let him touch her hand. It excited him, both as a breakthrough and in an arousing way. But they had built a shaky trust and he did not want her to view him as intruding the way Grug had made Mortimer feel. So, he was content holding her hand as they went up for another feeding cycle.

Mortimer was not surprised that Deb’s plate now contained more of the green things and less of the red things and his plate contained more red and less green. The surprising thing was the concept that, even though they knew the preference, they left one or two of the negative colors on the other’s plates. Mortimer thought about this, did his captors want them to trade? Had they realized the two were using the trading as a way of bonding? In the back of his mind, he questioned whether he was being manipulated by geniuses or experimented with by idiots.

After the third feeding since Mortimer had woken, he began walking toward the river. Deb followed but for some reason stopped when he crossed over. He motioned for her to join him but she would not move. Maybe she wanted him to stay over there. He pointed toward her bed. She looked sad but turned and headed slowly toward her bed cave without looking back. Maybe he had misunderstood her needs. But he was getting very sleepy and he would have plenty of time to expand their communication when he woke.

Mortimer climbed into his hay bed and tried to sleep. Though he was able to get sleep, it was fitful and filled with erotic dreams of Deb and nightmares involving Grug.