Rachel in Love Read Free Page B

and find herself at home in bed. When she hears the click of a key in the door to the room, she hugs herself more tightly.
    A man in green coveralls pushes a cart filled with cleaning supplies into the room. He takes a broom from the cart, and begins sweeping the concrete floor. Over the rows of cages, she can see the top of his head bobbing in time with his sweeping. He works slowly and methodically, bending down to sweep carefully under each row of cages, making a neat pile of dust, dung, and food scraps in the center of the aisle.
    * * *
    The janitor’s name is Jake. He is a middle-aged deaf man who has been employed by the Primate Research Center for the past seven years. He works night shift. The personnel director at the Primate Research Center likes Jake because he fills the federal quota for handicapped employees, and because he has not asked for a raise in five years. There have been some complaints about Jake—his work is often sloppy—but never enough to merit firing the man.
    Jake is an unambitious, somewhat slow-witted man. He likes the Primate Research Center because he works alone, which allows him to drink on the job. He is an easy-going man, and he likes the animals. Sometimes, he brings treats for them. Once, a lab assistant caught him feeding an apple to a pregnant rhesus monkey. The monkey was part of an experiment on the effect of dietary restrictions on fetal brain development, and the lab assistant warned Jake that if he would be fired if he was ever caught interfering with the animals again. Jake still feeds the animals, but he is more careful about when he does it, and he has never been caught again.
    As Rachel watches, the old chimp gestures to Jake.—Give banana, the chimp signs.—Please banana. Jake stops sweeping for a minute and reaches down to the bottom shelf of his cleaning cart. He returns with a banana and offers it to the old chimp. The chimp accepts the banana and leans against the mesh while Jake scratches his fur.
    When Jake turns back to his sweeping, he catches sight of Rachel and sees that she is watching him. Emboldened by his kindness to the old chimp, Rachel timidly gestures to him.—Help me.
    Jake hesitates, then peers at her more closely. Both his eyes are shot with a fine lacework of red. His nose displays the broken blood vessels of someone who has been friends with the bottle for too many years. He needs a shave. But when he leans close, Rachel catches the scent of whiskey and tobacco. The smells remind her of Aaron and give her courage.
    —Please help me, Rachel signs.—I don’t belong here.
    For the last hour, Jake has been drinking steadily. His view of the world is somewhat fuzzy. He stares at her blearily.
    Rachel’s fear that he will hurt her is replaced by the fear that he will leave her locked up and alone. Desparately she signs again.—Please please please. Help me. I don’t belong here. Please help me go home.
    He watches her, considering the situation. Rachel does not move. She is afraid that any movement will make him leave. With a majestic speed dictated by his inebriation, Jake leans his broom on the row of cages behind him and steps toward Rachel’s cage again.—You talk? he signs.
    —I talk, she signs.
    —Where did you come from?
    —From my father’s house, she signs.—Two men came and shot me and put me here. I don’t know why. I don’t know why they locked me in jail.
    Jake looks around, willing to be sympathetic, but puzzled by her talk of jail.—This isn’t jail, he signs.—This is a place where scientists raise monkeys.
    Rachel is indignant.—I am not a monkey, she signs.—I am a girl.
    Jake studies her hairy body and her jug-handle ears.—You look like a monkey.
    Rachel shakes her head.—No. I am a girl.
    Rachel runs her hands back over her head, a very human gesture of annoyance and unhappiness. She signs sadly,—I don’t belong here. Please let me out.
    Jake shifts his weight from foot to foot, wondering what to do.—I