Larger Than Life (Novella) by Jodi Picoult Read Free Book Online Page A

and chases it into the rangers’ village before I can catch
     up to her. The world is new to her, and as she gets stronger and bigger and the feedings
     stretch further apart, her skin grows smoother and softer, and she gets the round
     apple cheeks that Neo had said were a sign of good health.
    For all intents and purposes, I am Lesego’s mother now, until I can provide her with
     a surrogate. Grant assigns Neo to help me until Lesego is released. We are a tiny
     herd, but we are all Lesego has.
    I am a proud parent. I diligently mark her growth every few days, celebrating by feeding
     Lesego a small prepackaged sponge cake when she crosses the three-foot mark. Neo and
     I find toys for her—a broom, the inner tube from a bike tire, a spool of rope that
     she manages to unravel and weave through the posts of each cottage porch, so that
     the researchers’ village looks like a spiderweb.
    The other scientists may not want to admit it, but they like having her around. Anya
     takes pictures of Lesego to send home to her little sister. Paul, who has a fondness
     for chocolate olivers and never misses a teatime, offers a biscuit to Lesego, and
     now, whenever she sees him she breaks into a run and tries to search his pockets for
     the treat. Even Grant comes around more than usual on the pretense of checking logbooks,
     but he never leaves without seeing what Lesego is up to.
    However, I am Lesego’s favorite. She follows me up and down the main road that leads
     to our research office, waiting patiently outside and rumbling when I appear with
     whatever book I’ve come for. When she walks behind me, she hitches her trunk to the
     tail of my shirt. She knows she is not allowed inside the cottage, but she will sleep
     outside only if she can see me directly. I wind up rearranging my bed in the center
     of the room, and even then half the time I have to sleep beneath the stars with her
     so she will not bellow and wake the entire camp. When she awakens, the first thing
     I do is touch her around the mouth, like an elephant mother would, and let her reach
     her trunk toward my own face to check in, too.
    During these weeks, I try to call my own mother—twice. The first time she does not
     answer; the second time, the circuits in Botswana are jammed and the call will not
     go through. I take these failed attempts as a cosmic sign, and then I go back to my
     cottage, where Neo is sitting on the porch wrapped in a blanket from my bed, with
     Lesego by his side. The blanket trick is the only way I can leave to shower or go
     to the bathroom or run an errand without her following me. I toss the fabric over
     Lesego’s head, and by the time she extricates herself, I’m gone, and she settles down
     with Neo and my scent on the blanket. Yet even then, Lesego keeps one ear out listening
     for me to return.
    One morning, when Lesego and I are outside kicking a soccer ball back and forth, she
     punts it over my head, toward the rangers’ village. Groaning, I jog to the rolling
     ball and scoop it into my arms, and then I see Grant. “Telegram,” he announces, handing
     me the envelope before he walks back to the guest camp.
    I stare at the Western Union logo, the folded yellow paper. Crumpling it up, I stuff
     it into my pocket.
    The entire encounter with Grant takes less than thirty seconds, but that is all the
     time Lesego needs to disappear.
    It is not as hard as you’d think to lose an elephant. I am panicked. How fast could
     she wander away? We don’t have an actual fence separating us from the wildlife; and
     even if she doesn’t encounter a predator, there are ravines and water holes that she
     can easily tumble into. I am paralyzed, unsure which way to run first. “Lesego,” I
     yell, as if she might come when called.
    I am about to sprint to the far end of our village, to see if she’s stormed her way
     into the office, when I hear the crash inside my hut. I push open the door, my terror
     congealing into a hot