WALLS OF THE DEAD by Billie Sue Mosiman Read Free Book Online Page B

flies trying to light on his face. He turned his head from her and stared at a wall of the near cave as if bored and woefully unimpressed with the gaggle of humans who watched him. She thought he wasn't going to answer, or he hadn't heard her, or he refused to speak with her this way. She waited, leaning back now, glancing around at the few others who had gathered near the fence to stare at the Silverback.
    He turned his head again and stared straight at her. Of course we are, what a stupid question! You think I'm an advanced gorilla, that only I have a brain and can think for myself? You think men are the only creatures on this planet who has a soul, a will, and a life plan? Then you are as deluded as all the others, the silent ones. Then he made a dismissive sound that echoed in her head.
    Linda spent hours at the gorilla exhibit that day. She and the Silverback had long, philosophical, stunning conversations about the nature of the world and the place animals had in it.
    At home again she fell exhausted in the easy chair in her living room, the afternoon light leaking through the drawn drapes to fall across her legs. She was too tired to even turn on a lamp, much less go to the kitchen to rumble through the cupboards to find something for dinner. She had never searched out the food carts at the zoo. She hadn't eaten since breakfast. There were so many more important considerations. Such as...
    ...her place in the world as a human being had been usurped. She had often thought, looking at a dog or cat or squirrel or cow that those creatures must dream and have yearnings. That they must feel some of the same emotions as humans. That they couldn't be as dull and empty as outer space.
    Now she had proof. She was not mad, that never entered her mind for a moment. The gorilla really had talked with her--for hours. She didn't have voices loose and floating through her mind like a schizophrenic. She was an educated woman who had read the thoughts of others since childhood. She knew a sentient being when she met one.
    After that, she practiced speaking with other animals. She found a lizard sunning itself on her porch one day and crept up on it, careful not to frighten it away. She projected her thoughts as hard as she could-- Are you there? Do you hear me? --then waited.
    Two minutes passed. Three. Just as she was about to abandon the exercise, the lizard slid out its neck until it looked to be holding a coin inside, the skin there changing to muddy red, and it said to her, What do you care? You're not the cat.
    Linda laughed. You're not the cat, it had said! So the animal kingdom also possessed wit and humor.
    She spent just a few minutes communicating with the lizard before it sped off, climbing quickly down the porch post to the ground and disappearing without a word.
    For the next year she practiced all the time. She visited the zoo often, communing with birds, animals, and reptiles. Some species were brighter and smarter than others. Some refused to engage, grunting at her in disdain. Others laughed at her while nearby zoo patrons looked on, hearing nothing but squeals and growls and huffing.
    One day a student happened by Linda's house in Palo Alto, walking a large spotted mixed breed dog on a leash. Linda was in the yard planting gladiola bulbs.
    "Hey, Ms Broderick!"
    Linda swiveled from where she was hunched over the gladiola bed and put a hand up to shield her eyes from the sun. "Hello, Justina."
    The student strolled up the sidewalk, the dog at her side. "I've been working on that essay you gave us to do. The research I'm finding on it is amazing."
    Linda put down the trowel and bag of bulbs. She rose, dusting off her gloves before removing them. Suddenly a thought slammed into her brain. I hate this bitch and I'm going to EAT her first chance I get!
    Linda's head came up, her eyes widening. She looked down at the dog. "What kind of dog is that?"
    "Oh," Justina reached down to pet the dog's head. "He's just a Heinz 57, all