Given her success, Blum would never let Junior go now. He was the miracle animal, Blum’s golden ticket.

She waded forward through the pool to Junior. She could never abandon him. Both of them were prisoners now.

THIRTY-FIVE
Homearium, Week 15

Each Sunday when Cora met the vet in town, he’d watch her approach, his eyes a little helpless. He listened to her, was happy to be with her, brought her gifts, was impressed with what she’d managed with Junior. She’d never been with anyone who was so kind, who seemed to actually care what she thought.

There were just two things that bothered her. When other men were around, he acted insecure. He’d put his hand on her shoulder or hip and try to pull her close. This touch felt wrong. It wasn’t about affection, and she would step away.

The second problem was that in bed he moved with a shamed intensity. Each time she tried to slow things down or be playful, to participate in any real way, he’d pull back. His expression was like the reporters’ when she stood in the pool in her bikini top and used technical words. A lack of comprehension and a certain unease.

* * *

Junior had trained her to be less scared. He held the ball in his mouth as proof that he could not close his teeth on her hands, even by mistake. She would run her fingers along his gums. This touch seemed so clearly to be important to him.

Afterwards he looked her in the eye and said with labored pronunciation.—K-ohr.

* * *

Standing in the homearium, talking to some reporters from the New York Post, Blum stated Junior could pronounce twenty-three words.

Without thinking, she corrected him with the day’s updated number.—Twenty-four.

Blum turned to her, his eyes sharp. She was contradicting him in front of the reporters.

She looked back at him. With Junior beside her, she knew her power. Blum could not replace her. Perhaps also, standing in this pool, she was angry. She was unable to abandon Junior, could not leave. Her gaze did not flinch.

Blum noted her reaction.

There was a creaking moment.

Then he smiled. He’d always liked a challenge.

* * *

On Sunday afternoons, walking back to the research center, the vet tended to get more physically affectionate the closer they got to the building. Perhaps it bothered him that she lived there with three other men. This Sunday, on a wide-open beach, a quarter mile from the center, he started kissing her in a serious way.

She did not want to lie down with him here. Someone could step onto the beach at any moment to see them. Also he probably didn’t have any rubbers with him. Still she could tell he was feeling insecure and needed some physical declaration of her feelings. So she went for the best option and began to help him with her hands instead.

She concentrated, trying to make this quick. She imagined Blum or Eh appearing through the trees to see this, how they would treat her afterward.