Tibbet timed Junior’s responses and tallied his actions, walking away taking notes. As soon as he had enough data to write the paper, he would return to the States. Although he still lived at the center, he did not speak to any of them unless he had to.

* * *

One of the new words Junior could say was Love. He pronounced it Ufv.

He had learned this word from her. She did not know if he understood what the word meant. Unlike the word raft or ball, she could not ask him to pick love up or carry it around the pool.

She dreamed at night he talked to her in long graceful sentences and she was the one who could not understand. Who could not speak back. Who was not smart enough.

* * *

It happened on a beautiful day, sitting on the lawn, the sun warming her back, the lagoon blue and sparkling below. How can one be scared under such circumstances? Why would one be careful?

She had just finished reporting to Blum on the day’s progress.

Since she’d threatened to tell on Blum if he gave drugs to Junior, he’d been different with her. He wasn’t in his head anymore, thinking his own thoughts. Instead he had become strangely attentive as he asked her questions and watched her reactions. He asked about Junior’s health, his speed of learning, her thoughts about why. He seemed almost like he used to be, leaning in close behind his eyes, watching.

Today after asking a variety of questions, he took a sip of his coffee and jerked his chin at Junior in the deep end of the pool.—Poor guy. It must be uncomfortable for him to not get any sex for months.

The question was unexpected. Involuntarily, she coughed, amused.

He locked onto her reaction and asked—What?

Paying attention like this, he seemed able to hear, not just the words she said, but also what she did not say.

Ahh—he said—of course. He’s masturbating.

She was silent.

He smiled at her expression.—Come on. It’s a perfectly natural act.

He looked around the homearium and asked—What’s he rubbing against? The inflatable raft?

He glanced at her to read the answer.

His voice was light, amused.—O.K., that’s a yes. What else? The inflatable dolphin?

She could feel the danger, watch it walk closer. Her eyes open like a deer in the headlights, not even blinking.

His eyes considered her face. He could feel her panic and was curious.—Another yes. What about the ball?

She was so very still.

He absorbed this answer, then asked, his voice different—What about you?

A moment. Her world shifted. The before. The after.

Her expression.

He now stated it, no longer a question.—You.

His eyes were wide. Humor was gone. He was profoundly shocked.

In the silence afterward, desperate, she made the worst mistake possible. She quoted him.—It is a perfectly natural act.

She saw from his expression the depth of her misunderstanding.