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Back The Human Zoo Save as PDF
Chapters (37)
  1. THE HUMAN ZOO
  2. Also by Sabina Murray
  3. Title Page
  4. Copyright
  5. Dedication
  6. Epigraph
  7. Part I
  8. I
  9. II
  10. III
  11. IV
  12. V
  13. VI
  14. VII
  15. VIII
  16. IX
  17. X
  18. XI
  19. XII
  20. XIII
  21. XIV
  22. XV
  23. XVI
  24. XVII
  25. XVIII
  26. Part II
  27. I
  28. II
  29. III
  30. IV
  31. V
  32. VI
  33. VII
  34. VIII
  35. IX
  36. Acknowledgments
  37. Back Cover

There was no beer in the house, but on the fridge, lurking behind an ancient owl-shaped cookie jar, was a bottle of Kahlúa, still sporting a green ribbon from some long-ago Christmas. It had never been opened, but I took care of that, and then—sticking with the holiday theme—poured a good portion into a green plastic tumbler. I didn’t know how I was going to handle the storm ahead, but as I dropped ice cubes into the creamy liquid, I knew at least my weapon of choice.

XII

XII

The following Friday the family headed to Batangas for the reinterment of my grandmother in Jim’s chapel. The family—cousins, their children, their grandchildren, and a stunning array of uniformed servants—was assembled outside Tita Rosa’s house, as well as a fleet of vehicles to transport us all. Tita Rosa stood at the head of the stairs shouting orders, her hair neatly pinned and lipstick applied. Shipping the family out to Cousin Jim’s holiday house felt akin to preparations for the Battle of Normandy. Jim, along with the cars, had sent the family minibus, and it pulled into the driveway followed by a battered yellow taxi. I watched the taxi warily and saw Laird step out and pay the driver. Tita Dom arrived at my side.

“Ting, where’s your bag?” she asked.

“Already loaded.”

A gaggle of children and their uniformed yayas were already piling into the minibus. Tita Rosa descended the stairs, propped on Carmi’s arm. Beng followed, carrying the floral pillowcase, her face composed in a nervous horror.

“Ting,” said Tita Rosa, “you’re in the Camry. You too, Dom.”

“Why?” I said. “I want to be in the bus with the kids.”

“No room,” she said.

Resigned, I opened the car door and noticed, with some alarm, that Laird was entering on the other side. The front passenger seat was already taken by Miggie’s yaya, Nini, sitting with a cauldron of food on her lap. The driver, one of Jim’s, adjusted his sunglasses in the rearview mirror. I moved into the middle and Tita Dom, noting Laird’s presence with concern, followed inside. At the last minute Miggie was deposited on her lap. The door swung shut with a clunk.

“Hello Laird,” said Tita Dom. I smiled politely.

“It is very kind of you to include me,” he said, sounding stiff and rehearsed.

“Of course,” said Tita Dom. “You’re family.” She looked at me, indicating that I should now say something. I wanted to respond that he wasn’t really family but held my tongue.

“Jim’s house is amazing,” I said. “We always have a good time there.” I felt Laird’s thought echoing in my head: Do you people ever not have a good time?