A Schizophrenic Zookeeper

“I don't need the money, I need purpose.”

“You need the money too.”

“Barely,”

“Your car is broken and you can't afford to fix it.”

“If I don't have a car I can’t look for a job.”

My mirror is talking to me and I'm going to be late to my interview if I don't stop staring at my moving mouth. I have to take public transportation to get there. I’m applying to work at a zoo, and I hate zoos but now I’m going to have to live with that.

My shoes are very uncomfortable today, and they keep coming untied. I’ve always found it so awkward having to bend down in front of everyone to tie my shoes.

When I get to the zoo I blend right in. No one is looking at me and I am not looking at anyone, just down at the ground. Wow, it’s filthy. Are they purposely avoiding me? Probably not. 

***

I don’t remember the interview, I really don’t, but I got the job. Now I have to dig my old shoes out of the basement because I can’t ruin my fancy suede interview shoes on that disgusting pavement.

Today I have to see Jan. God I hate that woman, She really is the devil’s spawn. State mandated therapists are never that good. Her teeth look fake. You can tell because they have that bluish tint. Her hair is always coiffed at a stiff and uncomfortable angle, and the makeup she wears looks like it must have been sitting in the cracks of her skin for decades.

“Hi Jan.”

“Hello Michael.”

“I applied for a job today”

“That's wonderful!” Her voice is so cheerful it makes me want to gag.

“No it’s not,” there's a small pause while she waits for me to continue.

“It’s at a zoo.”

“It must be nice to see all of the animals” I’m not a child Jan. Stop talking to me with that condescending tone please.

“No, it’s not.” There's a medium length very unearthly silence. I say nothing.

“Ok well let’s move on. Have you been taking your medication?” No Jan, I have not.

“Yes,”

“And the visions?”

“Gone.” They aren’t.

The rest of the session is filled with lots of meaningless questions.

***

Today is my first day at the zoo. It is just as terrible as I imagined it would be. I had to shovel ape shit and the smell was abominable. All of these animals pent up inside of their cages... I would have smashed my head into the ground by now if I was in their boat. The birds weren’t so bad. The parrots seem mildly intelligible. The little screaming children do not. I am never having children. The mothers look like they need a break, and the fathers look sunburnt and almost hungover. People are looking right through me. I had to check my hands a few times, and I could have sworn they were translucent. I have wondered quite a lot if I died and this version of me is just a ghost. I may be fabricating all of this. If my own body is not real then are any of these people? Is my job? Is Jan?

“Sir?”

I am snapped from my mind momentarily. I hate when people call me sir, the reason being that I don’t see myself as a man. As a matter of fact, I hardly see myself at all. Recalling what I look like is a difficult task. I believe I have short brown hair and a big nose. I wear glasses. Nothing else is coming to mind.

“I said SIR.” I must have drifted off again.

“How may I help you?”

“My daughter wants to see the elephants, and she's getting impatient.” The man puffs out his chest aggressively and over enunciates all of his words.

“I’m sorry, I can’t help you.”

“Don’t you work here you fucker?!”

“I only do the cleaning right now.” For a moment I think he’s about to strike me, but he backs away. muttering under his breath.

***

I’ve been working at the zoo for about a month now. I keep seeing figments floating by. The last one was of a woman who looked like my mother, but her skin tone was so much duller. One thing I will never forget is how alive mom always seems. Wrapped up in me and in herself. I don’t know if she’s happy, but her cheeks are always a pink/orange tone and so she looks warm at least. I believe these animals are getting to me. This is not the type of purpose I was looking for. When I walk by the cages and crates and habitats, I can hear their voices screaming at me to let them out, clawing at my ankles and begging me to set them free. I can’t set them free. As much as I hate to admit it, I need this job for the money, and in a weird sort of way, having the routine is nice.

The only animals I enjoy are the birds. We have a special exhibit for a white bird with a black beak. She looks like a star, or a glass of milk, or maybe a sugar cookie. I love the waxy nature of her wings and the little steps she takes back and forth on the perch. She is not meant to be here.

I have made only one friend at work and she smokes too much. I think she hates zoos as well.

***

The me that lives in the mirror is talking again. Asking how I can stand it here, and it’s time to see Jan.

“Hi Jan.”

“Hello Michael.” Her hair is infuriating. How does it stand up like that. She must use a can of hairspray everyday.

“I still have my job.”

“That’s wonderful!” I just noticed that she has a small southern accent underneath her sticky smile.

“JESUS CHRIST JAN NO IT'S NOT!” Why am I yelling. I never yell.

“I HATE MY JOB. MY ONLY FRIEND SMOKES TOO MUCH. THE TOURISTS ARE INTOLERABLE AND I COME HOME SMELLING LIKE ANIMAL FECES AND SUNSCREEN.” She shrinks back into her chair. I stand up abruptly.

“Michael?” She sounds frightened and apprehensive and there's that twang again. How had I not noticed it before.

“I don't belong here Jan. It’s time for me to leave.” I never loved Jan but I feel like I'm walking out on my wife. My empty wife of many many years. I moved through the doorframe and went home and didn’t even register it. I need to quit this job. I’ll find another. I don’t want to leave the birds.

I need to quit this job.

***

The next evening, I had already made up my mind. It was the end of the line for me. I got in my car (which I was able to fix with the money from my job) and drove to the zoo. I didn't have a key, so I hopped over the fence and moseyed to the bird sector. I started running my hands along the bars of the aviary, and found myself undoing the latch on the door. A chill came over my body as I stepped into their small home and spread my arms. The birds all lifted their heads from their slumbers at once and cooed a synchronous, “Welcome home.” The white one with the black beak flew to my feet and put one claw on the tip of my shoe. She opened her mouth and asked if I wanted a ride. I nodded a small “Yes,” and held out my hands.

All of the birds left their perches and glided to my wrists and lifted me from the musty ground. They flew me out of the bird sector, and then right over the gates of the zoo and into the sharp night. I rose higher and higher, past the clouds until I couldn’t see the ground anymore, and then until the black sky obscured my vision entirely.