Chimpanzee by Darin Bradley Page A

said.          ’                    -                                                                          -                              .
    â€œI pertain,” Sireen says. We slip where she’s pressed against me, sweating like condensation. “Grad school was us. Beginning.”
    One semester, Sireen’s program got to her. It was too much, and she exhausted herself. We had to put her in the hospital, and she took incompletes for all of her classes. I took care of her, afterward, in her tiny apartment. I gave her everything she needed, and she fell in love for good.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  She laid on the sheets. The summer’s blue night louvered through uneven blinds. Naked against the heat. The sheets were topographic around us. Too soon. She wasn’t better yet. Wasn’t finished becoming worse. I was still worried about never-ending theories.
    She lips a whisper against my skin. “What will you forget?”
    â€œIt’s all I can do, Sireen.”
    â€œI know,” she says.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  I’m sorry, she said.
    â€œI’m sorry.”

CHAPTER SIX
    I HAVE TO WAIT A LONG TIME BEFORE R OSIE TURNS ON THE light and summons me inside. Ten minutes. I don’t have anything to do, anything to read, standing there, so I listen to other workers converse quietly. We’re getting used to each other.
    When the light comes on, two young men, the ones who changed the white woman’s tire along the highway, emerge at once. I have never seen Rosie admit more than one worker at a time. They give me a good look, and I give it back, as if, eventually, we will learn to read each other’s minds. We might as well practice now.
    Rosie closes the windowless door behind his desk when I walk in. He moves piles of newspapers and circulars from his desk to the floor.
    â€œYou saw the rockslide on the news?” Rosie says.
    West of town, in the mountains. It crippled the entire highway, and the expected repair costs are beyond both the state and the federal budgets. The newscasters reported talks with foreign investors to finance the work. Renewal from three states will absorb fifty percent of the workload.
    â€œYes,” I say.
    Rosie grins. “You get to break rocks,” he says. “Just like old times.”
    He enters some information into his computer, points at the thumbprint scanner. I put my thumb in place, checking in. There are six other workers waiting in line outside.
    â€œBut it isn’t all bad,” he says. “Two of your hours are just sitting in the bus. There and back.”
    â€œYes, sir,” I say.
    â€œThat big Methodist church downtown donated protein bars. Charity. You’ll get one at lunch.” He pulls one out of a drawer and unwraps it.
    â€œYes, sir.” I look at the floor as I turn around. We’re having herbed rice and beans for dinner tonight. Sireen promised.
    â€œCade,” Rosie says.
    I stand in front of the door and stare at my co-workers outside through the window. They watch, in line.
    â€œYou know, I never went to college,” he says.
    He puts down the protein bar when I turn around. I can only see his eyes above the rim of his monitor.
    â€œYou know,” I say, “I’m teaching a free course downtown. Writing, communication—that sort of thing.”
    â€œIs that what you’re doing.”
    It isn’t a question.

    There is a mansion in town. You can see it