We Are Both Mammals by G. Wulfing Page B

never
get any easier. There would never be a time when I would be pleased
about what had happened to me, or glad that I was joined to
Toro-a-Ba. There would never be a moment when it would not be
uncomfortable to ask Toro-a-Ba this question.
    So one morning, when there was no one but us
in the room, I cleared my throat and prepared myself to ask. “Ah …
Toro-a-Ba …”
    Ever polite, he looked at me expectantly.
“What is it, Daniel?”
    “ Erm … at some point …
we’re going to have to leave here, I suppose.”
    “ Yes,” Toro-a-Ba agreed.
Then he waited.
    “ So where … where will we
go? … Do you … What about your family?”
    Toro-a-Ba was silent for a moment. He has
this way of thinking before he speaks; I do not know how much of
this is due to the fact that English is not his first language, how
much is cultural – thurga-a are not voluble, and they often
pause to think before speaking – and how much is simply his
contemplative, deliberate personality.
    “ My family lives in the
Goto-a region, in a village called Runa-ii,” he said. “I, however,
have been living here in Kivi-a for two years.”
    “ So … do you want to go
back to them?” My mind was filled with dismal, anxious questions.
What about Toro-a-Ba’s nurse training? Did he intend to complete
it, somehow? Surely he would not be able to do so with me attached
to him. What on earth were we supposed to do with our lives, now,
anyway, if neither of us could work?
    “ Yes. For a while. I wish
to visit them.”
    “… And then
what?”
    I looked across at him, feeling slightly
tearful. “What do we do now? Where are we going to live?”
    “ Where would you like to
live, Daniel?” Toro-a-Ba inquired calmly.
    I flopped my head back into my pillow. I was
a dead man without him; what did it matter what I wanted?! At no
point in this entire debacle had what I wanted been a legitimate
consideration!
    Then I took a deep breath, and reminded
myself that the only reason this surgery had been performed without
my consent was because I had not been conscious to give or deny it.
Toro-a-Ba himself had longed to know my wishes, but the information
had simply been unobtainable. It was not fair of me to accuse him,
at least, of mistreating me.
    “ May I offer some points
from which we might begin a discussion?” Toro-a-Ba ventured, so
politely that I almost laughed.
    “ Sure.”
    Toro-a-Ba explained that he was, naturally,
unable to continue his training as a nurse. “Nevertheless, for your
safety and mine it seems sensible for us to base ourselves near
this clinic, where the most expert assistance will be available to
us should we need it. Since you and I were already living in this
city, it should be no great hardship to do so. Besides, our
surgeons wish to continue to study our recovery, so our remaining
nearby would be convenient for them and us.”
    He explained that he had requested various
real estate publications, and had been searching through them for a
dwelling that might be suitable for us.
    ‘ For us’. For me and my
thurga. So that we could live together. I tried not to feel
overwhelmed yet again by the surreality of the
situation.
    Toro-a-Ba said that he had found a set of
buildings that might be suitable for us. Gripping a magazine in
both paws, for it was a human-sized magazine, he turned toward me
and held it out to me.
    The houses Toro-a-Ba pointed out to me were
single-storey, luxury bungalows, with large windows overlooking a
tree-laden park. The buildings were spacious, with large gardens.
Most had only two shallow steps leading up to the front door, and
the interiors seemed spacious, light and airy. They were very
attractive … and, of course, very expensive.
    “ Will the government pay
for something like this?” I asked uncertainly.
    “ I believe so.”
    I looked again at the houses in the
magazine. I would never have been able to afford this kind of house
using my own wages; – or, at least, not without saving up