Congratulations on Surviving the Lion Cage!

You’ll be at the Bronx Zoo with your uncle Greg and your cousin Jack, walking through looking at various exhibits. You’ll be glad to be out. You don’t get out much anymore since your mom changed. She’s been up and down for a while now but she got much worse a few weeks back when your sister finally left for college.

You’ll have just passed the spider monkeys and you’ll be well on your way to the elephants when Jack will start going apeshit. He’ll be hunched over the hippo exhibit, failing to stifle laughter, smiling and pointing.

You’re a good deal younger, so your uncle will be walking with you a few feet behind him. He’ll be puzzled by Jack’s action; his son doesn’t usually get this worked up about animals, or life in general. When the two of you get closer he’ll see what your cousin is so excited about before you do.

His first reaction will be to pull him away then drag him a few feet back to scold him. He’ll be whispering harshly to him and you’ll only catch a few words. Something about life and babies. When you get on your toes to look over the railing, sure enough, the hippos will be fucking.

You didn’t know what fucking meant or was, really, aside from a bad thing, until your sister told you. You were watching dogs fighting in the street as the sun set on your neighborhood and it seemed like one of them was winning. The other had all but given in.

You’ll turn away from the hippos, a little bit embarrassed for your cousin and for the hippos too. It’ll be funny, sure, but in a sad sort of way because of the cage. You will walk away, not really knowing where you’re going until you arrive at the lions.

You’ve always liked the lions, the way they laze about and just stare at the world. They make you think of you and your mother sitting on the stoop watching people go by. And the railing is lower since the cage is so deep in the ground, which makes it easier for you to watch them laying in the sun.

You’ll be standing there watching them lick themselves clean when your cousin comes up behind you and shoves you with all his weight over the edge and into the lion’s cage.

At first he’ll be laughing. Not a funny laugh like the one he had for the hippos – this time it’ll be a child’s cruel laugh, the one they use to show you that they’re strong in all the way you’re not. But it’ll barely last a second, and his shit-eating grin will collapse.

You won’t be able to see his face from the ground, but it will be locked in a state of terror. He’ll slowly come to grasp what he did, and it will mark the beginning of an internal struggle which will dominate his adult life.

On the ground, however, you’ll have more immediate concerns. Your right arm and hip will hurt a lot and you won’t be able to move the arm on its own at all. After a few seconds of sitting still to see if anything else hurts you’ll turn yourself around with your legs to see what’s going on.

Your whole body will feel swollen and numb. If someone asked you to describe the sensation you’d say “wrong” and nothing else. You’ll be so distracted by the sensation that you’ll hardly notice that you’ve fallen in with the lions.

They won’t move towards you aggressively. In fact, they’ll barely acknowledge your presence. They’ll be quiet, calm, and well fed. Licking their lips, they’ll regard you with cold derision, like an unwanted guest or a distant relative arriving unannounced.

You won’t feel frightened at all, just embarrassed. Embarrassed for the hippos, for your cousin and your uncle. Embarrassed for your mom, raising you all alone, for your sister who had to leave home to be herself, for yourself, going to the zoo with your uncle just to leave the neighborhood. Most of all, you’ll be embarrassed for the lions for forgetting how to be lions.

Your uncle will get security into the cage right away, and they’ll have you out and into a first aid station in minutes. Your arm will have a minor fracture and serious bruising. They’ll give you a sling and set a doctor’s appointment for you for that day, but shock and the day’s overall surrealness will keep you from feeling too much pain.

You’ll get to sit up front on the ride to the hospital, your uncle having scolded your cousin and forced him to sit in the back. You’ll cry a little, not because of the pain or the lion’s cage, but because you didn’t get to see the elephants that day.

You’ll know in your heart that it’s a stupid reason to cry, but you’ll do it anyways.

Congratulations on surviving the lion cage.