She waited.
I watched Samson.
He was resting well before my arrival, and he would continue living his day after I left. He didn’t owe me a longer visit just because I had suffered to get here.
I closed the notebook.
» All right. «
The wheelchair was waiting at the entrance to the corridor.
This time, I used it.
Lily secured my bag to the handles and let me hold the notebook.
As I passed by the large window, I caught one last glimpse of Samson near the side window.
I didn’t call him.
I didn’t need him to look up again.
Beth was waiting near the entrance.
As soon as she saw my face, she stood up.
« What happened? »
I searched for my words.
« He sat down with me. »
His expression has changed.
« Samson? »
I agreed.
She leaned down and held me carefully, avoiding the painful spots she knew by heart.
For once, I didn’t rush to tell him that I was fine.
A gradual return
Over the following weeks, I met with the zoo’s director of animal care. We developed a phased return focused on observation reports and helping new keepers learn routines.
I started with two short mornings a week.
Some days, getting ready took longer than the time I spent actually there.
Some days, the pain kept me at home.
I was getting angry again. I still missed the ease of getting through a workday without planning every meter of the corridor.
But I had somewhere to go again.
And when a new caretaker asked me why I noted an animal’s position before describing its behavior, I heard my own voice answer with the confidence I thought I had lost.
Samson did not come to the window every time he visited.
Sometimes he stayed with his group. Sometimes he slept where I could barely see him.
Once, I spent an entire morning at the side window without him coming near.
I noted what I observed and went home.
The disappointment was less intense now.
Our first morning together had been significant without becoming a promise he would have to keep.
In the spring, I was able to cover more of the journey with my prosthesis. I still used the wheelchair when I needed it.
On a quiet Tuesday, I arrived at the side window before Lily.
I sat down, opened my notebook, and began the morning report.
Samson came out of the shelter.
He looked towards the passageway.
Then he came and sat down near the window.
I smiled.
« Hello, old man. »
His head remained turned towards the house.
I noted the time, its location and the duration of its rest.
Then, under observation, I added a sentence intended for myself alone.
I’m learning to be here again.
The glass still separated us.
My leg had still disappeared.
But there was a chair by my old window, a pen in my hand, and a job I knew how to do.
When Lily arrived, she glanced at Samson, then at my open notebook.
» Ready ? «
I looked up.
« Yes, » I said.
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