Babylon and Other Stories (32 page)

It is possible to think logically about all this. Like a female guppy responding to the brilliant orange spots on the male, which mimic the orange fruits that guppies like to eat, the subject's behavior arose in response to a clearly defined set of stimuli. If he were to defend himself to the chair of the department, or at the very least provide evidence of these stimuli, Hank would have no trouble providing the data. He could, for example, present the following data points:

This was not the only data. Ideally, for a complete discussion of the behavior in question, other figures would be designed and included—a graph, maybe, showing the relationship between these factors and the factors at home. An
xy
graph, where
x
would plot Purdy's annoying interruptions and
y
would plot Erica and Max, and the two would intersect in a jagged, mountainous line cresting at the peak point, which would represent the events of today.

Yes, a graph like that would certainly illuminate the subject.

Whether this troublesome behavior is a temporary aberration or a permanent feature of the animal's behavior cannot be determined at this time. Perhaps this paper will result in copious grant funding to pursue the crucial questions raised by the preliminary investigation. Or, perhaps not.

Cleaning up the journals that fell off the filing cabinet, Hank found lying next to a power outlet the stick of jerky that must have fallen from Purdy's mouth at the climactic moment. He clenched it in his hand, thinking again of Purdy's swagger, his large white teeth, his cheerfulness, and Hank's only wish was that he'd hit him harder. With these thoughts in mind, it is impossible for the author of this paper to express regret for any troublesome recent behavior by Hank Higginbottom, Ph.D.

But home is a different thing. At home Erica sits in the dark, crying or not crying, and Max is in his room—because he does not enjoy the company of other children or even, lately, his parents, and at this point you can't really blame him—either screaming or not screaming, but most likely screaming. And Hank is left to wonder what will happen when he gets there, whether Erica
will have changed her mind or solidified it, and what he will say to her. He can't go home yet, because he can't stop thinking, among other things, about what the life inside her will look like when the doctor drains it: a potential human form stripped to some forever partial version of itself, a reduction, a piece of
jerky.
He pictures Erica's face and his inability to comfort her; he pictures Purdy nodding and chewing and saying, “Certain scientific facts may be hard for people to grasp.” Men act according to biological imperatives. While your wife cries at home, you manufacture figures on a desktop computer in your office.
What kind of man are you?

In the tanks the fish watch quietly, showing themselves off, selecting their partners. One mating of
Poecilia reticulata
can result in several batches of fry, spaced over an interval of months. If the newborn fish are not provided with cover or protection from their parents, they might be eaten by them. Yet they come nonetheless—batches at a time the guppies emerge, orange-spotted and oblivious of risks, swimming reckless and confused into the world.