“No thank you, sir, I’m on a strict low-carb diet,” Higgins said politely, stepping back onto the gravel path. “Carry on with the art.”

As the officer walked away, Marcus let out a breath he felt like he had been holding since five o’clock that morning.

He looked down at Barnaby, who was now contentedly munching on his banana, looking thoroughly pleased with his negotiation skills.

They continued their slow walk through the park, moving past flowering bushes and families enjoying their weekend picnics.

Everywhere they went, Barnaby remained the picture of absolute serenity, sitting tall in the chair like a king surveying a new kingdom.

He didn’t try to run, he didn’t try to climb the trees, and he didn’t beat his massive chest in a display of dominance.

He just wanted to sit in the sunshine, to feel the gentle breeze on his fur without the barrier of thick, reinforced glass.

Marcus realized then that the gorilla didn’t want to escape his life; he just wanted to be a part of the world for a little while.

They spent two glorious hours wandering the paths, a young man and a giant silverback gorilla sharing a quiet, unspoken understanding.

When the sun began to dip below the tree line, Barnaby gently tapped Marcus’s hand again, pointing back toward the zoo gates.

The mid-life crisis was over; the king had seen his kingdom, and he was finally ready to go back home to his throne.