The End
of Summer
by SuniD
Three friends
agree on a day at the zoo to honor the end of summer. Christina’s
family has a pass and she says Jeff‘s her cousin to sneak him in.
They both have fair skin and blue eyes, so no one suspects. Robbie’s
taller with black hair and brown eyes, which makes it obvious he’s
not related. He has two weeks’ allowance in his front right pocket
to get in and buy ice-cream for him and Christina.
Robbie goes
through the line first and grabs a map. Christina shows her cardboard
pass to the teller and gets her hand stamped. Jeff pretends to get
stuck in the turnstile and people line up behind him wearing
disappointed faces. Christina grabs his freckled arm with both hands
and pulls. Jeff flies through the gate, crashes into Christina, who
bounces off Robbie, and the three friends run away laughing toward the Big
Cat exhibit.
Christina watches
the Bengal tiger intently. A giant sandpaper tongue glides slowly
over a banded thigh. The giant tabby stretches out a front paw and
cleans between each toe, taking care with the claws. Robbie yells,
“Lazy tiger!” and tries to rile it up. He prefers the anxious
panther that needs no provoking. It wants to eat all children,
indiscriminately. Jeff likes the playful lynxes, gray and white with
long whiskers in each ear, wants to take one home. They may be small,
Jeff says, but one could take care of the neighbors’ yappy toy
poodle for sure.
The friends talk
about where to go next. They look at the feeding times printed on the
back of Robbie’s map. Jeff thinks they can make it to the monkeys
in ten minutes, but they have to cross Koi Bridge first. They want to
stop and feed the monstrous goldfish, which will take time. Robbie
wants to see the sharks shred whole sides of beef in two hours, and
they all agree. Christina says the sea lions sing for their lunch and
it starts in half an hour, so they have time to feed the fish on the
way.
Popcorn venders
are situated at both ends of the bridge. Robbie buys a big bag for
fifty cents. He gives a handful to Jeff, takes a handful, and gives
the rest to Christina, “To hang onto,” he says. They play a game
where they pick a fish and try to throw a single kernel where the
chosen koi can reach it. The pieces of air-popped corn are too light
to be accurate. One barely grazes the surface and fish bodies boil.
Koi leap and suck wildly for a nibble. Christina doles out fistfuls
of bait until the last one. She turns the bag upside-down and dumps
the remaining crumbs into the pond. The fish are still starving.
The small outdoor
pavilion at Sea Lion Island fills up fast. The three friends sit up
front, with only a chain-link fence between them and the action.
Christina sits in the middle with Robbie and Jeff close at her sides.
Four zoo employees file out of a secret door in the f aux rock
enclosure with buckets and props in their hands. The sea lions
anticipate the applause and stand at attention. They line up like a
chorus and bark out a melody. One makes a grimace when commanded to
smile. Another knows the difference between a handshake and a
high-five. They all swim laps and jump to reach a pole with a red
ball on the end of it. Christina’s hands are red from clapping,
Jeff catches his breath from fits of laughter, and Robbie asks the
nearest trainer if he can throw out a fish, but the bucket is already
empty.
After watching
everyone but the sharks eat, Robbie recommends a snack. Jeff has ten
dollars from his twelfth birthday and wants to go with him. Christina
says, “Surprise me,” and waits by Hippo’s Bog. She leans her
thin frame against the fence, face in hands, blonde bob tipped to one
side, and stares across the empty moat into the cloudy lake. A female
river horse lounges on her side in the shallow water. One nostril
opens and closes as water washes over the bump of her glossy belly.
She snorts and sneezes once when water sneaks in, but is otherwise at
ease. Christina watches two more mounds of oily flesh move toward
each other further into the pool.
Jeff walks
swiftly toward Christina wearing a goofy grin, and a corn-dog in each
hand. Robbie steps carefully, his dark eyes focused, taking large
strides, gripping a strawberry sugar cone in his left hand,
cookies-and-cream in his right. The boys reach Christina at the same
time. Both say they have just what she wants. An evil laugh explodes
from the hippopotamus’ lair and cuts the conversation short.
The friends
watch, stunned, as two bulls extend their jaws. They and an adjoining
crowd gasp as the animals bare hooked yellow tusks. With mouths
locked open at a hundred and fifty degrees, they exchange wicked
chortles and hisses. The males size each other up out of contemptuous
bulbous eyes. The larger male snaps, driving his top canines into the
pink flesh of the other exposed gums. Christina grips the fence with
both hands and screams. She yells, “Stop! Stop! Stop fighting!”
over and over again. The giant water warthogs snap back and forth.
They never leave their mouths closed for long. Blood drips down their
fangs, sprays violently with each impact. The heads finally collide
one last time and both males back away with the red gooey flesh of
their dominance on display. No one knows who won.
Christina accepts
the soggy strawberry cone first because it’s melting. Robbie wipes
the drippings on his jeans. Jeff says, “Sorry,” because the
corn-dog got cold, but Christina takes her time with it anyway.
Robbie thinks the hippo fight was better than the sharks will be.
Jeff tries to keep his mouth open all the way while they walk to the
aquarium but it chaps the corners of his mouth. Christina is relieved
that she is not a hippopotamus.
