*Zoo Animals

Intro: I love going to the zoo but I never liked going on the school trips because they wouldn't let me see the animals I wanted for the length I wanted. My family has had a year pass for years and we would go all the time. Now that I am older I love watching little kids' reactions to the animals I've been looking at for years. I enjoy people watching.

Once again the school was taking a trip to the zoo. Somewhere I’ve been a million times before. Never by choice of course. I try to convince my parents to let me stay home. I even volunteer to clean my room.

“It will be fun,” said Father.

“It’s required,” said Mother.

So, here I am, sitting on a cramped bus sharing one tiny plastic fabric bench seat with two other students. Never mind that it was a difficult fit three of us four years ago when we were in second grade. I don’t even know the other students. They’re from the other two sixth grade classes. Something about encouraging interaction. My stomach rumbles and I glumly think of the brown paper lunch bag undoubtedly smashed in the bottom of the box. It always happens. My cookies are most definitely crumbs.

Before we even get to the zoo I’m sick of the animals. I have a headache from the monkeys behind me kicking the seat and my ears hurt from the screeching of the parakeets and laughing hyenas. They don’t need to take us to a zoo, just put up a big mirror in the class and we could do all our reports on animal behavior without needing to set one foot on a bus.

“What’s your favorite animal, Jamie?” The girl next to me asks.

I glance at her nametag; yeah we all get to wear nametags. Remember that whole improving interaction who-ha. It says Heather. I don’t know why I bother, I’ll forget as soon as I look away. I receive another sharp kick to my back.

“Giraffes.”

“Why?”

“They have no vocal chords.” I reply. I don’t think she heard because the chattering parakeets are screeching about something.

Off the bus is no better. I’m assigned to a group and though I know them all, none of us would have picked the others to spend a whole day with. I pity the parent watching over us. Mrs. Paitly. She’s nice and sweet and has eyes like a hawk. Not really though because I compared them when we pass the cage. But nothing gets past her. Somehow she keeps all of us in line as we straggle from one exhibit to another.

“Who would ever come here by choice?” Lacey Londawl asks wrinkling her nose when we enter the aviary. “It smells like . . .”

“Lacey.” Mrs. Paitly warns. “Can you tell me what we are looking for in here?”

Lacey tries to toss her hair and she screams. A white goop slowly slops down the side or her auburn hair. Freddy Childs hoots and points which starts the rest of the boys. All the girls squirm and chatter to one another. The next twenty minutes we wait outside the bathroom while Lacey tries to wash the gunk out and make her hair presentable. Mrs. Paitly is with her but keeps popping her head out the door to make sure we’re still here.

I sit on the bench looking at the nearest animal pen. Little black and white birds waddle around on sun bleached concrete. Penguins. They never change. The only exciting time is when they’re in the water which only happens once in a blue moon.

I hear a giggle. Then there’s a faint “Mo?”

The laughter continues and I turn my attention from the flightless birds.

“Mo!”

A small girl sits on a man’s shoulders. Her blond hair is done up in two elastics and it looks like antenna on a bug. She claps her hands and calls again, “Mo!”

“Yes, that’s a penguin.” The father replies. “Do you want to see the zebras now, little one?”

“Mo.”

The father chuckles and they continue to watch the penguins. I look back at the penguins. They rest on the concrete; most aren’t even standing anymore but relaxing in the tiny shade available. The little girl giggles.

On the way home I’m sitting by Heather again. She’s red and flushed. Apparently she didn’t put on enough sunscreen and I wonder if I’m a lobster like her.

“So did you enjoy the giraffes?” She asks. “I got to see the tiger. They’re my favorite.”

A smile tugs at the corner of my mouth. “I actually really enjoyed the penguins today.”

“They weren’t doing anything interesting when we were there.” Heather says, a little downcast.

“I had a great time watching.”

The boy behind me kicks the seat. The girls are still talking to each other; the discussion revolves around Lacie’s misfortune. Another groups laughs loudly at a joke I couldn’t hear. I’m glad when the bus drops us off at school. The trip took the whole day and we are quickly excused. My head is pounding.

As I walk the five blocks home I look up at the blue sky and smile.

“Mo.”