zoo

I get up to coffee that Dad has made. After a bit I walk around the neighborhood. There's a hiking trail. Kids are going to school. Some mothers walk them. It's a nice neighborhood. But sterile.

When I get back, my sister phones and suggests the zoo. Somehow my niece rounds up the boys and some snacks and all the gear. We go to my sister's house with my other niece and load up two cars for the zoo. My sister has a friend along, someone she knew in high school and has recently been writing to again. She is a painter, a recovering (do they every say 'recovered?') alchoholic, has some health problems. She was there last night, too. She lives in Nebraska somewhere and my sister and brother-in-law were picking her up yesterday when we arrived. She is trying to integrate with this jumbled, multi-generational group that is my family.

We are minus Mom. On the way up I sort of missed her. She needed help sometimes and coddling. More stops and snacks. Entertainment. Dad pointed out a shop along the road from Dalhart to Ratan where he once 'let her shop.' Dad and I are a lean, mean driving machine. Low maintenance. I can do her slower pace, too. Looking at stuff, shopping. Sitting down to a meal. I'm somewhere in between.

At the zoo, we don't have Mom She would have wanted to go. She would have needed a cane, maybe a wheelchair. My sister has brought hers. Too much walking. She can't do the pace. Jack has his stroller but mostly we push it and he walks. Jenny has Jeffy in a sling. His fourteen pounds are happy there all the time we are at the zoo. Her back will hurt the next day. The stroller holds the diaper bag and snacks. We nibble Gold Fish and grapes.

There are elephants and monkeys. There are ducks. Kangaroos. We lose Sarah's friend briefly and we use my cell phone and Lisa's to allow them to wander back toward the gate while I motor around looking. I find her with a zoo docent in tow looking for us. I find them on the cell. They are near the carrousel so we buy the boy a couple of rides. One with me on the panda and one with Lisa on a zebra.

We see more animals. Real zebras and cats. The snow leopards chase each other. Jack likes it. "Cheetahs run," he offers. "They are snow leopards," I say.

A woman walks up and says something. Jack turns around and says, "They are snow leopards." She looks down at him, puzzled. He's so small and so good at language. (For example, he directs me at his house thusly. "Put that down there and come in here and play with me.")