For our second date, Bobby takes me to the zoo.
It’s a Saturday afternoon. The atmosphere is high on chaos, low on romance. The place is swarming with sticky children and their frazzled guardians. A geezer behind us delights in scaring his grandkids shitless with tales of carnage and dismemberment.
“How cute!” My voice sounds tinny, like a cheap bracelet hellbent on turning your wrist blue. “They’re all so excited.”
“I don’t think it’s cute at all,” Bobby says cryptically.
I wait for him to elaborate considering this was his idea, but he looks straight ahead, clutching his credit card and awaiting his turn to pay. Somewhere in line, a baby wails.
As soon as we get our tickets Bobby makes a beeline for the monkey cage. “How are y'all doing?” he asks them. Just like they're people.
The monkeys look back at him through the bars, through perfectly round yellow eyes, scratching their fuzzy heads.
“Well I hope you’re all having a good day,” he continues. “Or as good as possible, considering.”
I clear my throat. “Are you expecting them to start talking back? I wouldn't hold my breath.” Actually we both should. These monkeys stink to high heaven.
Bobby shoots me a glare that could kill a hippo. “Do you realize how smart those guys are? One step removed, that's what we are. Barely half a link in the evolutionary chain.”
“Wow. Really makes you think." In reality I'm thinking about what I'm going to order at the Wild Safari Cafe and whether he'll pay.
After equally alienating visits to the lemurs and the tropical birds and the medium size cats he asks me if I want a knockoff Slurpee. I ask him if he wants a knockoff Slurpee. He grimaces, says he’s thirsty and feels like water.
I think about pulling out my wallet and getting us both knockoff Slurpees since he bought the tickets. Instead I say water sounds fine.
“Let’s sit here. No, you there.” I stare at him. “Sorry,” he says quickly. “I don’t like the sun in my eyes.”
I take my assigned seat and gulp my water.
From my vantage point I have a decent view of the zoo’s sole polar bear, who barely fits in his transparent prison. The bear’s prodigious rear end is shoved up against the glass, mooning all the children eating chili fries.
“When I’m rich I’m gonna buy this zoo.” Bobby crushes his empty plastic cup in his fist. His furrowed brow resembles a fuzzy caterpillar. “This will be ground zero: the first conquest of many. You know about Big News and small town newspapers? I wanna do that with zoos.”
I don’t really know what he means by that. I don’t know anything about this guy, to be honest. On our first date he nursed a hard seltzer and stared out the window while I rambled about Amtrak and ayurveda and astrology.
“So you’re an aspiring zoo magnate, huh? That’s different.” I try and fail to make eye contact. “Would you say you prefer animals to people?”
He doesn’t appear to be listening. His dark eyes are trained on the building behind me.
“I’m more of a people person myself,” I continue. “I’ve never had a pet. Not even a goldfish.”
When he doesn’t answer I turn around to see what it is he finds so interesting. It’s a square concrete structure with a big sign painted in swirly blue cursive. “The Oasis? Sounds like a strip club.”
Bobby is unamused. “It’s where they hose down Sophie,” he says matter-of-factly.
“Sophie?”
“The only elephant for six hundred miles.”
“Ah. She must be lonely.”
“Exactly. You done?”
“Yes, I feel sufficiently hydrated.”
“Let’s go in then.”
Most of the limited square footage of The Oasis is occupied by a gray-skinned giantess with a massive trunk. She is almost entirely encrusted with mud. The air is thick with sadness.
A lone lanky zookeeper with a hose clucks in our direction. “Sorry, Sophie isn’t accepting visitors right now. She’ll be washed and groomed and back in her habitat within the hour.”
In one fluid motion, Bobby punches the schoolmarmish zookeeper's lights out and steals his keyring.
“What the fuck?” My outrage feels obligatory—performative, even. Because I’m surprised, but not that surprised. “Is he breathing?”
“He's fine.” Bobby tosses me the keyring. “Here. The black key unlocks that little box. On the wall, see?”
I hesitate for all of five seconds before I fit the key in the box. It swings open to reveal a shiny red button.
“That button opens the door. This whole wall, basically. Press it and Sophie will be free.”
“You want me to press it?”
“Go for it.”
“Wouldn't you prefer to do it yourself?”
For the first time, Bobby smiles at me. His teeth are tiny and disturbingly regular. They remind me of a gerbil's. “It doesn't matter who pushes the button,” he says. “Whatever you're gonna do, just do it fast.”
Moments later, Sophie trumpets in harmony with the sound of the door screeching into place. She might as well be singing “America the Beautiful.”
By the time the sticky children start screaming, Bobby and I are already climbing into his Jeep. He thought ahead, clearly. Parked in just the right spot for a quick getaway.
“You want me to drop you off at your dad's? Or maybe somewhere neutral, like the mall?”
“Drop me off? Why?” It's only four o'clock. “What are you doing right now?”
“I've got a few things to take care of.”
“What, like documents to forge? Weapons to 3D print?”
Bobby doesn't answer, just keeps his dark eyes trained on the road.
He's going to ghost me, I realize. I definitely won't be getting his last name.
Which is unfortunate. I'd be up for a third date.
*****
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