55. Zoofari
Bonnie emerged from the zoo's Visitors' Center and, taking up a position just off the main walkway, scanned the steady stream of new arrivals for a head of dark, rumpled hair bobbing above the rest. She'd arrived before the appointed time, and was prepared to wait, but suddenly, she heard her name, and, looking toward the sound, spied Danny separating himself from the crowd and moving toward her as fast as his father's restraining hand would allow. "Here we are, Bonnie!"
She watched their approach with a smile. Bear, not immediately recognizable in a ball cap, t-shirt and hiking shorts, had dressed for the July heat, but he'd made sure that Danny wore a long-sleeved, high-necked shirt in the latest sun-screen fabric. "Good morning!" she said, as they drew near. "Isn't this weather glorious? Perfect for a day at the zoo!"
Bear glanced about at the horde of visitors thronging the walk and milling noisily around them. "Half of metro D. C. seems to have come to the same conclusion."
"It won't be so crowded once we're on the trails. Speaking of which…" She looked expectantly from Danny to Bear, and back again. "Have you worked out an itinerary, or is the plan just to wander around?"
Danny hopped excitedly in place. "I want to see the pandas, and the elephants, and the lions…!"
Bear smiled wryly at Bonnie over his son's head, and began to tow him gently back toward the walkway. Bonnie fell in on Danny's other side, and had gone only a few steps, when his small hand reached up and slipped into hers. "… and the tigers, and the monkeys, and the gorillas."
"It's a good thing Bonnie came ready for a long day," Bear interjected, when Danny paused for breath. "Did you get a look at her backpack? What the heck do you have in that thing?"
"Oh, the usual stuff: bottled water and snacks, of course. Sun screen, a first aid kit, maps, a print-out of today's events, pencils, sketch pads… Anything that might conceivably come in handy. It's how my brothers and I always did the zoo when we were kids. My grandparents brought us once or twice a year, and my grandmother organized every visit like we were going out on a month-long dig."
"That would be your grandmother Brennan?"
"Yes, my Grammy T. She was a famous scientist, Danny, and just the most amazing person ever! She wasn't a biologist, but she loved nature and wildlife, and knew all kinds of interesting facts about animals and their habitats.
"Take pandas," Bonnie continued, gesturing to the sign pointing the way to the Panda House. "I remember seeing Ping Bao for the first time, and hearing Grammy tell me he had to eat thirty pounds of bamboo every day for his tummy to feel full. That can take anywhere from twelve to sixteen hours, which is why, when you see pandas, they're usually either eating or asleep."
When it came their turn to pay homage to the zoo's star attraction, they found Ping Bao seated majestically at the front of his glassed-in enclosure, tearing through his morning bamboo to the oohs and aahs of his adoring public. In time, they moseyed on to the elephant overlook ("Do you see the dirt on the elephant's back, Danny? That's how elephants protect their skin from sunburn. And did you know elephants hear some sounds through their feet?") and, after that, they followed the American Trail down past wolf, beaver and bald eagle exhibits ("Eagles have two sets of eyelids, Danny, one of them see-through.") to the pinniped pool area. "Seals can even sleep underwater," Bonnie said, as one of the sleek creatures glided smoothly past the observation window. "They can hold their breath for almost two hours. They slow their hearts down, and that conserves oxygen."
"Wow," Danny said. "That's super cool! I wish I could do that!"
"You're a walking wikipedia," Bear said, as Danny led the way back to the surface level. "I can't believe you remember so much of what your grandmother told you."
"I'm surprised, myself, honestly. It's this place, I guess. Even with all the recent renovations, it's enough the same that it takes me right back. Those were happy times."
High-pitched shrieks drew them to the Tide Pool where children of all ages were busy investigating small jets of water and running into the "waves" that gushed sporadically from beneath a rough pile of rock. Danny, relieved of cap, shoes and socks, was soon ankle-deep in swirling water, and splashing with the best of them. At the next tidal surge, he dropped gleefully onto his bottom, and let the water rush over him, drenching his shorts and much of his shirt. Beside Bonnie on a poolside ledge, Bear emitted a small sigh. "I don't suppose you packed a towel in that rucksack of yours?"
"His clothes will dry in no time," Bonnie said, lightly. She fanned some of the cooled air toward her face. "That's got to feel so good in this heat. If I was only twenty years younger… Oh!" Bear had retrieved an insulated bottle from his backpack, and was holding a cup out to her. "Thanks!"
He filled it to the brim. "You can drink it, or pour it over your head," he said, tipping out a second cup for himself. "Up to you."
Bonnie chuckled, and downed a large swallow. The water was deliciously cold. Bear topped off both their cups, and they settled back to watch Danny play. As he bent over the mini-fountains and squealed with delight at each new flood, his little face was so bright, his movements so lively, Bonnie couldn't help but remark, "He has such a sunny nature, Bear!"
"Runs in the family."
She rounded on him, and, seeing his lips twitch, burst out laughing. "Of course! How did I miss it!"
They turned back to Danny just as he clambered up onto the mound of rock. Bear made to rise, but Danny's bare feet no sooner hit the craggy surface than he was jumping down of his own accord. "He's an easygoing kid, on the whole."
"And has been from birth?"
"Actually, he was a very cranky baby, cried pretty much all the time. It was always something — colic, ear infections, rashes. And as for sleep, forget it. He'd maybe do three or four hours at a stretch."
"But he grew out of all that."
"For the most part. Getting him to eat is still a struggle, and he doesn't always sleep through the night even now, but that's about it. Which reminds me, fair warning: Danny's been up since the crack of dawn, so, the way I figure it, he's a couple of good hours — three, tops — from a possible melt-down."
"Yikes! We'd better get a move on, then."
They managed to lure him away with promises of lions and tigers down the trail, and maybe the glimpse of a giant anteater along the way. As they walked up the exit ramp, Danny wanted to know if they couldn't go to the beach soon, maybe tomorrow, Bonnie, too. "Tomorrow's Monday, buddy. Daddy has to work. But we can go every day when I'm on vacation, like we did last year. Remember that?"
"You're taking time off this summer?" Bonnie said, nonplussed. "But La Coupe d'amour…?"
"Cummings wants it done by mid-August anyway, so I'm hoping to take one, or both, of the weeks after that. Danny'll finally be done with his various camps by then, too, so that works out."
She didn't think she imagined the hint of bitterness in his voice. "Oh… right! The Jeff camps. Your mom told me about that, Danny. She was so surprised and excited about your scholarship! I was surprised, too. Very surprised," she added, for Bear's benefit. "Not because you don't deserve it — you're a very talented boy! It's just, I didn't know there was such a thing as the Vincent Foundation until your mom mentioned it."
Bear studied her over Danny's head, his regard steady. "Really? Rosa never said a word to you?"
"About doing something for Danny? No. If Val hadn't shared the news, I wouldn't be any the wiser, which, I believe, is how Rosa wanted it."
"Who's Rosa?" Danny said.
They exchanged a look, disconcerted. Bonnie left it to Bear to answer, but as he made no immediate reply, she said, "Rosa's a special friend of mine, Danny, and one of my favorite people! I hope you get to meet her sometime. I think you'd like her, and I know she'd love you."
She forestalled further questions by asking Danny what other plans he might have for the summer, and, as these included swimming lessons, Fourth of July fireworks, and learning to ride a bike without training wheels, the subject lasted them all the way to the lions' domain, where, happily, Leo and his pride were out in full force. Unlike the foolish humans standing out in the scorching sun, the lions were content to lie about in the shade, their activity limited to the lazy flick of a tail or occasional cavernous yawn. A number of boys, hoping to incite a response from Leo, roared out challenges, but he merely fixed them with unblinking yellow eyes, superb in his disdain. After a while of watching this tableau vivant, Bonnie said, "The lions have the right idea, if you ask me. What do you say we find a spot under those trees on the hill, and take a short rest?"
"We could have lunch," Bear suggested. "It's about that time. We brought fruit and sandwiches, but if you'd rather eat at one of the restaurants…?"
"I'd much rather picnic, and, anyway, did you see the waiting lines to get in? Even the food carts are mobbed."
A great many families were already camped out on the hill, but they managed to claim a patch of grass for their own. Bear brought a brown paper bag out of his backpack, and Bonnie, rummaging through her own, pulled out binoculars, a deck of playing cards, a travel pack of towelettes, and a much-dented cookie tin before finally producing a bright red bandana to serve in lieu of a picnic cloth. "Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, grapes in this container and orange sections in this one," Bear announced, setting out the feast.
"And the Booth-Brennan Zoo Brigade super-snack," Bonnie said, collecting the tin and adding it to the spread.
Danny looked from the tin to Bonnie with interest. "What is it?"
"Sorry," she said, with a shake of her head. "No revealing the contents until everybody has eaten at least half a sandwich." She reached for one of the square packets, and, removing the wrapper, handed Danny one triangle and kept the other for herself. "Family tradition, I'm afraid. You, too, Bear."
"That's called 'bribery' where I come from," he said mildly, helping himself.
"Only when parents do it."
Danny made such quick work of his sandwich, Bonnie recommended he have a few grapes while he waited for her to finish. "Okay, now," she said at last, prying the tight lid off with some difficulty, "I know they look like unappetizing brown lumps, but don't let appearances fool you. These are Grammy T's signature vegan power cookies, especially formulated to boost energy and endurance. And we're going to need both, because — I don't know if you noticed this, Danny — we've been walking downhill all day and now we're going to have to climb back up. It's pretty steep in places, too. Plus, they're really delicious," she added, as Danny, his misgivings obvious, sat on his hands. She offered the tin ruefully to Bear. "I guess I should have led with that."
Danny watched intently as Bear bit into a cookie, chewed thoughtfully, and then gave an appreciative nod. "These really are good. Not too sweet, not heavy." He broke off a small piece for Danny. "Here. Have a taste."
It looked, at first, as though Danny would balk, but, encouraged by his father's example, he put the morsel gingerly in his mouth, and… smiled. "I like it," he said, surprised.
Bonnie split a cookie in two, and held half out to him. "If you finish that, you can have more."
Bear was already reaching for a second. "Did you make these yourself?"
"I did. And, before you ask, no, you can't have the recipe. It's a closely-guarded family secret. You can, on the other hand, take the rest of this batch home with you, since I can always make more. Only, not in the tin. It's…"
"The family's traditional power cookie tin," Bear said, gently mocking.
Bonnie grinned at him. "How'd you guess?"
They'd eaten their fill, and were returning the remains of their picnic to their respective packs when Bonnie removed an object wrapped in colored paper from her rucksack. "What have we here?" she said, feigning surprise. "Why, it looks like a present! Who could it be for?" She made a show of peering at the gift tag. "It says Danny!"
"For me?" Eyes round, he took the gift from her and stared at it in wonder.
"You shouldn't have," Bear said, sounding like he meant it.
"It's not everyday a boy graduates from kindergarten! Top of his class, too. Go ahead, Danny. Open it."
With help from Bear, the paper was torn away in no time. "It's a book, Daddy. Look!" He ran his finger under the title. "Sammy the Seal."
"It's the story of a seal who visits the city for the day, just like people from the city visit his zoo. It's pretty funny."
"Can we read it now?"
"Sure," Bonnie said. "If that's okay with you, Bear?"
"Danny has something to say to you, first. Right, buddy?"
"Thank you, Bonnie," he said, compliantly. "Can we read now, please?"
Sammy's adventures in the world beyond his zoo home were so entertaining and so charmingly illustrated, Danny could not be satisfied reading through them only once. The first time, impatient to hear the story, he let Bonnie read aloud to him, and the next go-round, with his father's assistance, he did the honors himself. He sighed happily when they turned the last page a second time. "I like that story."
"As much as Danny and the Dinosaur?" Bonnie asked.
He thought about it. "Almost."
The heat had abated noticeably when, at last, they left the shelter of the trees. Whether it was the power cookies working their magic, or the refreshing effects of their long rest in the shade, over the next two hours Danny showed none of the signs of irritability and truculence that presaged a full-blown temper tantrum. They'd visited the tiger exhibit and toured both the Great Ape and Reptile Houses before Danny began to whine and hang on their hands, but, fortunately, a pair of orangutans took to their aerial walkway about then and distracted him from his tired legs and achy feet. Another short break for ice cream, a last steep climb, and they were standing once again in front of the Visitors' Center.
Bear and Danny were headed into the gift shop. "Can Bonnie have a souvenir, too, Daddy?"
"Oh! No, thanks, sweetie!" she said, crouching down to his level. "I really have to go, but I had so much fun today. Thanks for inviting me. I'll talk to you soon, okay?"
She rose to her feet, and offered Bear a parting smile. "Well." His expression was hard to read, some awkward mix of disquiet, warmth, and humor. "Good-bye, Bear."
"Bonnie," he said, as she was about to turn away. "I'm glad you could make it today. I learned a lot."
She winced in playful apology. "Sorry about being such a know-it-all. That gets old quick, I know."
"I wasn't talking about the animal trivia, though that was interesting, too. Have a safe trip home. See you tomorrow."