Chapter 3

Mingo sat for a half-hour inside the aviary watching and listening to the many different birds. Slowly he walked around the enclosure, reading all the signs and trying to find as many different specimens as he could. He least enjoyed the raptor exhibit. The thought of such freedom-loving animals being forever caged tugged at his independent heart.

Head bowed, he walked through the two screened doors and back into the glaring summer sunlight. His sensitive nose caught the distinctive odor of roasting meat. He hadn't eaten since last evening. His stomach was uncomfortably empty. Striding purposefully forward Mingo was soon before an open-air grill. Bags of chips swung in the summer breeze. In a glass case hot dogs and sausages rotated, roasting. A delicious fragrance surrounded the immediate area.

Mingo looked at the various selections, his mouth watering. He swallowed and addressed the perky little park employee behind the counter. "Excuse me, miss. I'd like two of these sausages, please."

The little red-haired miss smiled and reached to do his bidding. She handed the two bun-wrapped sausages over to him with the proclamation, "That will be two-fifty, sir."

"Two-fifty what?" Mingo asked, perplexed.

"Two dollars and fifty cents. What did you think? There's no such thing as a free lunch, mister." The young woman narrowed her eyes at her unusual customer. She watched him nervously. She had made a huge blunder in giving him the sausages without first having the money. Her boss would probably dismiss her for the mistake if the man stiffed her.

"Now, mister. Don't make me call security." She tried to sound tough but her voice quivered. Mingo heard the quiver and dug quickly behind his belt. Remembering his trouble at the gate hours before, he hopefully handed the little red-head a shiny shilling.

Just at that moment the director of food services stepped behind the girl. He glanced down at the coin in her hand, then stared at the unusual man standing quietly before the counter. The teen didn't know her boss was there and proceeded to question Mingo before her.

"What's this? I can't take this! It isn't American. Come on, mister. Give me the money you owe or give me back the sausages." Her voice rose on the hot summer air. Behind her shoulder her boss cleared his throat. She jumped in surprise, blushed and ducked her head.

"It's okay, Debbie. It's all part of the act, right? You re-enactors sure go all out to be authentic. A shilling from 1756. Great! Give it back to him."

"But, but….the sausages," Debbie muttered.

"Let it go. I'll bill the fort." The manager waved Mingo away, smiling. Mingo graciously accepted his shilling, thanked the manager and went to sit on a nearby bench in the shade.

All around him flowed the crowd of zoo patrons. Some stared at him, some pointed, most merely ignored him. The children gazed at him with interest in their eyes. Several smiled and waved. He returned the gestures, warmly.

Many of the children were carrying various colored bladders filled with air. They floated lazily in the slight summer breeze. Mingo pondered their purpose, finally deciding that they had none. They were simply a colorful childish diversion.

Thirsty again, Mingo sauntered to a nearby spigot and drank his fill of the warm water. He noticed a large building nearby that seemed to be a kind of trader's store. Curiously he wandered in, the blast of cool air welcome on his sweaty body.

Arranged all around the walls were large cups, figurines, plates, wooden whistles, toys and items of clothing. Carefully Mingo lifted a little figure of a polar bear. Across its white chest was the logo, 'Swope Park Zoo'. On the bottom was stamped the price, $1.50, and the announcement 'Made in China'. He lifted a dozen items, all of which were stamped with the same message.

He spent more than an hour inside the cool building searching in vain for an item made anywhere but China, Japan, Taiwan or Singapore. Finally his search brought him to a small display of fanny packs in a variety of colors, all stamped with the zoo logo. Into Mingo's mind flashed the morning meeting with Travis and Ashley. The little bags before him were very like Ashley's bag that had so caught his attention.

Leaning his rifle against the wall, Mingo reached for a bright sky blue bag and took the metal tab in his fingers. He tugged gently and the zipper moved part way along its track. Encouraged by his success, Mingo slid the zipper back and forth for several minutes, investigating.

One of the salesmen walked to his side. "I've been watching you, mister. You've been in here for an hour. Are you some kind of 'secret shopper'?"

Mingo's puzzled eyes looked long into the blue eyes of the young man before him. He shook his head slightly. "There's nothing secret about me, son. I'm simply investigating your merchandise."

"Would you like to buy this fanny pack?" The teen gestured at the bright blue bag in Mingo's hand.

"How much is it?" Mingo asked.

Impatiently the youth tugged the bag from Mingo's hand and turned the price tag into the light. "There. See? It's $4.99."

Once again Mingo slipped his hand behind his belt. The shilling shone in his brown hand. He offered it to the young salesman, who reacted exactly as the previous two zoo employees had done. Just at that moment the food service manager entered the souvenir shop. He waved to Mingo.

"Did you give him that same shilling? It's a great gag. Look, Ryan, he's a re-enactor from Fort Osage. I'm going to bill the fort for his food. Just give him the bag and I'll add it on to the bill."

"Here," the manager said as he took the bag from Ryan's hand. "Take it. Your daughter will love it. I'm going out to the fort with my grandkids tomorrow. I'll see you there."

Mingo smiled and nodded. He left the cool building, walked to the nearest bench, and sat to further investigate his purchase. The light blue vinyl was soft, the fabric imprinted with a family of dolphins. The plastic clasp was totally unfamiliar and Mingo spent several minutes understanding how to manipulate it. Finally he clasped it around the thong of his shot pouch where it hung in all its splendor.

The afternoon sun was slanting through the trees when Mingo exited the zoo back through the rotating bars. He walked several minutes along the sidewalk back toward the spot where he'd arrived that morning. Carefully he searched the side of the little hill. But there was no trace of the crack he'd come through. Sighing, he decided to make himself as ready for the night as he could.