A whistle slices through the rest of the noise in the bus, and I shoot Collin a smile. His whistle brought everyone else under control, so I take the window of opportunity to go over the groups we’ve split the kids into and to lay some ground rules.
“I expect you to listen to your chaperones. Stick with your group. Make sure you drink plenty of water, and most importantly, have fun! Now”—I tuck my clipboard under my arm—“does anyone have any questions for me?”
“I want to see the polar bears!”
“Can we go to the penguins first?”
“Do you think the badger will be out?”
The kids are launching inquiries rapid-fire. I hold up my hands. “Talk to you group leader, and listen to them. You’ll get a chance to visit all the animals.”
“I’m going to lick everything I can…like a lion.” This from a kid sitting in the second row of seats. I think his name is Jameson.
I shake my head at him. “No licking.”
“But you said to have fun! Licking is fun. And the lions do it.”
“Leave it to them, then. Licking spreads germs. We need to stay safe, and we need to keep the animals and other zoo-goers safe. Keep your tongues in your mouths, please and thank you.”
Chalk that up as a line I never thought I’d say in my life.
Mercifully, the bus pulls into its spot in the zoo parking lot.
Davis and Ginny bolt for the bathrooms, and I say a quick prayer that they make it. I did pack several changes of clothes, just in case, but if I can spare myself and Ginny having to deal with an accident within the first five minutes of arrival, all the better. Not to mention, I’m sure Davis would be supremely embarrassed.
I stand by the door of the bus as the kids file out, ticking them off my list and making sure they each go with their designated adult.
Ginny returns with a dry and relieved Davis and shoots me a thumbs-up. She takes the reins of her group, leading them into the zoo. Excitement courses through my chest. This is happening. I’ve coordinated this trip, and the kids are getting to go to the zoo. It might seem like a silly thing to be so giddy about, but it matters to me, and I’m thankful to be here.
I turn to my group of kids. I’ve got Jameson (the licker), Courtney, Autumn, Chuck, Wesley, and Barret and Bella, a set of twins. “Alright, my friends. Let’s do this.”
The day is going off without a hitch. The kids are having a blast, and I’m thoroughly impressed with the zoo myself. The company hasn’t been bad either.
“Did you ever have any pets?” Mack leans against the railing, looking over the bison enclosure.
Our groups merged early on as we set out in the same direction. We’ve been meandering around the grounds for the better part of the day, and I’m shocked at how easy it is to talk to Mack. He doesn’t say much, but when he does speak, it’s to offer funny commentary or some insight that makes me think.
“No pets.” I keep my eye on Jameson, who I can tell is dangerously close to trying to taste one of those binocular contraptions. He sees me eyeing him, and he drops his chin to his chest in defeat. “We didn’t have one when I was little, and then after my mom died and my dad moved out, we lived with my grandma. She had a cat named Alvin, but he was terrified of my sisters and me. After that, we moved around so much the last thing I needed was to have to figure out whether or not the place I found us to live allowed pets. Too much extra work.”
Mack nods.
“What about you?”
“Holland had a beta fish for a while. I accidentally killed it.”
He grimaces, and I laugh. “Is there a story there?”
“Teddy the Betta fish died of overstimulation—we think.” He looks bashful. “I rigged up his aquarium with these cool blinking lights, but while they looked sweet to us, they stressed the fish out. Holland sobbed for an entire day after we found Teddy floating at the top of the tank.” Mack bows his head.
“Aww, Big.” I pat his shoulder theatrically and try to keep the grin off my face. It’s funny to picture these two brothers together as kids. “You guys are so different. Did you get along growing up?”
He side-eyes me. “What has he told you?”
I shrug.I’m embarrassed to admit I don’t know Holland that well outside of his golf game and career aspirations. “Not a lot.”
“When he gets around to sharing about the time he got stranded in the tree fort by the bay, know there are two sides to that story.”
I laugh, and I’m about to ask him to tell me his side, but we’re interrupted by a gasp from Jameson.
