12.18 The Abyss of WonderLand
We continued our leisurely walk through the maze of the zoo, passing mandrills, monkey and river otters, and ending up at the lion house where Andrew was waiting for us with the picnic lunch that Timothy had promised. Unbelievable. The two of them had planned for everything. Sandwiches of three kinds: cheese, ham, and turkey, plus sodas, water, chips, fruit, and cookies. I praised the thought that had gone into the selection and the clever way everything had been packaged so neatly with ice packs, napkins, and even a tablecloth. When we’d eaten all we wanted, Andrew came back from the bench he’d been sitting at and packed up all our leftovers. I know he’d been eating lunch when we did, but I didn’t feel comfortable about him having to eat by himself. It seemed wrong. Timothy only laughed. “He could eat with us if he wanted, Penelope. He’s a loner, happier to be off by himself.” When Andrew returned to pick up our much lighter basket, I asked him if he wanted to join us and see the rest of the zoo. His eyes crinkled and a smile broke out, but he shook his head. “You two do your thing. I’ll meet you with the limo when you’re ready to leave.” He started to walk away, then turned. “I like you, Penelope. Thanks for the invite.” I might have said more, but his long strides had him halfway down the path before I thought up something to say. Timothy and I strolled by the rhinos, penguins, and seals, then visited the bears and wolves, saw some wild horses, then moseyed by the Komodo dragons, anteaters and the wolverine’s lair (We didn’t see the wolverine. He was hiding or else taking a siesta.) Of course, we piled into the Little Puffer Steam Train. It circled the whole park and was a lot of fun, especially since it was filled with kids going, “Look!” just like were. We paused to use the facilities and ate ice cream cones, then continued on. A new construction held a virtual reality theater. We saw something about gorillas that was amazing. When we entered the tropical rainforest and aviary, Timothy pulled out pictures with the names of the birds that he’d copied from the Online Zoo’s Bird Identification Chart, so we were able to figure out which bird was which as we spotted them. That was fun. The scarlet ibis wowed us both, but my favorite was actually the blue-singed teal. He wasn’t flashy like some of the parrots, and seemed a rather humble little bird, but I think he had a great personality.
12.17 The Abyss of WonderLand
Next Andrew drove us to the Dutch Windmill. That was something else completely wacky. In front of it was the Wilhelmina Garden, full of flowers — tulips, in fact. We’d been transported to Holland! The windmill seemed to be working well, and the flowers were so perfectly colorful I almost believed they were fake, but they weren’t. I saw a small child pick one and wave it about. His parents scolded, and a guard came storming over. Andrew drove us next to Rainbow Falls. I’d been to San Francisco lots of times and never seen any of this. The falls were artificial, but in a lovely setting of greenery. In front was a water dragon named Naga. I’m not sure why they constructed it there, but it was fun, especially when the dragon started blowing bubbles! As we walked back to the limo, I told Timothy how delighted I was to get to see all these marvels. In fact, I was so thrilled that I threw my arms around the man and gave him a gigantic hug of thanks. “You’re absolutely wonderful,” I said, kissing his cheek. Back in the vehicle, Andrew turned about and looked at us. “There is a lot more to see in San Franciso, he told us, but if you want to be at the zoo when it opens, I’ll need to head out.” I cheered for the zoo, so Andrew turned back around and we were almost immediately immersed in traffic. It wasn’t far, though, even with too many people on the road. Twenty minutes later, Andrew drove in through the parking ticket entrance, then onward to the main entry way, pausing for us to get out. He didn’t open the door for us, not with a couple of guards glaring at him. I wondered what Andrew would do with a stretched limo. Where would he park the monstrously huge vehicle? I asked Timothy, but he just shrugged and said, “Andrew knows those things.” Since Timothy had gotten our tickets online, ours was the easiest entry ever. We showed our tickets, then walked on in, passing by the lemur forest, admiring the giraffes and zebras, and then stopping to sit on a bench in front of the gorilla preserve. We’d picked up coffees at a snack cart beside it and sipped the delicious brew as a huge gorilla studied us while we studied him. It was a mutual appreciation society, obviously.
12.16 The Abyss of WonderLand
“Thank you, Andrew,” I said. “The drive was wonderful. You’re an excellent . . .” “Enough apple polishing, Penelope. He knows you were asleep the whole time and didn’t pay any attention to his driving,” Timothy said, clapping Andrew on the back with a fond pat. “Thank you, Ma’am,” Andrew said with a huge grin. Timothy and he exchanged friendly looks a second before the chauffeur gave a stiff bow, closed the door, and stepped back into the front seat of the limo. “He doesn’t get breakfast?” “Judy told me that you’re always concerned with others. That’s a nice attribute, Penelope, but isn’t coffee calling?” The Smothered Egg had scrumptious omelets with pancakes on the side. Their coffee was made with filtered water, and I could tell that their brewers used top quality coffee beans. The bathroom had been pristine. And the restaurant in general was sparkling clean. It was a great place to stop. I was also delighted to see that Andrew had come in to have breakfast. I wondered if Timothy would pick up his chauffeur’s check. Was that the way it was normally dealt with? I never got to determine that because when we were ready to go, I found out that Andrew had already paid our tab. What was up with that? Did Andrew have Timothy’s credit care or something? We loaded back into the limo. Traffic was still light, but the zoo didn’t open until ten o’clock, so we had time for Andrew to drive us through Golden Gate Park. Timothy wanted to see the buffaloes in the Bison Paddock. I’d never heard of wild animals being corralled in the middle of a big city. I scoffed at Timothy’s words, but he was right. When Andrew got us close enough to see the sign directing us Bison Paddock, we had to get out of the car because the road was closed to traffic, but it wasn’t far to walk. Seeing a whole herd of buffaloes was beyond belief. I mean we were in the land of skyscrapers, in one of the most populated cities in California. But there they were. Most of the shaggy beasts were grazing, but a few were sleeping, or chewing their cuds like their cousins, the cows. I think all of them had long, pointed horns, which made me glad that the bison weren’t free to roam about the park. A crowd of tourists were crowding in to watch the animals. Many of the people were speaking in foreign languages and snapping pictures and selfies right and left. I wasn’t sure I’d want to turn my back on horned wild creatures, but while Timothy and I were standing there by the fence, no one got backstabbed. When Timothy and I returned to the limo, we were both laughing and breathless, too. Buffalos in the middle of a city like San Francisco? It was bizarre, but absolutely cool.
12.15 The Abyss of WonderLand
Andrew nodded. He and I would talk later. This wasn’t the moment to trade thoughts. But for some reason, I wanted him to approve of Penelope and to say, “Yes, I see. She’s special.” But that wasn’t necessary. The inner knowing reaffirmed every moment that she was my one. The fates had been extremely kind. I smiled. It was then I met Andrew’s eyes in the mirror. “I can feel it,” Andrew said so low it was no more than a ripple in the air currents of the limo, but it was enough for me to know that he approved. Penelope When I woke, probably because the limo’s gentle purr had changed, and I could tell that the limo was slowing down. I opened my eyes to see that my head was in Timothy’s lap, although I definitely didn’t remember putting it there. I sat up. No drool. That was the first thing I took note of, right after the position of my head relative to his lap. “Whoops, sorry,” I more or less whimpered. He chuckled with that low chest vibration of his that sent a tickle throughout my body, the kind that counseled that I needed kisses and embraces of the extremely close kind. I did my best to ignore it. “Are we at the zoo already?” I asked, resolving to brave it through and not comment about how I’d ended up with half of my body stretched out on top of his. Timothy’s eyes twinkled. (Honest, I never knew eyes could do that. His were like tiny, golden lights of suppressed laughter. Was I really that amusing?) “No. We’re stopped for that breakfast I spoke of. Anyone interested in coffee?” I broke out in a grin so wide I could feel my lips complaining. “Oh, yes. And a restroom would be nice.” The limo turned into the parking lot. There were only a sprinkling of cars around, but I still saw no place big enough for the big limo that Timothy had hired for the day. (I assume it was hired. No one actually owned a limo, did they?) “What is your driver’s name?” Timothy tilted his head as if he’d just learned something else about me and wanted to file it away in a side pocket of his brain. “Andrew. He has been with me for many years. He’s a reliable driver, a trustworthy employee, and a good friend.” I hadn’t asked for all that information, but it struck me that Timothy probably hadn’t just rented a limo and assigned his favorite driver to it. “Does that mean that you own this wooly mammoth?” That brought a toothy smile. Timothy was really devastating when he displayed one of his all-out grins. The guy was seriously creeping under my skin. It would be very easy to get used to having him as a constant in my life. As we crawled out of the limo, Andrew stood there, holding the door open with a hand outstretched to help. The chauffeur was a fine-looking black man in a jazzy black and grey uniform that didn’t prevent me from noticing that he had the kind of muscles the weightlifters down in the basement idolized.
12.14 The Abyss of WonderLand
We were heading down Interstate 280, whizzing along at a speed I doubted was legal. Most of the sights weren’t all that interesting, but I enjoyed the spaces of green. Every so often we even saw waterways, where birds had made their homes. Timothy pointed out a pelican. Nice. It was very cozy on the ultra-plush seats. I started getting sleepy before we’d gone far. I guess I yawned once too many times because Timothy grinned then stood up. I thought he was just stretching and marveled at an automobile having sufficient room to stand in, but he seemed intent on opening the cabinet next to the refrigerator. He pulled out a blanket and unfurled it, then spread it over me. “There, now you can take a nap. I have a very comfortable lap for laying your head down,” he said as he sat back down and buckled up again. Like that was going to happen. I almost snorted at the humor of it, but then another yawn hit me. “Are you saying you’d welcome drool covered pants?” I mumbled. “A love souvenir?” Timothy said through a smile I could hear, if not see. My eyes were already closed. The blanket had further disinclined me from wakefulness. I was too snug, too comfortable, and too sleepy to engage in further discussion about that subject or any other. I think I was only a minute away from sagging against his amazingly comfortable shoulder, and then it was lights out for me. Timothy Having her so near, giving me the kind of trust that said she could fall asleep sitting next to me — it was amazing. When I saw that she was breathing deeply, I slid her down into my lap, so she wouldn’t wake up with a cramped neck. That was even more incredible. I was free to drink her in, to touch her hair, to admire the delicacy of her features. She was beautiful. That was a given. I remembered how I’d felt that evening at the Sanders’ when I thought her no more than another beauty queen. What a fool I’d been, more judgmental and negative than a thousand kings. Her breath was a gentle puff against my leg. With another woman, I might have flared with sexual hunger, but not with Penelope. Oh, I wanted her, of course, but right now, my feelings for her were sternly restricted to friend mode. I absolutely refused to allow my body to respond in the way it yearned. Not yet. Not until she was ready. Looking down at her, a wave of emotion hit me. Never had I felt so much affection for anyone as I did at that moment. “She is my everything,” I whispered to Andrew.
12.13 The Abyss of WonderLand
“Actually, I love mornings,” I informed him. “Most mornings I visit the gym in the apartment basement, trying to beat the other residents to the treadmill. Most of the guys who are down there at that time are working with weights, so I can almost always catch a free machine.” We were chatting about gym equipment when we stepped out into the early morning mist. “Oh, no,” I said. “Hair frizz weather.” Timothy laughed. “That sounds delightful.” He walked us over to a large black limo, and the chauffeur standing next to the vehicle opened the door for us. “What is this? I thought we were driving,” I sputtered, staggered from the surprise of such a thing. “We’re going by car, I think I said.” I smiled at the chauffeur, then slid inside. The seats smelled of genuine leather. I was sure that someone had just treated it. Cara used to rub her fancy purse with the same substance and told me the odor reminded her of a saddlery. Inside the limo, I smiled as I wondered if I should start searching for a horse. “Wow,” I gushed after Timothy climbed in. “I’ve never been in a limo before. I missed that at my high school graduation. Some of the kids rented one, the kind with windows on the ceiling, so they could stand up and shout at people as they drove by.” I was smiling at the memory. I’d never really been into such frivolity. That was what rich kids did, not kids like me, living with a grandmother whose budget was tight. “I’m delighted to offer you a first. Life should be filled with such new experiences. Today will be a new experience for me. I’ve never visited the San Francisco Zoo. What should we see first?” We’d already fastened our seat belts, but Timothy offered me a refrigerated drink, which I refused. Drinking a liquid would mean needing to use a restroom, and San Francisco was a long, long drive. More than an hour, if I remember correctly. Timothy spread out a map of the zoo that he’d found online. I pointed. “I usually head for the cat kingdom, but on the way we pass the Lemur Forest and the African Savanna animals. I love to stop and admire the gorillas.” “That sounds like an excellent plan,” Timothy agreed.
12.12 The Abyss of WonderLand
For some reason, he started laughing. “I never know what to expect from you, my darling. But that was surely a first. I think from the expression on your face that I’ve just been rejected. No matter. I will win you over.” Before I could respond to that, he’d shut the door, and I could hear him running down the stairs, completely ignoring a perfectly good elevator. ***** Timothy Andrew was definitely not correct about my losing interest in Penelope. Of course, when he said that, he hadn’t met her. He had only heard about her from the ravings of a love-sick man, one completely infatuated and bent on wooing a bride. I could already tell that this was going to be a slow process. Penelope was skittish. She took one step forward and one step back with regularity. Yet, I think she was softening towards me. Her lips told me so, and I could read it in her eyes. She was already teetering on the brink of trust. No pressure, a slowly progressing friendship, that was the route to success. No matter what Andrew said about telling her the truth from the start. I couldn’t do that. She was still uncertain of me. Just a hint about my wealth, and she scurried away. I found that amazingly odd. Riches usually attracted women, yet it frightened Penelope. Penelope Saturday was a beautiful day weather wise, at least in San Jose, but one never knew about San Francisco. It could be foggy and damp or windy with an ocean breeze that sent chills through every sweater, jacket, or vest. Unpredictable is how I’d classify the city. I remembered one time the three of us ladies had visited SF in late August. We’d ended up buying sweatshirts and Mexican wool ponchos and still felt chilled by the icy breeze. I hoped the weather would be mild at the zoo. I wondered if I should have warned Timothy about the changeability of my favorite city’s weather. The next morning, he buzzed me earlier than I expected. I hadn’t even finished my mug of coffee. But that didn’t matter. We had a long drive ahead. I grabbed my jacket and joined him at the doorway. He kissed my cheek, then turned to go. “Are you a morning person?” he asked as he swung his arm around my shoulders.
12.11 The Abyss of WonderLand
I suppose the gape of an open mouth was probably my least redeeming feature, but it was better than letting out a rant about how I wasn’t a rich person who could afford to splash money around when I could barely handle the rent on my living quarters. As if he understood, Timothy held up his hand. “Easy, my sweetling. We’ll just drive to San Francisco for the day and have a picnic lunch. Then, we can return when the park closes. Is that acceptable?” I nodded, feeling a bit like a party pooper at that point. Timothy had suggested such a marvelous idea for going to a place I’d been wanting to go, and I’d immediately stamped on it, probably rudely, too. But Timothy didn’t act upset. He just asked to use my tablet so he could check San Francisco’s zoo hours. “Ten to five,” he said after a minute. “Perfect. That means we could leave here around eight, but then we’d hit traffic. I’ll make a deal with you. If we leave a five, we could eat breakfast in a small coffee shop near the zoo, and by doing that, we could sail down the freeway, avoiding most of the traffic. Does that sound good?” Of course, I nodded. I even praised his clear thinking. He smiled, picked up my hand, and after one of his incredible hand kisses, bid me goodnight. As I was seeing him out, he turned to look at me. “Another time we can be truly adventurous and go down to San Diego. I’d be willing to book us two rooms if that’s what you’re worried about.” I would guess that my cheeks, which had warmed from the idea of even separate rooms, were sending out beacons about being a prude, but I needed to make it clear to Timothy that it was something different that was bothering me. I absolutely couldn’t be a big spender. Before I could get that thought out, Timothy added, “You know I plan to marry you. That means that whatever I have is yours. No more money worries, my dear. You deserve a shift in thinking. If you want something, buy it. If you need cash, ask.” That caused me a sputter and a half. Was this a marriage proposal? Did Timothy think I wanted to be a bubble-headed, kept woman?
12.10 The Abyss of WonderLand
One of my normal zoo passages entailed a quick glance at the alligators and the monkeys. Monkeys sometimes got a longer pause unless they became angry and started throwing their poop. Most people skipped the snakes and spiders, but everyone seemed to love watching the otters and seals. Everyone, nowadays, usually avoided the elephants because those gray giants were controversial. I often wished I could feed them peanuts or offer them a fruit. It made me sad that they were deserted when they were so social and acted as if they enjoyed the interactions with their trainers. But they were herd animals, and it was sad to think they’d been stolen from their friends and relatives. But back to the crowds of people. The afternoon mostly brought the parents to the playground where the kiddies had fun on the monkey bars and other climbing equipment. An ice cream cone came after that, and then it was time for the gift shop. I saw the families exiting the zoo several hours before it closed. I suppose the check off on their bucket list was fulfilled. I sometimes heard the parents making promises to their children that they’d all return soon. That was a happy thought. Zoos had a lot of expenses. I had splurged on a pass since I revisited frequently. My zoo outings required lingering. I took my lunch and studied the felines. They were my favorite. The only time they peeked at me was early in the morning. In the evening, when I stayed with them that long, the predatory animals were too busy pacing, hungry for their dinner. But moments were caught, moments when the huge male lion rubbed his head against the female. I liked to think that meant love, but it’s doubtful. We humans tended to relate all gestures to our own human behavior system. But there were also the cubs, who made playtime so highly entertaining. I often laughed when they charged each other or ran about like wind-up toys at the peak of their energy level. My least favorite of the zoo animals were the flamingoes, which seemed to be many people’s favorite. I couldn’t stand the smell of them. They reeked. But I’ll admit that from a distance, they were pretty, and standing for hours on one foot was pretty amazing. That was a stunt I’d never achieve with my gawkiness. I explained my usual habits to Timothy, and he said he was game to try it my way. “I’ll pack a lunch,” I told Timothy, but he shook his head. “This is my date. I get to choose the contents of our picnic basket.” As we continued our zoo discussion, I explained how I’d heard that the San Francisco and San Diego zoos were the best. Los Angeles has a nice zoo, too, or at least, I’d been told so. San Jose just has a little children’s zoo. “There’s not that much to see, but I like to visit anyway.” Timothy looked thoughtful a moment. “Then we’ll go to San Francisco. Or we could make it an overnighter and head down to San Diego instead.”
12.9 The Abyss of WonderLand
I made a face. I wasn’t fond of talking about myself. It was too sad — and dull as unseasoned lima beans. “I went to school. I rode my bike. I played volleyball with my friends. There. Finished. Your turn.” He laughed again. “That’s amazing. An academic, a two-wheeled contortionist, and an expert at ball over net. I knew you were exceptional.” It went on and on like that — the joking around, the exchange of stories, and the laughter. There were some serious moments like when we talked about how zoos were being picketed despite the fact that they were keeping certain species from complete eradication. I defended zoos by adding that they were a well-known place for bringing injured wildlife so vets could nurse them to health and then set the animals back into their native habitat. “People just aren’t aware of the good zoos do,” I noted, sighing wistfully. “I think you just solved one of my next dilemmas,” Timothy said with a squeeze to the hand he was holding. “And what is that?” I asked, disconnecting my hand so I could stand up and do a quick stretch. Timothy, like an old-time gent, stood up, too. “Our next date, on Saturday, we can go to the zoo together. Agreed?” I’d always been a pushover for zoos. I usually meandered among the animals by myself. It was easier than arguing that watching the animals was the important part of visiting. Even Cara and Sammy grew impatient with my need to spend quality time with the animals. Most people treated zoos like they did art galleries: a quick walk, a glance to the left, then the right. Whoops, time to go. I liked to visit the zoo and sit on a bench, watching the animals, observing how they interacted with each other, and noting what they liked to do. Because I sat for a while, the animals sometimes even paid attention to my presence. They became as fascinated with me as I was with them. Of course, my zoo observations also included the other visitors. I watched as couples pushed their strollers about, restless children whined for ice cream, the flirtatious teenagers, who completely ignored the zoo animals chatted loudly and kissed, the small boys who poked at each other, then raced around obstacles until a zoo official calmed them down. . . The zoo visitors were almost as interesting as the zoo animals in their individual habitats.