year they came out. Take four sips of water. Stop. Four sips of water.
Stop.
Hot tears filled my lash line. Like the ones you feel coming when Bambi’s
mother dies. Or when Dad told me where burgers come from. I wanted
to help, really, I did. But my legs took me further. My sunglasses skied
down my nose on a mixture of tears and sun cream, they’re broken now.
I hurled them at a statue of an alligator with his thumbs up. Alligators
don’t have thumbs. ‘You’ve got your mother’s temper’ Dad shouted,
as Uncle Roy tended to the BBQ that summer’s day. You’ve got your
mother’s temper.
I was walking fast, ignoring my phone that rang deep in my rucksack. I
dropped the map somewhere between Meerkat Mile and Hippo Highway.
‘Excuse me, Giraffes?’
A long man in a pastel yellow shirt stood blinking. ‘Sorry, can I help you?’
‘Giraffes? Giraffes? Tall, African, ungulate mammal?’ My urgency
exhausted him.
‘Down there to the right, if you pass Aquarium Alley, you’ve gone too far.
Slow down too. Take a breath, maybe?’ He’d just drank coffee. I knew
because as he advised I calm down he got closer to my face, spoke to
my nose and I winced at the smell.
‘Thanks.’
I ran to them. Bricks of glass on a nearby juice stall reflected a happy lustre
onto my unhappy face. Lustre, a soft glow or light. Synonyms include,
gloss, radiance and shimmer. Just as I’d suspected. Incarcerated.
Incarcerate, to imprison or trap. Usually associated with criminals. Are
the animals bad? Two female Masai Giraffes strode in unison towards
the edge of their confine. I had to be fast. They were magnificent. They
were sad. I dropped my rucksack. Near a gate I saw someone go through
to feed them. The rip in my sock is from nail that I slipped onto when I
climbed up to open it.
‘Oi, get down off of there!’
97