At last we were inside the Land of Wonders. Long avenues of gravel walkways stretched this way and that, leading past Plexiglas cubicles and fences which housed the creatures of the Unknown. Whoah.
Dad led the way, still waving the tickets commandingly. Mike strolled along with his hands in his jacket pockets and his head in his earphones. This left Mary the task of herding the rest of us into a more or less cohesive unit. Probably less cohesive on the whole, although she tried her best.
"Rob!" she called over half-a-dozen heads. "Get back here! We're going to the Monkey House."
"That's where you all belong," Rob called back, chortling at his own wittiness, and slapped Bill on the back, who fell over into a potted Rhododendron. It was a harmless plant, but Bill took offense anyway and chased Rob to the other side of the xanthu cage. The xanthu chewed its cud impassively. Nothing seemed to impress the Bronx Zoo animals very much.
"Come on, boys! Let's go, girls! Onetwo threefour fivesixseven eight -- where's Sam -- ah -- nineteneleven," Dad counted rapidly, "that's everyone. Nobody eaten yet? All right. Let's go see the monkeys."
Barbara took Sarah's hand and squeezed it. "I hope they don't scare us," she whispered in Sarah's ear, or the probable spot on Sarah's well-wrapped head where her ear would be. "I hate scary monkeys. Like the flying monkeys in Wizard of Oz -- whooo!"
"Stop it," Sarah said as they climbed the steps into the big white building. "Don't make me think about it."
"Do you remember the part when they ripped apart the Scarecrow? And then they stole Dorothy and --"
"Stop it! Stop it! Evelyn, Barbara's scaring me."
Evelyn took Sarah's other hand and smiled wisely on her little sister. "There's nothing to be scared of, stupid. The monkeys can't get out -- they're behind huge windows ten feet thick, or something, and they're chained to the floor and, besides, they don't eat people. I don't think. Monkeys eat -- well, bananas and mixed fruit. Right, Joe? Don't they eat fruit?"
"And bugs," said Joe, jostling with Sam to get into the Monkey House door. "Bugs and coconuts. Only the big ones eat meat. Gorillas. King Kong ate people."
"No, he didn't!" Barbara protested hotly. She loved King Kong, which was inconsistent with her fear of monkeys, but nobody told her that. "He killed those bad dinosaurs and saved the woman. I remember the movie. They chained him in the movie theater and he got out and -- and -- I don't want to talk about it."
The inside of the Monkey house was dimly lit, a single long hallway with the glass show-windows lining either side. A few people were lingering next to one or two of the windows.
"Here we go!" Dad rumbled happily, gathering his flock around the first window. "Look at that one -- he's a big boy, look at him climb that tree! Wow! See how he uses his tail to grab onto the branch? That's a prehensile limb, everyone, prehensile. It can grab trees and other objects, just like a hand can. This one is a . . . what's the plaque say ?. . .striped spider monkey from Oceanus. They are indigenous to semi-tropical and heliotropical tropes. Many of the spider-monkeys habits are environmentally conditioned to compensate for the egregious variations in the ionosphere -- the rest of the print's too small to read -- well, that's the spider-monkey, everyone! What's this next one over here?"
Rob and Bill stayed to watch the spider-monkey as Dad led the rest of us past the miniature lemur, the spotted catamaran, the wide-toed bibiscus and the truncated yellow-eyed snootch. Dad's booming commentary rolled through the hallway.
"And this one's a snootch -- look at him -- lazy boy, isn't he? He'll break that tire swing if he gets any bigger . . . a rare species native to Southern Hypatia and the Indigo Islands, the snootch must not be confused with his more well-known cousin, the snitch, native to Fizharmonica and the suburbs of Poughkeepsie . . . why do they use such tiny letters on these placards . . . ah well, anyway, those are the monkeys, everyone! Let's get to the Big Cats before twelve."
The gang began to evacuate from the back door.
"What's the big deal about monkeys?" Bill asked Rob, tapping the spider-monkey's window in an attempt to make the animal do more than swing its prehensile tail. The monkey paid no attention to the brothers whatsoever and swung its tail in a prehensile way back and forth.
"They're just like people," said Rob, "only they can't talk."
"And they have tails," Bill pointed out.
Rob shrugged.
"And they have fur, and no clothes," Bill went on.
Rob headed for the door.
Bill followed close behind.
"And they live in the jungle. And they don't have houses. And they don't go to school or the doctors or pay taxes. Or eat chocolate cake or gummy worms or become veterinarians or write books or play for the Red Sox or -- or -- or --"
Rob planted his hands over his ears and sprinted to join the rest of the group making with all speed to the House of the Big Cats.
