When I told Ivy we could go wherever she wanted, I didn't expect her fantasy to go so wild. What I meant was that she could choose any club, any movie, or even an art gallery would do. But the zoo, for heaven's sake ... Even though I googled that this idea was not uncommon for a first date, I still can't get my head around this madness.
The zoo parking is fully packed, so I turn around and cruise the nearby streets to find an empty spot. Then I spend a couple of minutes reversing into a tiny gap between two cars which must feel like an eternity for all the drivers I hold up. As they pass, everyone stares at me, and a man with his window open yells, "You don't park like a superman, mate!" His son in the back seat laughs at the joke while pressing his nose against the window to see me better. I poke my tongue at both of them as they move away.
The cool temperature of the car changes to the warm air outside, with no gust of wind. The day will be even hotter by noon, and I already feel sweat running across my back. The sky is the colour of a child's innocence, and light clouds look like cotton candy tops. Childhood memories invade me as I walk the path leading up to the zoo entry. It's a long walk, and it doesn't feel like a Walk of Fame - rather like a Walk of Shame, even though all the kids sharing my path run up to demand their tiny but precious bits of attention from me.
I have always hated zoos, especially camels. Camels are the worst. They are the most arrogant animals in the world. Take monkeys. They are alright. They can scratch their nuts in front of you or show you their red bottoms, but all that just makes them look like funny naughty kids. At least they don't hurt you; physically or emotionally. Or tigers. Those can bite a piece of you if you come too close and they are underfed, but they have respect towards you. They treat you like an equal predator. So, what's the go with camels? What have we done to them?
I puff, and I'm so itchy that I would scratch the skin off my back if I could reach for it. I don't know what irritates me more: the heat or the bad memories.
It was a fine sunny day like this one, but I was much younger, which makes what happened even more cynical. This was the first time I remember Mum showing me the camels, and I watched through the fence their laid-back snouts and their large eyes squinting in the bright sun. They smelt terrible; their fur looked ill-treated and attracted flies. I had no intention of feeding them because they didn't look cute, and for a five-year-old boy, "not cute" also means "can't trust them." How right was I in my early assumptions!
The camel closest to me bent its long neck, and its head appeared right next to mine. Its huge nostrils nearly sniffed popcorn out of my bag, and its big, crooked mouth opened to demonstrate its ugly yellow teeth. I jerked so violently that part of my popcorn spilled on the ground.
Then it all happened. Suddenly, its cheeks started filling up and bulging. It made a quick chewing movement with its soft lips, and the next thing I could feel was its sticky spit all over my face. It smelt so awful I felt sick. I screamed with my lips firmly pressed, afraid that this stinky liquid would run into my mouth. I kept mooing like a crazy cow until Mum found tissues in her bag. Later, I googled that this is not actually spit - it's also the contents of their stomach that the camels vomit up to scare away the predators. This discovery didn't improve my PTSD much.
The little boy humiliated by an animal shrinks inside of me, and I can taste the salt of childhood tears in my throat. I swallow them back when I spot Ivy under the zoo banner. "Welcome to the wonderful animal world," it says. Liars. There is nothing wonderful about the animal world, not even close. But this time, I am prepared to face it.
After that, I was afraid to approach these humped monsters. Gravitation law or pure curiosity couldn't beat my rejection power when their pen was in my sight. No photos were taken around the camels, and no sweets in the world could persuade me to pose near them.
Then one day, I attended a costume birthday party at the zoo. I was wearing a Batman suit, and when my classmate's mum asked us to stand near the camels for a group photo, I looked straight into her eyes from behind my black mask and ... You know, I felt like Batman was kind of too cool to be afraid of any animals. And my friends would laugh at me if they knew. Also, I was wearing my mask, and I was partly protected.
So, I gathered all my superhero confidence and stood right in front of a camel's snout. And nothing - nothing happened! Even such disdainful animals as camels must have some respect toward superheroes.
When Ivy sees me, her face changes. Her mouth, covered with crimson lipstick, opens and then closes. Her cheeks fill up with air and bulge. And then she bursts out laughing.
"Really?" is all she can say. I smile at her. She looks so beautiful when she has fun. "Ready? Let's go!" I utter my superhero call.
Her shoulders still shiver from giggles, but she accepts my gloved hand. I lead my girlfriend to the zoo entry, solemn and proud in my saliva-proof Batman outfit.
Better laugh than spit.
