I didn’t follow her, though. I knew she’d follow me, so I started walking downtown toward the zoo, on the park side of the street, and she started walking downtown on the other goddam side of the street, She wouldn’t look over at me at all, but I could tell she was probably watching me out of the corner of her crazy eye to see where I was going and all. Anyway, we kept walking that way all the way to the zoo. The only thing that bothered me was when a double-decker bus came along because then I couldn’t see across the street and I couldn’t see where the hell she was. But when we got to the zoo, I yelled over to her, “Phoebe! I’m going in the zoo! C’mon, now!” She wouldn’t look at me, but I could tell she heard me, and when I started down the steps to the zoo I turned around and saw she was crossing the street and following me and all.
There weren’t too many people in the zoo because it was sort of a lousy day, but there were a few around the sea lions’ swimming pool and all. I started to go by but old Phoebe stopped and made out she was watching the sea lions getting fed — a guy was throwing fish at them — so I went back. I figured it was a good chance to catch up with her and all. I went up and sort of stood behind her and sort of put my hands on her shoulders, but she bent her knees and slid out from me — she can certainly be very snotty when she wants to. She kept standing there while the sea lions were getting fed and I stood right behind her. I didn’t put my hands on her shoulders again or anything because if I had she really would’ve beat it on me. Kids are funny. You have to watch what you’re doing.
She wouldn’t walk right next to me when we left the sea lions, but she didn’t walk too far away. She sort of walked on one side of the sidewalk and I walked on the other side. It wasn’t too gorgeous, but it was better than having her walk about a mile away from me, like before. We went up and watched the bears, on that little hill, for a while, but there wasn’t much to watch. Only one of the bears was out, the polar bear. The other one, the brown one, was in his goddam cave and wouldn’t come out. All you could see was his rear end. There was a little kid standing next to me, with a cowboy hat on practically over his ears, and he kept telling his father, “Make him come out, Daddy. Make him come out.” I looked at old Phoebe, but she wouldn’t laugh. You know kids when they’re sore at you. They won’t laugh or anything.
After we left the bears, we left the zoo and crossed over this little street in the park, and then we went through one of those little tunnels that always smell from somebody’s taking a leak. It was on the way to the carrousel. Old Phoebe still wouldn’t talk to me or anything, but she was sort of walking next to me now. I took a hold of the belt at the back of her coat, just for the hell of it, but she wouldn’t let me. She said, “Keep your hands to yourself, if you don’t mind.” She was still sore at me. But not as sore as she was before. Anyway, we kept getting closer and closer to the carrousel and you could start to hear that nutty music it always plays. It was playing “Oh, Marie!” It played that same song about fifty years ago when I was a little kid. That’s one nice thing about carrousels, they always play the same songs.
“I thought the carrousel was closed in the wintertime,” old Phoebe said. It was the first time she practically said anything. She probably forgot she was supposed to be sore at me.
“Maybe because it’s around Christmas,” I said.
She didn’t say anything when I said that. She probably remembered she was supposed to be sore at me.
“Do you want to go for a ride on it?” I said. I knew she probably did. When she was a tiny little kid, and Allie and D.B. and I used to go to the park with her, she was mad about the carrousel. You couldn’t get her off the goddam thing.
“I’m too big,” she said. I thought she wasn’t going to answer me, but she did.
“No, you’re not. Go on. I’ll wait for ya. Go on,” I said. We were right there then. There were a few kids riding on it, mostly very little kids, and a few parents were waiting around outside, sitting on the benches and all. What I did was, I went up to the window where they sell the tickets and bought old Phoebe a ticket. Then I gave it to her. She was standing right next to me. “Here,” I said. “Wait a second — take the rest of your dough, too.” I started giving her the rest of the dough she’d lent me.
“You keep it. Keep it for me,” she said. Then she said right afterward — “Please.”
That’s depressing, when somebody says “please” to you. I mean if it’s Phoebe or somebody. That depressed the hell out of me. But I put the dough back in my pocket.
“Aren’t you gonna ride, too?” she asked me. She was looking at me sort of funny. You could tell she wasn’t too sore at me any more.
“Maybe I will the next time. I’ll watch ya,” I said. “Got your ticket?”
“Yes.”
“Go ahead, then — I’ll be on this bench right over here. I’ll watch ya.” I went over and sat down on this bench, and she went and got on the carrousel. She walked all around it. I mean she walked once all the way around it. Then she sat down on this big, brown, beat-up-looking old horse. Then the carrousel started, and I watched her go around and around. There were only about five or six other kids on the ride, and the song the carrousel was playing was “Smoke Gets in Your Eyes.” It was playing it very jazzy and funny. All the kids kept trying to grab for the gold ring, and so was old Phoebe, and I was sort of afraid she’d fall off the goddam horse, but I didn’t say anything or do anything. The thing with kids is, if they want to grab the gold ring, you have to let them do it, and not say anything. If they fall off they fall off, but it’s bad if you say anything to them.
When the ride was over she got off her horse and came over to me. “You ride once, too, this time,” she said.
“No, I’ll just watch ya. I think I’ll just watch,” I said. I gave her some more of her dough. “Here. Get some more tickets.”
She took the dough off me. “I’m not mad at you any more,” she said.
“I know. Hurry up — the thing’s gonna start again.”
Then all of a sudden she gave me a kiss. Then she held her hand out, and said, “It’s raining. It’s starting to rain.”
“I know.”
Then what she did — it damn near killed me — she reached in my coat pocket and took out my red hunting hat and put it on my head.
“Don’t you want it?” I said.
“You can wear it a while.”
“Okay. Hurry up, though, now. You’re gonna miss your ride. You won’t get your own horse or anything.”
She kept hanging around, though.
“Did you mean it what you said? You really aren’t going away anywhere? Are you really going home afterwards?” she asked me.
“Yeah,” I said. I meant it, too. I wasn’t lying to her. I really did go home afterwards. “Hurry up, now,” I said. “The thing’s starting.”
She ran and bought her ticket and got back on the goddam carrousel just in time. Then she walked all the way around it till she got her own horse back. Then she got on it. She waved to me and I waved back.
Boy, it began to rain like a bastard. In buckets, I swear to God. All the parents and mothers and everybody went over and stood right under the roof of the carrousel, so they wouldn’t get soaked to the skin or anything, but I stuck around on the bench for quite a while. I got pretty soaking wet, especially my neck and my pants. My hunting hat really gave me quite a lot of protection, in a way; but I got soaked anyway. I didn’t care, though. I felt so damn happy all of sudden, the way old Phoebe kept going around and around. I was damn near bawling, I felt so damn happy, if you want to know the truth. I don’t know why. It was just that she looked so damn nice, the way she kept going around and around, in her blue coat and all. God, I wish you could’ve been there.
26
That’s all I’m going to tell about. I could probably tell you what I did after I went home, and how I got sick and all, and what school I’m supposed to go to next fall, after I get out of here, but I don’t feel like it. I really don’t. That stuff doesn’t interest me too much right now.
A lot of people, especially this one psychoanalyst guy they have here, keeps asking me if I’m going apply myself when I go back to school next September. It’s such a stupid question, in my opinion. I mean how do you
