The Zoo Keeper - Part 6
A man is broadcasting zoo sounds across the park! What is he up to?
Very slowly, he turned round to face me, just as the sounds of monkeys hooting, reverberated round the park.
‘Aha, a tourist,’ he said.
I corrected him, noticing him stifling a yawn. The man was smaller than me with a head of disorderly curls and dark skin.
‘They kept me awake, these roars, all the animal sounds. I thought there must be a zoo.’ I said. ‘Why? Is it some sort of joke?’
‘I can explain,’ he said.
‘Please do,’ I said in my teacher voice.
He narrowed his eyes and shook his head as if he had just woken. ‘Better still follow me. Then you will understand. For some people it is important. For others…’ He shrugged his shoulders.
‘I can’t possibly-’
‘Why not?’
‘Well. I don’t know you for a start.’
‘You are frightened of me?’
The murmur of voices from the restaurant was dissipating, replaced by the clatter of plates as the waiters cleared up. I wondered whether I should just turn back and go home. Forget all this.
‘Of course not.’
‘Come.’ He began to walk away.
‘But where?’ I asked when I caught up with him.
He pointed to a pair of wrought iron gates.
‘Can’t you just tell me?’
He shook his head, smiling, and I thought perhaps it was time I broke out from the shyness that had plagued me all my life. Wasn’t this one of the reasons I’d come to Spain?
To follow him or not to follow him? That is the question! Come back on Sunday to find out the answer...
The Zoo Keeper
Part 6 of 10
By Amanda Sington-Williams
Part 6 of 10
By Amanda Sington-Williams
Very slowly, he turned round to face me, just as the sounds of monkeys hooting, reverberated round the park.
‘Aha, a tourist,’ he said.
I corrected him, noticing him stifling a yawn. The man was smaller than me with a head of disorderly curls and dark skin.
‘They kept me awake, these roars, all the animal sounds. I thought there must be a zoo.’ I said. ‘Why? Is it some sort of joke?’
‘I can explain,’ he said.
‘Please do,’ I said in my teacher voice.
He narrowed his eyes and shook his head as if he had just woken. ‘Better still follow me. Then you will understand. For some people it is important. For others…’ He shrugged his shoulders.
‘I can’t possibly-’
‘Why not?’
‘Well. I don’t know you for a start.’
‘You are frightened of me?’
The murmur of voices from the restaurant was dissipating, replaced by the clatter of plates as the waiters cleared up. I wondered whether I should just turn back and go home. Forget all this.
‘Of course not.’
‘Come.’ He began to walk away.
‘But where?’ I asked when I caught up with him.
He pointed to a pair of wrought iron gates.
‘Can’t you just tell me?’
He shook his head, smiling, and I thought perhaps it was time I broke out from the shyness that had plagued me all my life. Wasn’t this one of the reasons I’d come to Spain?
To follow him or not to follow him? That is the question! Come back on Sunday to find out the answer...
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