Dutta placed a map of the zoo on the wall and reviewed the group’s itinerary. First they would shotgun beers in the parking lot, then visit the reptile house. There, they would shoot rum (hip flask left pocket) and handle the sloughed snake skin on display very delicately so everyone else would think they were respectable patrons of the Lincoln Children’s Zoo. Next they would watch the giant apes and pull bourbon (right pocket). It was rumored that the lowland gorillas were in a lustful and shameless mood of late. At this point they would purchase concessions to reduce the irritation to their stomach lining because of the booze. Usual fare, cheeseburgers, hotdogs and Coca Cola. The latter would be used to mix double rum and cokes before taking in the majesty of the large African mammals, the giraffe, elephant, rhino and hippopotamus (latin for “river horse” Dutta explained smugly). A single shot of blended scotch would be sufficient before mounting the camels and riding naked across the Sinai. But at least another double rum and coke, if not a treble, would be necessary to steel oneself for gator wrestling in front of a crowd of whooping sorority members from Oxford, Mississippi. It would reek of clove cigarettes. And finally, on a quieter note, the four of them would end their day beside the tiger enclosure at the far end of the zoo. Perhaps at this juncture a magnum of champagne would be produced from the large, intangible folds of a Burberry overcoat. A tiger had once spared Dutta’s father decades ago when he was a boy in Darjeeling. It’s a story Dutta Senior told often.
Avee Chaudhuri is from Wichita, Kansas. More of his work can be found at Fluland, FLAPPERHOUSE, and Necessary Fiction.