My sister wants to see the tigers so even though we
are all tired and cranky, we are walking through this bamboo forest, up a steep
incline and I watch my son skip up ahead right by the sleeping tiger in the
exhibit and I see him running to catch up to my sister who he used to call
Auntie Auntie when he was a baby and I yell through the crowd “Not so fast,
stay with Auntie” and her purple jacket turns a corner out of sight as she
moves up the hill to the next exhibit and then when I round the corner I see her
stopped with her foot up on a stump tying her shoe and I say, “Where is Lucas?”
and she says “He’s not with me” and we all stop and look around and he’s not
there, and panic roars through my veins and my jaw clenches as I freeze in fear
that my 5-year-old is missing and I head back down toward the tiger cage while
my husband and sister move forward up the hill and it’s only been minutes but
minutes is enough for horrible things to happen and what if we can’t find him
and what if he’s scared and my eyes scan every 4-foot-tall child in view for a
bright blue sweater brown hair but there isn’t one that looks like my baby and
then my husband walks into view holding the small hand we’ve been holding for
almost six years now and my son has a pout on his face so at least I know he
wasn’t scared, he’s just mad that he has to hold our hand now for the rest of
the day.
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