Jimmy's Zoo, Page 2

  “Well, it’s twenty and well worth it,” Mike said with a smile and went back to his seat with a crafty smile at the two kids sitting opposite him, who merely looked at him with contempt.

  He had no more than taken his seat again when the bus stopped at the next corner and the bus driver hopped up and leaned out the doors motioning to the squad car sitting at the side of the road.

  Chicago is a big city, but its police are divided into divisions and patrol areas so the bus driver saw and knew most of the same officers on his route.

  The officer quickly walked over and the driver said, “Two guys in the back, fourth seat from the rear, on my side, harassing my passengers. Making fun of Jimmy Peters. You know Jimmy don’t you, Fred?”

  “I do and this will be a pleasure, Dick,” the officer said as he slid by the driver, stepped up into the bus, and turned down the aisle.

  As the officer reached the two kids he said, “Okay boys. Fun’s over. You walk from here or take another bus.”

  Mike could see the one brash teenager start to protest, but the look in the officer’s eyes was apparently enough to convince him of the folly of his ways. The two got up and the officer escorted them off the bus with a wave of his hand in farewell to the driver.

  The driver turned back to the rear of the bus and yelled, “Okay, Jimmy, you get on back to your seat.”

  “Yeah, Okay, Mr. Buthman and thands,” Jimmy said with a broad smile as he walked back to his favorite seat.

  The bus driver just smiled and winked at Mike who smiled back and gave the driver a slight tip of the hand in salute. Mike got up and moved over to sit next to Jimmy.

  Jimmy didn’t seem concerned that someone would sit next to him when there were plenty of empty seats and asked, “You like the bounce in the back, too?”

  Mike thought for a second and said, “Yes. Your name is Jimmy, right?”

  Jimmy’s mouth hung open and he said, “Yeah, how did you know? Do I know you or something?”

  “No, but I heard the bus driver call you Jimmy.”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “So what do you do besides go to the zoo, Jimmy?”

  “I go to work and I go to church and not much else.”

  “I see.”

  “I lots of time pray at church, but I don’t go all the time. I only goes when I remember and it ain’t raining or snowing too hard. I got to walk to church, because my church ain’t by any bus routes that I knows.”

  As Jimmy spoke, Mike thought about something he remembered his father saying ages ago. God equalizes people. To some people God gives great intellect, but no common sense. To other people God gives no intellect, but insight that other people don’t even dream of having.

  Mike decided that Jimmy had a low intellect, but he was willing to bet he had an insight that he was not even aware he had. Mike wondered what it might be.

  “Do the animals like you at the zoo?”

  “I guess so, maybe. I don’t think good much you know.”

  “That isn’t all bad. Some people think too much.”

  “How could somebody think too much?”

  “Can’t really explain that, Jimmy, but it happens. They miss a lot of good things in life by thinking too much. They think so much they forget to look around and really see what the world is like.”

  “Yeah. I guess I know what you mean. My pastor preached about that last Sunday. He said some people forget about God, because they get too worked up about problems they got and they get too interested in money and stuff. Not me though. I don’t never forget that God can do anything. God could take away my trips to the zoo if He got mad at me.”

  Mike thought about that for a little while in silence as he watched the buildings pass by.

  “Do you have any friends, Jimmy?”

  “No, I guess not. Well, the guys at work and my landlord are sort of friends. The nice lady at the diner is kind of nice to me, too,” he continued, “…but I got no one to just sit and talk to. No one wants to just sit and talk to me. I’m kind of dumb and they don’t like to sit and talk to no one who is dumb.”

  “You aren’t dumb. You know about animals, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, I guess. I know I like them and they seem to like me.”

  “You said you believe in God. Right?”

  “Yeah sure. Don’t everybody?”

  “Most people I guess, but my point is that God gives people different kinds of talents. Your talent might be caring for animals. Being smart isn’t everything.”

  Jimmy smiled a big smile now and said, “Yeah, guess I do know some stuff.”

  After a moment of hesitation Jimmy asked, “Do you know if God always answers prayers?”

  Mike was perplexed. This conversation with a man of low intelligence was over his own head. Finally he answered, “A friend of mine says He does, but maybe not the way we always expect. Why?”

  “Cause I been praying at church for the last couple of years to get out of the city and to some place where I could see some animals without having to pay all the time or ride the bus so long.”

  “You want to know if God heard your prayer?” Mike volunteered. He thought he might have the answer to this one.

  “Oh, no! Shoot, I know He heard. God hears everything. I was just wondering if maybe I should stop asking. You see, I guess God is busy and maybe too busy to worry about me. I don’t want God to get mad and take away my trips to the zoo. I don’t want God to think I’m not happy the way I am.”

  “Are you happy the way you are, Jimmy? Don’t you want to be smarter?”

  “No. I’m okay. I get kidded a lot, I guess, but I got my zoo visits. I gots a nith place to live and a place to eat. I see people all the time just sleeping on the streets. I gots a room and a bed and a table and a chair.”

  “That’s enough for you, is it?”

  “Yeah, course it is, but…well…except about the animals. Should I stop bothering God?”

  Mike really wasn’t sure in his own mind. He wanted to tell Jimmy that he was asking the wrong person, but then he looked into his eyes and at his face. Finally he responded the only way he could. “No. You keep right on praying and right on believing.”

  To Mike’s relief they then sat in silence and Mike wondered at the faith of this simple man. Something kept ringing in his ears from way back in his childhood. Something about the faith of a little child.

  Thirty minutes later the bus pulled up and stopped outside the main gate of the zoo. Mike noticed that Jimmy held back and let him off first. Mike stepped off the bus, waited for Jimmy and said, “Say, you come here all the time, don’t you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, I’ve never been here and I wondered if you could show me around so I don’t miss anything. I’d pay your way in to the zoo and buy you lunch.”

  Jimmy smiled a broad smile and was obviously pleased at being asked to guide someone and said, “I’d like that. But I gots me a Lincoln to get in with and to buys me a drink at lion feeding time.

  “I don’t really know how to tell times, but I always buys a drink at lion feeding time. Not sure what time that is, but it’s when the hands on the clock are all together at the top, I always buys my drink then.

  Mike was confused and asked, “A Lincoln?”

  “Yeah,” Jimmy said, dug into his pocket, and pulled out his five-dollar bill.

  “Oh, sure. I understand, but I’d feel a lot better about you being my guide if I bought your ticket and lunch. You save your Lincoln for another day. Okay?”

  “Well, okay, I guess.”

  ~*~

  “See there’s the baby one,” Jimmy said to Mike as they stood in front of the bear pen. “He was borned last month. They say he is doing real good, but bears borned in a cage don’t always live long. I sure hope he does. He sure is cute, ain’t he?”

  “He sure is,” Mike responded, “Say, let’s go get lunch.”

  “Ain’t time yet.”

  “Why not?”

  “The l
ions ain’t eating yet. It ain’t time to eat lunch until the lions is fed. They are over here. I always stop by their cage around this time of day when the sun’s high and wait for them to be fed. There’s a clock over there and when the lions is fed and the hands is all together at the top, then I know it’s time to eat lunch. Course, I don’t really eat lunch. I only have enough Lincolns for getting in the zoo and a soda, but I wait for the lions anyway.”

  “Okay,” Mike said now and continued, “let’s go see the lions and when they eat, we will eat.”

  A short time later the lions were fed their noon meal and Jimmy pronounced that it was now okay to eat lunch, if Mike wanted to.

  They found a table at the concession area and ordered their sandwich and a drink.

  “Where do you work, Jimmy?”

  “At the Marshon box factory. I clean up and sometimes I help the other guys when they need a break. I do pretty good there. I make lots of Lincolns every week,” he said frankly.

  “How many hours a week do you work there, Jimmy?”

  “Don’t know. Like I told ya, can’t tell time, but the boss showed me where the hands was on the clock when it would be time to leave and he gives me my money every week. It’s dark when I get there and dark when I leave. I know that for sure. The guys at my work made marks on the clock for when the hands was where it was time to leave ‘cause they aren’t there when I leave, not all of them anyways.”

  “How about during the summer? Is it dark when you get there and dark when you leave in the summer, too?”

  “Yeah, sure. My work hours never change. Except sometimes I work a little more if the boss wants me to. Then I have to take a different bus home, because the boss says I missed my regular one, but he helps me find the right one.”

  Mike quickly realized that Jimmy’s boss was taking advantage of him. There was no doubt that he was probably putting in 14 to 16 hour days the year around, if not much more. Probably being paid for only a 40-hour week, too. “What do you do when you can’t come to the zoo?”

  “Nothing. When the zoo is closed I stay home and think about stuff. About animals and look at pictures of animals. I gots me a good animal book that I found in the alley oncet. It got a little wet, but I dried it out nice and it’s a good book. I don’t know what the words say, but the pictures is pretty nice. Sometimes I try to figure out the words, but I just can’t.”

  “You ever been to school?”

  “Couple of times, I guess, when I was real little, but I couldn’t understand much and the teachers said I was too dumb to learn. So I quit going. None of my foster parents cared if I went anyway, cause the school was always calling them and saying I was bad. I don’t think I was bad, but I didn’t understand what they were saying most of the time. Is not understanding bad?” he asked plaintively.

  “No, Jimmy. That’s not bad. As long as you are trying your best.”

  “Oh, I was! I was! But I just didn’t know how to do what they wanted me to do. Those letters and stuff didn’t make no sense to me and I really tried to figure them out, but I couldn’t. I guess I was just too dumb to learn. The teachers gave up on me I guess.

  “I wasn’t in no regular school anyway. It was some special school I guess, but I just couldn’t get nothing out of it and my foster parents kept changing and I kept moving and going to different schools and stuff.”

  “You say foster parents? Where are your real parents?”

  “Mom’s dead. Been dead a long time. I’m not sure when she died. Don’t know about Dad. Never seen him or knew his name. Guess he didn’t want me, either,” he ended flatly, but not with self-pity. He was just stating a fact and the fact meant nothing to him, other than that it was a fact.

  “Why do you stay in Chicago? There is no one here for you, or is there?”

  “Don’t know nothing else and the zoo is here. I know the buses to take and I got a good job. I know where the church is and I can walk to it when I’m not working. I can get along here. I’m scared to go anywhere else,” he said again in a matter-of-fact voice.

  “You go to church a lot?”

  “When I can. I works extra days sometimes and can’t go, but when I go I always put something in the plate for God. He gives me a lot so I got to give some back, you know?”

  The phrase from his childhood rang again in Mike’s thoughts. The faith of a little child. The faith of a little child. Then his “deal making” wheels started turning in earnest once again. This man has no one here or anywhere. Not a soul who really cares if he lives or dies. He needs a job where he won’t be abused and taken advantage of. A job or a place where he can be around animals. Somewhere outside the big city. A place in the country. Why not? he asked himself.

  Chapter Two

  Mike turned the motorcycle into Doc’s driveway and gunned the engine, winding up adjacent to the chair where Doc was reclining under his favorite shade tree.

  “Hi, Doc, long time no see.”

  Mike could see Doc watching him carefully as he climbed off the motorcycle. Then Doc said, “Mike you ever think of getting a haircut and a shave? You are starting to look like Dirty Dan.”

  Mike just smiled as he approached the empty lawn chair opposite Doc and said, “Nice to see you, too. How’s the leg?”

  “Bothers me some. I ain’t getting any younger. I’m going to be seventy-two this year and the old bones don’t heal like they used to.”

  Mike responded seriously, “Maybe you ought to see a real doctor for a second opinion.” Then he laughed heartily.

  “Don’t start on me. I’m old and crotchety and I might throw you right off of this place,” Doc said with a smile.

  Mike asked, “Say, how is Doctor Blockman doing anyway?”

  “Real good. I got a letter from him last week. He always extends his deepest appreciation for what I did for him, but I didn’t really do anything. You did it. You got me out there. You made the connections with those mysterious sources of yours and uncovered the real truth. You had your lawyers fix it with the courts to get a rehearing and set the judgment aside. You fixed it up with the medical board to get Jesse reinstated. Yet he keeps thanking me. I can’t convince him I didn’t do it.”

  “You’re too modest, Doc. You told me something didn’t smell right and got me to digging. Without your insight no one would have ever dug up the truth. Besides, you’re the one who broke a leg so that Jesse could have a chance to be a real doctor again.”

  “I didn’t fall down those stairs on purpose!” Doc raved, “I’m old, but I’m not crazy!”

  Mike just laughed and then Doc joined in again, “You keep on harassing me like that and I will throw you out.”

  Mike just smiled and said, “I doubt it.”

  Doc smiled back and said, “You’re right again.”

  “Hey. I came to ask your opinion on something and to get your advice.”

  “Usually you just call me on the phone and make your outlandish requests.”

  “Not this time, Doc. I know someone who needs help, but I’m not sure just how to go about it. I don’t want to make matters worse.”

  “Okay. So tell me.”

  “Well there’s this boy. No, he’s a grown man. About twenty-four years old according to my sources, but he has a mental impairment. A big one. He can’t read or write, but he gets around. He works and lives by himself. He gets by, but just barely.

  “He lives to go visit the zoo. He loves the animals and from what I can see they seem to recognize and love him.”

  “So? There are a lot of those kind of people in the world, Mike. Physically and mentally unable to fully cope, but they get by.”

  “Yeah sure, but this guy is different. I think he could do better and I think his life could be a lot better. He has a heart and soul of gold, Doc. He goes to church regularly and all he wants is to be out of the city and around animals. He says he prays to God to let him live in the country, but he is afraid he is a bother to God. He is afraid if he makes God mad that God will take away his
visits to the zoo and they are all he has.

  “I think there is more to him than what appears on the outside. With the right chance I believe he could do a lot better. He won’t ever be normal, but he could be better.

  “That’s my problem, Doc. I think that’s the case, but I don’t know. I’m not an expert on intelligence and education. I need someone who knows to tell me to walk away, or do something.”

  “Well I can’t help you, either,” Doc said, but continued quickly, “but I know someone who might be able to. Someone not so far away, Joe Ranney?”

  Mike was stunned. “Joe Ranney! Why he’s a sheep rancher. A good one I hear, but still just a sheep rancher.”

  “Yes, he is and he also has a master’s degree in special education,” Doc said quietly with a broad smile.

  Mike was not only stunned now, he was speechless, as Doc continued, “Joe got his master’s degree a few years ago. He always had a hankering to teach he said, but after he got the degree he never could get an offer that suited his style and his brothers needed him on the ranch.”

  “Do you think he would talk to me about this and be willing to give me his opinion?”

  “I’d be willing to bet he would. Come on in and have a cup of coffee. I’ll give Joe a call.”

  Mike settled in at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee as Doc went in the living room to call Joe Ranney. A few minutes later Doc came back to the kitchen table and said, “He’ll be over in a few minutes. I happened to mention I had just made donuts, so I expect his brothers won’t let him come alone,” he ended with a laugh.

  Not more than ten minutes later Mike heard the rumble of a truck as it came up the driveway. Doc got up to open the door.

  “Hello, Mr. Maltby,” Joe said as he ambled through the door.

  “Just call me Mike, Joe. The old days are gone. I no longer pretend to be anything more than I am,” Mike said amiably and shook Joe’s hand.

  Bob and Sam Ranney followed Joe in, said hello in unison, and promptly took chairs toward the end of the table nearest a plate of donuts.

  Joe sat down across from Mike and said, “Doc says you wanted to chat with me about something.”

  “Yes. I just recently left Chicago and there is a man I met there who needs some help, but I’m not sure he can be helped. He’s not very bright, Joe. I don’t know much about intelligence quotients, but I would guess he is about as low as you can get without being totally dysfunctional. I’d like for you to tell me if he can hold down a job on a farm or ranch and take care of himself. Is it possible to test his IQ, could you do that?”