“My Old Friend”

By P.S, Gifford

It was in the summer school holidays 1978 when I made my new friend. Yes, I remember it as distinctly as if it was yesterday. I would have been 13 years old then. Okay, you now know how old I am.

One particularly sunny morning I awoke and over my bowl of cereal, I got an idea. I decided to go to the zoo. I had always liked zoos, never ending in the delights and beauty of all the creatures. Now living as I did in Birmingham, England, we were most fortunate to have an excellent zoo, Dudley, a mere eight miles from the house.

I recall it was about nine when I set off on my trusted old bicycle. On my back hung my tattered backpack, which contained my favourite sandwich, cheese and onion, and a flask of hot tea. This was going to be an adventure!

About ninety minutes later, I dutifully arrived at my destination. Now the circumstances were I did not have any money as I rarely did back then. However, I had formulated a plan; I was after all an exceedingly determined thirteen years old.

I rode to the back of the park, seeking an "alternate entrance." I soon spied it, a climbable fence at the back, on top of a hill. I chained my bike to a fence, and climbed up the embankment, in a few moments I had scaled the eight foot railing, and jumped effectively to the other side. I had made it!

However, my cheery disposition quickly vanished as I noted where I had actually entered .At the bottom of the pen were the llamas. A second problem was that between me, and the llamas and my entrance into the park laid a steep descent covered in stinging nettles.

Yet, I had persevered this far what was the odd llama and a few stings to stop me now. I began carefully climbing down the hill. It did not take me long and I slipped and fell. I suddenly regretted wearing short trousers and a tshirt. I rolled and rolled through the bushes, ripping my skin and stinging me all over. About an hour later, well perhaps a minute, I landed at the bottom with a resounding thump.

As I opened my eyes, I felt a strange sensation; a llama was affectionately licking my cheek. Alarmed I quickly stood up, raced and leaped out of the pen.

I was in!

I eagerly started exploring the zoo. I soon felt a little hungry, and searched for a comfortable shaded spot to relax and eat in. I before long found the ideal place, a little wall surrounding a shallow body of water, where a giant tortoise lived. As I perched myself, down and began my little feast, the tortoise, hurried away as quickly as he could. I watched on strangely fascinated, in fact, I was so intrigued I spent the next five hours there. The sad thing I observed is that very few people actually gave this magnificent fellow much more than a quick glance. They were far to interested in the monkeys, the perennial favourite, or the Lions and tigers. Yet here was the oldest (and wisest perhaps?) animal in the entire place. I in fact discovered he was already almost a hundred years old, and still in his prime.

After I sat there reading, on the enclosing wall for about two hours, a peculiar thing happened. He walked on over to me. I was taken aback, and I might add, flattered. It appeared this fellow was enjoying my company as well. I cautiously and nervously scratched his head. My new friend seemed a little unsure at first, as he quickly sunk back deep into the safety of the shell. Nevertheless, a few moments later, his head returned, and I went back into scratching mode. He seemed to stretch out his neck as far as he could. I had connected with the fellow!

Eventually the park closed, and I had to finally leave. As I got up to go, the tortoise tried to follow me, I remember him trying to lift himself over his enclose. He could not make it, and seemed to be a little frustrated with himself.

On my ride home, I could not forget him. The next day found me at my local library discovering all I could about these creatures with prehistoric routes.

Over the next few weeks, I went back quite often; I soon discovered a much easier approach to sneaking in the zoo. I even got friendly with some of the zookeepers. They obviously knew I was not paying, yet seemed to turn a blind eye. I always found myself back at the magic place and it became my sanctuary. My old friend seemed in my imagination to be looking for me, eagerly anticipating my arrival.

As I walked up, I would watch him plod over to me. I started to bring a few radishes or pieces of lettuce; he seemed to appreciate the gesture.

I cannot remember exactly why I stopped going, summer was over, and I was back to school. I was also turning into a mature teenager; I regret to say that I perhaps had over things on my mind than the friendship I had developed over the summer.

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As I have gotten older, whenever I go to the zoo, I always check out if they have a giant tortoise, and whenever I see one, my mind and heart goes back to the summer of 1978.

I suspect he is still there, waiting and looking. The next time I am back in England I think I shall go and see, only this time I shall pay to enter!