Sounds innocent enough, doesn’t it? The name Jack rolled off the tongue in a pleasant way, sober, and sane. So why wouldn’t I want to meet Jack? All of those thoughts rolled around in my rather delicate brain last week as I stood on one of the pathways in the Hattiesburg Zoo.

    You see I had just aimed my iPhone camera toward a provocative and enthralling Peacock, perhaps he was the only one enthralled, however he strutted to-and-fro displaying blue and green plumage, which was to-die-for, I’m sure, had I been an admiring Peachick.

    Wait a minute, I admit that I was making a photo of the flashy fellow, with the frothy feather display, but really I was just staying busy trying to ignore the giant turtle, or tortoise (I believe the sign said – it’s all a blur). Sigh – oh, yes, the sign said the big ugly thing, with his tortoise mouth wide open as he looked menacing toward me, was over 100 years old. Good grief — one-hundred-years-of-ugly.

    Anyways — I had just crept past the small and rather lovely water display, with the beautiful lily pads. I stood there a minute or so and enjoyed the serene stillness of the small water pond, when I definitely sensed a presence. I was not alone!

    That was when I saw the two beady eyes move in my direction. The head didn’t move – the water didn’t ripple, but gator eyes stared at me. Yikes – it seemed as though I had bothered the reptile, sort of as an uninvited guest. Believe me, I did not tarry.

    That’s when it happened – “Wanna meet Jack?”

    It was a friendly voice, welcoming, and perhaps offering lemonade and cookies (I needed a drink!). Maybe this place was not Jurassic Park after all, but a sanctuary, with poetry readings and groups of talented people who danced and sang show tunes. Wrong!

    As I turned to “meet Jack,” time stood still. It was as if horrible scenes slowly flashed in-my-face, really in my face, too, too close. There wasn’t time to run, not that I move that fast, but I was hedged between the lily pad pool fence, which featured unfriendly eyeballs, and Jack, whom I was about to meet. There was no hope for escape.

    What I thought might be a tray of lemonade and cookies hissed at me. He was a huge snake entwined around a cute, young girl, zoo attendant’s neck and arms.  I mean – what was she thinking? The gosh-awful thing was a brightish yellow/gold, I think. Oh, I don’t know. I was too busy trying to breathe (breathe-in, breathe-out).

    Once again the friendly voice asked. “Wanna meet Jack?”

    That’s when I made my get-away.  I’m not sure what I said, maybe it was even more provocative than the Peacock, because folks sure looked my way, which included my husband and ten-year-old grandson, Jordan, whom, by the way, were totally into this freak show visit, err, I mean, Zoo visit.

    Wowzer! I learned that I can still move pretty fast after all. Although, I obviously caused a spectacle, I arrived to the exit gate in record time, and to our car even faster.  I am sorry for those I pushed away as I stormed the gate, but – well, you know …

    I’ve learned a great deal from this experience. One: Grandparents will do anything for their grands. Two: Hattiesburg has an excellent zoo if you don’t mind the creepy/crawly of the world. Three: I won’t go again (to any zoo). Four: The name “Jack” will forever bring a dread to my mind (not you, Jack Davis). Five:  I know God made all things, but He didn’t say we have to like them.

    Now Jordan wants to go to the Huntsville Space Center. I am considering it; however I’m not too fond of heights and I have absolutely never wanted to meet an alien, but maybe … just for Jordan.  Perhaps I can sit in the car and send Pepaw through the space tour with him? I’m working on it.

    “Wanna meet Jack?” If you are visiting the Hattiesburg Zoo, you will know what to expect. I wish you luck, but I don’t need to know the details.   

    Anne McKee is a writer and storyteller. Visit her website: www.annemckee.net