They Cage the Animals at Night
Page 28
“Are you lost, sonny?”
Gosh, I thought, I wish big people would stop asking me if I’m lost. Don’t they think kids ever know where they’re going?
“No, sir. I’m not lost. I’m here.”
“But it’s five o’clock in the morning. What’s a little kid like you doing out at this hour?”
“Uh…asking you how to get to Boston—”
“I know that,” he said. “But ain’t it kind of late for you to be out?”
“Gosh,” I said, “I thought it was early.”
He laughed. “You win, kid. Let me make a call. I’ll get you directions.”
I ducked down below his window and ran for the stairs. I heard him yelling as I reached the street.
“Which way?” I said out loud to myself. “Pick one.” I picked one and started walking.
I walked a few blocks, staying very close to the stores and ducking in every so often. I saw a police car with its lights flashing speed down the street toward the train station.
“Now,” I said, “I’ll find out which way Boston Road is.”
I stepped into a doorway and waited. I watched the police car stop. About two minutes later it turned around and zoomed past me. I smiled to myself. I knew the man in the change booth told the policeman what directions I had asked for. I also knew the police car would go that way.
I arrived at the zoo a few hours later. I slipped beneath the fence and carefully made my way to the pine bushes. It was still cold, but at least the snow was almost all melted.
I lay down and took Doggie from the bag. We were tired.
“We’re never gonna leave here,” I said. “It’s too dangerous. If we go out again and get caught, it means we go to jail.”
I hugged Doggie to my cheek. He knew we could never leave.
I lay back and fell asleep.
I woke up to the sound of lots of voices. For a second I didn’t know where I was. I popped my head out and saw dozens of kids all dressed the same.
“That’s a bunch of schoolkids,” I told Doggie. “Now we’ll get some food.”
I jumped from the bushes and followed them. I stayed with them all afternoon. I couldn’t believe how much stuff they threw away. I made several trips back and forth to my hideout. I got popcorn, pretzels, and french-fried potatoes. I even got a cheese sandwich. Someone had thrown it away without even opening it. I had enough food for a week.
“You know, Doggie,” I said, “if we get a crowd of kids like that every week, we wouldn’t ever have to worry about food.”
He agreed.
Later that night, I was lying on some rocks near the hideout. I wasn’t worried about the guard. He carried a light and I could easily see him coming. It started to rain.
“Oh, gosh,” I said. I gathered up Doggie and all my stuff. I stashed all the food and my laundry bag deep in the bushes. I made my way over to the lion house. There was a back staircase with a deep doorway where I could stand. I stood there all night. In the morning the rain still continued to drizzle. I carefully made my way back to my hideout to eat. Deep under the bushes, I found it wasn’t all that wet. I ate and went to sleep. The rain finally stopped toward evening. The sun was just setting, and I was cold.
“I sure am glad we got this food, Doggie.”
He was too.
“I wish I had a comic book or some baseball cards to read.”
I lay back against the trunk of the bush.
“I think more than anything, Doggie, I wish you could really talk.”
He laughed. I hugged him and kissed his nose. I heard some voices.
“Uh-oh,” I whispered. I clasped my hand over Doggie’s mouth.
I sat up a little. I wanted to see out through some of the spaces in the pine needles. The voices got louder. There’s a whole bunch of people coming, I said to myself. There shouldn’t be—the zoo is closed. Just then someone yelled.
“Jennings!”
Chills ran all over me and my heart stopped. I clutched Doggie tightly in my arms and listened.
“Yoo-hoo, where are you?” the voice sang out. “Jennings!”
Suddenly I saw them. I ripped open the bushes and spring onto the path.
“Sal!” I screamed. “Sal.”
He crouched down and opened his arms. Officer Daily and a patrol guard were standing alongside him. I ran up and into Sal’s open arms. He lifted me high in the air, then swung me around. He brought me down to his chest and cradled me.
“Sal,” I cried. “You came for me. You came for me.”
“Yes, I did, son.” He hugged me tightly.
“Well, I’ll be,” Officer Daily said. “How did you know he’d be here?”
Sal laughed. “I know my son,” he said. He tried wiping some of the tears streaming down my face.
“Sal, I…Sal…”
“What is it, son? What are you trying to say?”
“I’m trying to say I…I love you.”
“I love you too.” He hugged and kissed me.
“I love you,” I cried. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”
EPILOGUE
A lot has happened since that November day back in 1952:
Sal kept his word and stayed with us. He saw Gene and me through our teenage years. He helped us with school, took us on summer truck trips, and was as close to us as any father would have been. He is retired now and lives on Long Island with a woman he married back in the seventies. He has raised her children too;
Mom recovered from her back and neck injuries some five years later. But those years took a heavy toll on her. She has never since been quite free of illness or pain. She lives in New Jersey;
George is married and lives in the East with his wife and children. Although he’s had some troubled years, he is now a member of Alcoholics Anonymous;
Walter continued his education until he reached that place of safety. He lives with his family in the Midwest;
Larry ran from one place to another, from one thing to another. He’s estranged from his wife and children and lives somewhere in the East;
Jerome came home for short periods of time until 1958. He then came home and stayed until his death in 1961. He was twenty-one years old.
Gene learned computer operation while he served in the Marine Corps. He now lives and works on the West Coast;
As for the others, the Dailys, the Fraziers, Martha, and Stacy, they are my memories. Clarence said it best when he said, “And now I gots room fo’ mo’.”
I was a police officer in the late sixties when I adopted my daughter, Carolyn. That’s one less animal they’ll have to cage at night;
And last, but not least, Doggie is still with me. He hasn’t learned how to talk yet, but we do understand each other. Doggie, say hi.
Acknowledgment
Art Avielhe
Maureen and Harry Baron
Michaela Hamilton
Dan Frank
and
Barbara Veals
have my total gratitude for making this book possible
Steve Penn
John and Tony Bueti
Nancy Pratt
Dave Tiffany
Sal Lorello
Scott Zimmer
Carlos Fernandez
and
Dick Harvell
have my deepest friendship for their kindness
Tom Litwack
Frank and Edith Arco
a special thank you
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
JENNINGS MICHAEL BURCH was the author of the bestselling autobiography They Cage the Animals at Night. He worked as a New York City policeman, a chauffeur, a theater manager, a magazine pressman, and a short-order cook. He held a BA in forensic psychology from John Jay College. He passed away in 2013.
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