Chalk Dust & Broomsticks, Chapter 35

In which the whole of the lower school enjoy a trip to the zoological gardens.

October 1998

The Great Zoo Adventure: Wind, Whimsy, and Wellies

The planned trip to the zoo took place in mid-October, just before the half-term holidays. Shirley booked six coaches, enough to accommodate 300 children, staff and parent helpers, if they all turned up, Part of the cost was covered by school fund and the rest was parental contributions.

Shirley was busy in her office, counting the money when Mrs. Lawton (Sparrows) came in with some delightful drawings that her children had made. They were pictures of Shirley, as seen through the eyes of the five/six year-olds. Shirley smiled as she leafed through them.

‘They’re very good,’ she murmured. ‘Can I keep one or two of them for my wall?’

‘Of course you can. The children will be thrilled. Are you looking forward to the zoo trip on Friday?’

‘Yes, very much. It will be good to get outside and spend some time with the children. The coaches are booked and will arrive at 9.30 a.m. so the children will need to be ready.’

‘Oh yes, they’ll be ready, with their lunch boxes packed and in their bags. The other teachers and I have prepared some simple worksheets for them to use during and afterwards. Althea’s not back at work yet and she’s not coming. Her doctor advised against it, so I hope nothing goes wrong.’

Shirley grinned….’What could possibly go wrong? We are all well prepared and the children will be on their best behaviour, so roll on Friday. I’ve checked the weather forecast and it looks like dry and windy will predominate.’

+++

The crisp, bright air of early autumn was already buzzing with the energy of three hundred six and seven-year-olds. The big day had arrived! Everyone was looking forward to it. It was a trip to the Great Zoological Gardens, and the six coaches lined up outside Primrose Primary School felt like portals to a wider world. Every child was smartly clad in the school uniform: navy jumpers, grey trousers or skirts, and bright yellow polo shirts that promised to be excellent beacons for tracking purposes.

“Right, class! Listening ears flapping, please!”

Mrs. Lawton, the Year Two teacher and unofficial Head of Expedition, blew a whistle that was immediately drowned out by the gale of childish chatter and the rustle of six hundred crisp packets in thirty separate lunchboxes. The wind, a strong, blustering force, whipped around the schoolyard, tearing at scarves and making the pupils' hair dance a jig. It wasn't very cold, but the sheer wildness of the wind seemed to infect the children, turning an orderly queue into a wriggling, excited serpent.

“Parent helpers, please check your registers! We need a headcount before we even think about the lions!” Mrs. Lawton shouted, her voice nearly lost to the breeze.

The boarding process was a chaotic ballet of lost gloves, forgotten water bottles, and last-minute bathroom dashes. Finally, the six coaches, packed to the rafters with singing, shouting, and the constant thrum of anticipation, pulled away.

“Zoo! Zoo! Zoo!” chanted Coach Three, led by an enthusiastic Year Two boy named Toby who was already perilously close to bouncing out of his seat.

Upon arrival, the Great Zoological Gardens looked immense, a sprawling landscape of lush enclosures and winding paths. The wind, even stronger here, whistled through the tall trees, making the Autumn leaves perform a dizzying spiral dance. This was not the weather for calm contemplation; it was the weather for running and shouting.

Mrs. Lawton knew her audience. An hour into the visit, “First things first children! We’re eating early. Find a spot on the grass, sit down with your partner, but stay inside the cones! Lunch time, everyone!"

A collective cheer went up, and the perfectly packaged lunch packets were instantly ripped open. Sandwiches, sausage rolls, and little bags of crisps vanished in a flurry of crumbs and happy sighs. The promise of the afternoon’s adventures meant nobody dawdled, and the three hundred bellies were soon full.

With the necessary refueling complete, the great expedition began. The first stop was the elephant enclosure. Thirty small groups clustered around the high fence, their yellow shirts a vibrant splash against the grey wood.

“Look how big it is!” whispered Maya, her eyes wide as a massive African elephant slowly ambled into view, its trunk swinging like a heavy pendulum. The children moved on, captivated by the majestic sight of the giraffes, their necks stretching high above the viewing platform. The wind seemed to bother the giraffes, too, making their long legs look precarious as they leaned into the gusts.

Next came the big cats, housed in outside enclosures. The single tiger, a magnificent, striped hunter, was pacing restlessly, perhaps agitated by the weather. The children pressed against the railings, making little "ooh" and "aah" noises at its sheer power. The two lions were more sedate, a male with a glorious, wind-tousled mane and a female, both lounging on a rock, observing the squealing crowd with an air of regal boredom.

The smaller animals proved to be just as popular. The monkeys were a whirlwind of acrobatic movement, mirroring the children's own wild energy, and the penguins, waddling awkwardly on land before diving into their pool, were a guaranteed giggle-fest.

It was during the move towards the Petting Zoo that the whisper started.

"Mrs. Lawton... I'm missing Oscar," said Mrs. DeSilva, a nervous-looking parent helper for Group 5. Oscar, a shy but curiously adventurous boy, was nowhere to be seen.

The panic was immediate and infectious. Mrs. Lawton’s face went pale. Three hundred children are hard enough to manage, although the school uniforms with distinctive colours did help, but one missing six-year-old is a nightmare. Whistles blew, and the vast yellow army was commanded to halt. Teachers and parent helpers fanned out, their calls of "Oscar! Oscar!" echoing between the enclosures.

The search lasted a harrowing twenty minutes. Just as Mrs. Lawton was reaching for her phone to call the Zoo security, a shout went up.

"He's here! In the Komodo Dragon Cave!"

Oscar, completely oblivious to the chaos he had caused, emerged sheepishly from a dimly lit, strictly off-limits service tunnel beside the Komodo Dragon exhibit. He was covered in cobwebs and looked immensely pleased with himself.

"I wanted to see where the dragons sleep," he explained simply, clutching a muddy pebble. Mrs. Lawton sighed with relief that nearly buckled her knees, before giving him a stern lecture that was entirely lost on the now-giggling classes.

The afternoon was dedicated to fun, starting with the wooden climbing apparatus, a huge, multi-level jungle gym. Given the wind, it was a risky choice, but the children, now even more hyper after the Oscar incident, needed to burn off steam. While the children were playing, some of the teachers and parent helpers took a little break, still keeping an eye on their charges. With six children to each adult, it was imperative to be vigilant.

Shirley chatted with Mrs. Lawton…’How’s it going, Shirley? How are you getting on with the real dragon? Shirley started laughing… ‘yes, we have our own dragon, don’t we! We don’t really need to visit the zoo. It’s not going great, to be honest. I am not able to send information because the computers are not linked up. Everything I type on my computer stays on my computer, unless I put it on a saving device and physically give it to Mrs. Manipulator. I had hoped that during the holidays the computers would be networked and all the information could be shared, but no one seems to know anything about it and there’s no sense of urgency. I feel so isolated at the moment. Althea doesn’t seem to think any of that is important, but it is, really! I don’t see how the schools can be one entity until all the information is shared…”

“I heard talk of you being redundant; is that true?”

Shirley sighed, “Yes, apparently Althea doesn’t want a part-time secretary. What she wants is a full-time Personal Assistant and I can’t offer that. My Union Representative is dealing with it and I've had counselling recently.”

"She's really stirred things up, hasn't she - and not for the better, I feel," replied Mrs. Lawton sympathetically.

Three children were scrambling up nets and zipping down slides with abandon. Then came the heart-stopping CRACK.

A Year Two girl named Scarlett, attempting a daring leap between two platforms, misjudged her footing. She didn’t fall far, but she landed awkwardly, letting out a sharp, immediate cry of pain. Within minutes, it was clear: this was more than a graze. Her ankle was at an unnatural angle. An ambulance was called, and within half an hour, Scarlett, brave and tearful, was being rushed to the nearest hospital with her mother and Mrs. Lawton, the fun-filled trip suddenly taking a sobering turn.

As the remaining five coaches prepared for departure, the weather finally broke. A heavy, chilling rain began to fall, turning the paths slick and the wind into a cold, biting force. The children, previously so wild, were now soaked, their yellow shirts plastered to them, their energy finally flagging.

The journey back was quieter, but no less eventful. The combined factors of extreme excitement, a very windy day, the shock of the accident, and now the cold, damp clothes proved too much for a few little stomachs.

Shirley was in Coach Two, in charge of the official sick bucket. The moment the coach hit a particularly bumpy patch of road, a small, pale Year One boy named Daniel turned a worrying shade of green.

"Oh, Miss," he mumbled, clutching his stomach.

Shirley was ready. "Right here, sweetheart, aim for the bucket!"

The retching was a cue for others. Before they reached the school gates, the sick bucket had been used twice more, each instance triggering a fresh wave of groans and concerned glances from the other children.

As the six coaches finally rolled back into the school car park, the light was fading, the rain was easing to a drizzle, and the three hundred adventurers, smelling faintly of stale crisps and damp wool, tumbled out. It had been an exhilarating, exhausting, and utterly chaotic day. The children had seen elephants, admired lions, and learned a powerful lesson: adventure, especially one powered by wind and rain, always comes at a cost.

'That was great, but I'm glad it's over’, sighed Shirley, as she attended to cleaning the sick bucket. ‘It was a lovely day, but it’s always so tiring. I can’t wait to go home and put my feet up in front of the fire and see my lovely cats…’

+++