Nocturnal Emission

Farky tiptoed down the gloomy curved passage and emerged into the heart of darkness that was the Nocturnal House.

He looked around. He could see nothing but a series of bluish glows, and ghostly lit-up branches. It was perfectly quiet.

I need a minute to adjust, he thought. He closed his eyes and began to sniff.

Sniff, sniff, sniff, sniff, he sniffed loudly.

Then he remembered the sign. Oh dear, said Farky, I forgot about the dear little Ghost Bat babies. Where are they I wonder?

He opened his eyes. Now he could see a bit better. He stood on his hind legs and looked over a railing into a dark bluish enclosure decorated with colourless branches that were dotted with slices of apple. But nothing alive.

He tried the next one. In one corner he saw a group of bilbies, nibbling apples.

Bilbies, he said. Someone's awake at least.

Next he walked over to a glass-fronted enclosure set into the wall. It too contained branches, and slices of apple were attached to the branches with pins.

A family of humans came in, while Farky was staring hard at the apple slices.

A little girl pushed past him and looked up into the murky heights of the next glass enclosure.

Here they are! she shouted.

Where? asked Farky.

Up there, said the girl.

Farky looked over and up.

He saw a furry mass of writhing bats hanging upside down from a pole.

He didn't know how he ought to feel towards the bats. They didn't look very nice. In fact, he thought, they looked rather disgusting. But if they were the parents for whose sake he was being especially quiet, shouldn't he be feeling more tender? And if they were the baby bats, what of that? Who knew what size baby bats were? This Zoo was a puzzle. It was a set of conundrums. It was a contradiction in terms. It was an ethical nightmare. IT WAS NO PLACE FOR DOGS!!!!

He turned tail and ran out of the Nocturnal House, to find Sweezus.

Immersions

Farky stood outside the old Elephant House in his plastic Panda Hat, stricken with thoughts of mortality.

You need cheering up Farky, said Sweezus. This is a sad part of the zoo. I'm going to take you to an Immersion.

An Immersion! said Farky. His ears pricked up, setting his Panda Hat askew. What's that?

I read about Immersion while I was inside the elephant house, said Sweezus. It's when the Zoo tries to make you feel as though you're totally immersed in the animals' habitat. For example, you walk along a narrow jungle trail lined with tall bamboos and emerge onto a high wooden viewing platform right under a treeful of gibbons.

Gibbons! said Farky. Are they alive? he asked, suspiciously.

Of course they are, said Sweezus. Come on let's follow our map.

They passed the giraffe enclosure, which seemed too small for the two tall giraffes who lived there. A meerkat in an adjoining enclosure paced up and down on the concrete just inside the fence. A sun bear looked decidedly depressed. Sweezus hoped they would soon find an Immersion.

Farky had recovered from his existential moment. He was bounding ahead along the path sniffing at smells. When he reached the Nocturnal House, he stuck his head in. Near the entrance was a sign that said Shush! The Ghost Bats have just had babies. Please help them by being as quiet as possible. He tiptoed in.