mile 3161. city museum, st louis
He was our cheshire cat, all smiling white teeth appearing out of nowhere. "That there's our giant slinky," he said, first materializing in the hallway to answer our unspoken question. "It's how you get to the third floor."
We hesitated in front of the narrow coils of steel suspended three flights above the lobby. "You want us to CLIMB this?"
"Sure do. Press your back against the bottom bar there and push with your legs."
"Really?"
"It's easy."
"Really?"
He grinned at us. "Sure."
So we did what he said, squeezing our way through and up, looking down at the lobby floor, then up at the ceiling as we twisted and kicked our way inside the slinky until, upside down, we slid out to the third floor and the steel tunnels that awaited.
He appeared again after the skateless skate park when we were looking at the shrunken heads glowing in large pickle jars at Beatnik Bob's. "Did you see the world's largest underpants yet?" He was sitting at one of the diner tables as if he'd been there all along. "It's right over there." I could only half see him in the red light. I never saw him leave.
Hours later, after we peeked at the enchanted caves and got lost in the crafts room and were headed to the aquarium, we ran into him again. He popped out from behind a catfish. "Do you want to take the ultimate challenge?"
"Huh?"
"THERE is the ultimate challenge." He pointed across the room to a gnarly old tree surrounded by steps and ladders and vines.
"Here?" I bounded up a ladder, all confident.
"No girl, Here!"
The tree trunk was hollow. It went up about seven feet to a platform in the branches. The inside of the trunk was dark and narrow with cobwebs at the top. "The trick is to use your feet and hands at the same time." There was no way my hips or my bfa were going to fit into that narrow space. But greg was game to try. I scrambled up the ladder to watch him while he struggled in the confines of the trunk until his face turned red. There was a moment when I thought he was stuck. I think that moment came a little sooner for him. "Go ahead and rip those vines down if you need to," said the cat with a grin. "We'll replace them if we have to."
When Greg finally made it to the top, breathless and triumphant, the cat ambled off through the halls. We sat together at the top of the tree, bruised scraped, covered in paint, clay and bits of paper and watched him go. Most of the questions were obvious. This is a museum? How can it be legal? Why is it five o'clock already? And when can we come back?
We hesitated in front of the narrow coils of steel suspended three flights above the lobby. "You want us to CLIMB this?"
"Sure do. Press your back against the bottom bar there and push with your legs."
"Really?"
"It's easy."
"Really?"
He grinned at us. "Sure."
So we did what he said, squeezing our way through and up, looking down at the lobby floor, then up at the ceiling as we twisted and kicked our way inside the slinky until, upside down, we slid out to the third floor and the steel tunnels that awaited.
He appeared again after the skateless skate park when we were looking at the shrunken heads glowing in large pickle jars at Beatnik Bob's. "Did you see the world's largest underpants yet?" He was sitting at one of the diner tables as if he'd been there all along. "It's right over there." I could only half see him in the red light. I never saw him leave.
Hours later, after we peeked at the enchanted caves and got lost in the crafts room and were headed to the aquarium, we ran into him again. He popped out from behind a catfish. "Do you want to take the ultimate challenge?"
"Huh?"
"THERE is the ultimate challenge." He pointed across the room to a gnarly old tree surrounded by steps and ladders and vines.
"Here?" I bounded up a ladder, all confident.
"No girl, Here!"
The tree trunk was hollow. It went up about seven feet to a platform in the branches. The inside of the trunk was dark and narrow with cobwebs at the top. "The trick is to use your feet and hands at the same time." There was no way my hips or my bfa were going to fit into that narrow space. But greg was game to try. I scrambled up the ladder to watch him while he struggled in the confines of the trunk until his face turned red. There was a moment when I thought he was stuck. I think that moment came a little sooner for him. "Go ahead and rip those vines down if you need to," said the cat with a grin. "We'll replace them if we have to."
When Greg finally made it to the top, breathless and triumphant, the cat ambled off through the halls. We sat together at the top of the tree, bruised scraped, covered in paint, clay and bits of paper and watched him go. Most of the questions were obvious. This is a museum? How can it be legal? Why is it five o'clock already? And when can we come back?
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