A Visit to the Tallahassee Museum
Today I went to the Tallahassee Museum with Kris, Sophie, and Jake. We had a lovely time. The Tallahassee Museum is one of my favorite places, a place I have been a thousand times over the course of my life. Every square inch has a special memory associated with it, and today we made more memories. They were mostly of the funny variety.
The first thing we did was go into the old church, where Jake delivered a sermon from the pulpit. Then we moved on to the caboose, where we played an imagination game of Jake’s invention. Sophie and I were sugar gliders and movie stars; we were travelers. Her name was Crystal, and my name was Amethyst. Jake owned the caboose; in fact, he had built it with his own two hands.
Jake was a wonderful host. He served us hot coffee and cigars in the caboose’s sweltering confines. Then he served us piping hot bacon.
“What is your name, sir?” I asked. “And what is your partner’s name?” I said, gesturing to Kris.
“This is Butterloaf,” he said, meaning Kris. “And my name is Shaw-Shaw.”
“Well,” I said, “you are wonderful people with wonderful names. It’s great to know that such wonderful folks are running the cabooses in this country.”
Crystal practiced her ninja moves for an upcoming movie role, and Shaw-Shaw decided she wasn’t being nice.
“It is nighttime!” he said. “You have to come and lie down!”
Next the train–well, the caboose–stopped and Shaw-Shaw wanted to show us the hotel he owned. It was Bellevue Plantation. Kris and I love Bellevue, so we kept talking about it, talking about how beautiful it is–so plain and simple. Shaw-Shaw didn’t like that. “Stop talking!” he cried. “Nobody’s allowed to talk unless they’re answering me!”
We walked on the trails through the woods to see the deer and wild turkey and black bears. Jake started pouting. (He didn’t want to walk the trails; he wanted to play on the playground.) He told Kris he had a tummy ache and he needed to see a doctor.
“You’re hungry,” Kris said. “You didn’t eat your lunch. Neither of you did.”
“That’s because a cat licked the mashed potatoes,” Sophie replied.
Jake refused to believe he was merely hungry. He thought his condition was something more serious. “I’ve been feeling this way since we went to Big Kahuna’s!” he insisted. “I need to go to the doctor!”
“Fine,” Kris said. “We’ll go to the doctor tomorrow instead of going to Cheehaw Animal Park.” (They had big plans to visit Cheehaw Animal Park, an awesome little zoo in Albany.)
Jake wasn’t too thrilled with that idea. He stood at the beginning of the trail near the deer enclosure and refused to budge. He claimed now to have been offended by something Kris had said. “Mommy,” he cried, “you said I was complaining and I wasn’t. So that is not fair! I was just telling you something. I was telling you I need to go to the doctor! I thought you’d like to know!”
“I didn’t say you were complaining,” Kris said gently.
“You were thinking it!” Jake cried.
Sophie and Kris and I walked just a little tiny ways ahead. Then we came back for him.
“Um, Jake,” I said, “we just got a report that there’s an escaped killer on the loose. He broke out of the Leon County Jail about an hour ago and was seen headed in this direction. I’m sure you’ll be fine, but if you hear any rustling in the bushes or anything, it could be the escaped killer. I just thought you might want to be aware. Anyway, we’ll be back soon. We’ll see you when we finish looking at the animals.”
Jake was scared, but he couldn’t let on. “How did you get the report?” he demanded. “Huh? Huh? How did you get it?” Yet he was following us now, staying close. “I’m coming with you, but that doesn’t mean I believe you. I’m still mad at Mommy. Mommy, I’m still mad at you.”
We looked at the black bears, and the alligator. Jake decided to blow the alligator kisses. Yet he still didn’t let go of his beef with Kris. “I just need to go to the doctor, Mommy,” he said. “That’s all I’m saying. I wasn’t complaining.”
He decided perhaps some snacks from the gift shop might help with his medical issues.
He picked out a bottle of Smartwater, some Pringles, Reese’s Pieces, and three kinds of M&M’s.
“That ought to settle your stomach,” I smiled.
“Let’s eat,” Jake cheerfully proposed. “And then we can play on the playground.”
And so we sat at a little picnic table in the shade, and Jake made his way through his marvelous feast of chocolate and potato chips.
It was so nice to be surrounded by trees and old farm buildings, gentle horses and goats. . . . I love the dear old Tallahassee Museum. I wish I could live there.
