Melanie in Manhattan by Carol Weston

Author:Carol Weston [Weston, Carol]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-307-82908-5
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2012-09-26T04:00:00+00:00

Soon other people came over to see what we were staring at. Before long, there were more people oohing and aahing at the ducklings than had been oohing and aahing at the paintings. The baby ducks followed their mom everywhere, hopping over and scooting under the lily pads.

“Vámonos” (Ba Moan Ohs), Mom said, which means “Let’s go.” She suggested we walk across Central Park, and I couldn’t object since I’d sent Miguel that Nature Girl e-mail.

Mom must have read my mind, because she said, “A little sunshine will feel good and will help Miguel get over jet lag. Once we get to the West Side, we’ll take a taxi. Deal?” I nodded.

Central Park is giant. You could walk all day and not see it all. It goes from the East Side (Fifth Avenue) to the West Side (Central Park West). And from 59th Street all the way up to 110th.

We walked and walked (well, Matt also skipped), and Miguel liked how people on horseback trotted by and how teams of kids were playing sports and how a few mothers were jogging with babies in special strollers and how we were in a park but surrounded by tall buildings. The grass in one area was freshly cut, and Matt said it smelled “green,” and I said “verde” (Bear Day), and we all talked about whether colors have smells. We passed Bethesda Terrace and got to Strawberry Fields. Miguel said, “Strawberry? Fresa?” (Fray Sa).

Mom started singing the Beatles song (she never gets embarrassed!), then pointed out the Dakota, the building where John Lennon was killed in 1980. She explained that his widow, Yoko Ono, gave a million dollars and got lots of different countries to send plants and help make a Garden of Peace.

Miguel took a photo of the black-and-white mosaic that says IMAGINE, and Mom started singing that song too. “Imagine all the people, living life in peace …”

Suddenly a squirrel dashed out and Miguel shouted, “¡Ardilla!” (R D Ya). I said that squirrels are totally common here, no big deal, but Miguel didn’t care. It was as if he had seen an endangered rhinoceros or something. He took more photos of the squirrel than he’d taken of the penguins or polar bears or monkeys or me. Combined! He even asked me to take one of him in front of a tree with a squirrel climbing up the trunk. Which I did, but I was a teeny tiny bit annoyed because I’d never been upstaged by a bushy-tailed squirrel before.

If I had pointed at the squirrel, would Miguel have taken my hand and helped me count all the squirrels in the park?

Instead of passing Tavern on the Green, we walked north to the theater where Shakespeare plays are performed outdoors in the summer. There’s a statue of Romeo and Juliet, and Juliet’s head is tilted up, and her hair is falling straight down behind her, and she’s on tiptoe, and she and Romeo are almost (but not quite) kissing. I don’t

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