I lifted a single peanut up to the great animal. His trunk, as thick as a fire hose, brushed past my small offering and went for what I held in my other hand—the whole bag of peanuts. Tears came to my eyes as he snatched it away.
I looked to Dad. A grin broke across his face.
“Smart old man,” he said of the elephant.
His voice stopped my tears. I looked back and saw the elephant, the rope around his foot.
“Come on, let’s go,” Dad said.
I looked over at the peanut man. Part of me wanted to ask for another bag so I could try again. But part of me did not.
I pocketed the peanut I had offered and we walked away.
humid evening from a distant tent an elephant trumpets