We disembarked and Solomon declared it was time for lunch. We stopped at the Falstaff Inn, a two-story structure with flags waving on top and tables and chairs outside under an awning. We sat outside and didn’t order off the menu. Instead, Solomon sent Li to purchase two of his favorite foods that had been introduced at the Fair for the first time, hot dogs and ice-cream cones. A few minutes later, we were all toasting Star’s birthday with a hot dog in one hand and an ice-cream cone in the other. Star giggled and dribbled and gave Solomon a hug and a kiss that left traces of mustard and chocolate in his white beard. Even Li liked the ice cream and grunted as it melted and ran down his stone face.
Within moments of finishing her ice cream, Star was tugging on Carolina and saying, “Fierce Whale, Mommy, let’s ride the Fierce Whale.”
Solomon interjected and announced that our appointment for our private ride was at four o’clock sharp. Our appointment for our private tour of Jerusalem was at three-thirty and, therefore, we could not dawdle. “The Fierce Whale at four,” he said, “and Jerusalem at three-thirty, but first — the Pike.”
The Pike was easily the most crowded area of the Fair and the most fun. It was one long, wide boulevard with everything you could imagine from “Blarney Castle” and the “Tyrolean Alps” to the “Battle of Santiago” and the “Galveston Flood.” The Pike was a living color picture of the world. Architecture, scenery, concessions. Anything, everything. We even saw a statue of Teddy Roosevelt made of butter and a bear made of prunes. We wandered in and out of everywhere, but Star loved Hagenbeck’s Animal Circus best. There she got to see animals she’d only seen in books, roaming at large inside a huge compound. Except perhaps in her dreams, it was the closest she’d ever been to elephants and tigers. Solomon was as fascinated as Star, or perhaps because of her, and had to be reminded by Carolina that three-thirty was approaching.
We hurried down the Pike and reached the gates of Jerusalem just in time. A dark, heavyset man who seemed to know Solomon greeted us and escorted our entire party inside and to a tent where six camels stood saddled and in a line, one behind the other. We were introduced to our guide, who wore a long robe and turban, despite the heat. We were each given a robe and turban to wear and told, “Believe it or not, you will be cooler.” The women were asked to wear veils, even Star, and we all looked very mysterious as our caravan set out through Jerusalem. Our guide was in front, followed by Ciela, Carolina with Star in her lap, Solomon, myself, and Li as a sort of caboose. The camels were each attended by two boys, one in front with the reins and one by the saddle for assistance. The camels snorted and baulked at first, but then fell into their lazy, awkward gait. Carolina and Star were laughing hysterically and Solomon looked like a long-lost Arab prince returning home.
Jerusalem was one of the largest exhibits of the Fair and the most labyrinthine. Streets led into streets that led back into themselves. Every passage was narrow and claustrophobic with people and dust. Dogs barked and merchants shouted in foreign languages. It was dreamlike, exotic, and felt, as Solomon said, “more real than it ever was.”
After several minutes, maybe ten, maybe twenty, we came to a particularly tight and congested corner. The camel boys slowed the camels, but it was too late. A man had tumbled out of an open doorway into the street and surprised our guide and the lead camel. The camel stopped abruptly and kicked the camel boy behind, who screamed and fell, spooking Ciela’s camel into a spin and tangling legs with Carolina’s camel, which lost its balance and fell sideways, throwing Carolina and Star into the crowd.
Just in front of me, Solomon tried to get down from his camel, but the crowd pushed against him, locking him in his saddle. I had to get closer. I turned around and waved to Li and the both of us leaped into the chaos and, with Li as a battering ram, made our way to Solomon. I yelled up at him, “Can you see anything?”
“Yes, I can see Carolina,” he said. “She is standing. She is all right, but confused, a little dazed, I think. But. but. ” He was straining forward in his saddle, looking left and right, frantically. “I can’t see Star, Z. I can’t see Star!”
Li and I pushed forward, finally making it to Carolina, who had lost her robe, turban, and veil. She was shaken, but coming to her senses. People speaking in Arabic were dusting her off and feeling her limbs, making sure nothing was broken.
“I’m fine. Thank you. Enough of that, thank you,” she was telling them. Just then, she saw Li. “Find Star,” she yelled, “find Star, Li!”
I got to her a moment later. “Are you all right?” I had almost to yell myself.
She reached out for my hand. “Yes, yes, I’m fine, just scared. Where’s Solomon?”
“He’s all right. He’s stuck back on his camel.”
“Good,” she said. “Let’s find Star, Z.”
The camels had been secured and the panic of the crowd had dissipated. Shouts passed back and forth between our guide and two other men about who was to blame. Up ahead, there was a circle of people gathered around a doorway. Li was on the outside of the ring, waving to us. We ran toward him. He nodded at the circle and Carolina pulled at people’s arms and shoulders, yelling, “Out of the way!”
In the middle of the circle, sitting on the stoop of the doorway, Ciela was holding a trembling child, wearing a robe, turban, and veil with her head buried in Ciela’s chest.
“Is she all right?” Carolina asked in a kind of strained whisper.
Ciela nodded, but didn’t speak. She held the child close, rocking back and forth, and softly saying, “Shh, shh.”
We stood in silence, catching our breath, which was difficult. Dust was everywhere, kicked up during the melee, and the camel boys were still trying to calm the animals. I looked back for Solomon, and just as I saw his familiar white head above the crowd, I caught sight of something else familiar, a movement between the camels, but I couldn’t pinpoint it. Then Solomon broke through and took charge.
“Is everyone in one piece?” he asked Carolina.
“Yes, thank God,” she said. “We could have been thrown anywhere.”
“Is Star unhurt?” He bent down and patted the child, who still clung to Ciela for dear life. “Star, honey,” he said in his softest voice, “are you all right?”
She nodded, but kept her face pressed against Ciela’s chest. Solomon stood up and looked around angrily for our guide, who had disappeared. “I shall sue them for zis,” he said, then he helped Ciela to her feet. He and Carolina put their arms around her. “Come,” he said, “if everyone is up to it, we go ride the Ferris Wheel. I guarantee in five minutes, Star will forget zis ever happened.”
After several wrong turns, we eventually found our way out of Jerusalem and through the Japanese Gardens, just in time to make our prearranged ride on the Ferris Wheel. We were still flustered as we approached it. I could barely comprehend the sheer size of it. It was over two hundred and sixty feet high, had thirty-six cars that were almost thirty feet long and over twelve feet wide, an axle one hundred and forty feet above ground, and steel rods extending in pairs to the rim all around. To me, it looked like a giant, spinning spiderweb.
We walked up the platform and the doors to our car were opened. There were glass walls on all sides so the entire fairgrounds could be observed as the wheel turned in its great orbit.
After all the cars were loaded, the ride consisted of four revolutions. On our first revolution, we all stood in silence and gazed down on the Fair and Forest Park from a new perspective. At the top of the arc of our second revolution, Carolina, who had been standing next to Ciela, leaned over to kiss Star, pulling the veil away.