The Stories of Rufus and Jessie

In Hell on Earth, a love story, I wrote about a story I didn't get published in the newspaper. The paper had run a story on the front page about placing a cardboard picture of a rhino in the zoo to make one of the rhinos (Jessie) jealous and induce her to mate with the other rhino (Rufus). They never did a follow-up, which I thought was kind of strange since it was such a strange story to begin with. I sent them this story but apparently in the newspaper business, when it come to stories about rhinos, the policy is one and done.


Jessie’s Story

Rufus had better watch out now. There’s a new rhino in town. In many ways he looks a lot like Rufus. Same coloring. Same size. The way he stands in one place for hours on end. Even his horns look the same.

But in some ways, he’s different. For one thing, he is always standing in those four garbage cans. Living in a zoo can sure do strange things to a rhino, but I’ve never seen one spend the whole day standing in garbage cans. Different strokes for different rhino folks, I guess.

Another thing is he seems to be on the thin side. Actually, he’s a lot on the thin side. Mind you, I haven’t gotten a real good look at him because he appears to be rather shy. But once I did catch a glimpse of him head on, and I gotta be honest with you, he was the skinniest damn rhino I’ve ever seen.

I know I ain’t seen no other rhino ‘cept old Rufus, but I never expected to see one so—how should I say it—narrow. Maybe some tasty zoo grub will put some meat on that horn.

But even though he ain’t much to look at, I have to admit there’s some chemistry goin’ on here. I saw him giving me the eye. Well, he wasn’t actually giving me the eye. Rhino’s don’t do that. He was more like giving me the nod. I tell you, it drives me wild when another rhino gives me the nod.

I can’t tell you how much I’ve wanted Rufus to give me the nod. Seventeen years in the same pen and never once does he give me a nod. Not even a bob or a dip. So what am I, chopped wildebeast?

Not that I haven’t tried to get his attention. I must have sashayed a million miles across the yard trying to get a charge out of old Rufus.
But noooo!

I swear, sometimes I have even caught him staring at the elephants. The elephants! What is he—dreaming?

Well, tomorrow, I might just mossy on over to that new boy. Maybe, with a little luck—you know what they say—first comes a nod, then comes marriage, then comes a rhino in a baby carriage.

It would serve old Rufus right.



Rufus’s Story

I know. She’s probably told you I don’t like her. She’s wrong.

There are times—mostly when the zoo is closed and we are alone—when I catch myself looking at her and thinking—she’s not half bad. That’s saying a lot for a rhino.

But I just don’t know what kind of a future we’d have. Oh, I’ve talked to the other animals. They tell me it just ain’t the same in a zoo. I wouldn’t know because all I know is the zoo, but sometimes I just get tired of all the people looking and pointing. I know it doesn’t bother everyone. But I’m not like the monkeys. Rhinos like their privacy.

As it is the people never stop watching us. Morning, noon, and night. You’d think they’d never seen one before. I should talk. I’ve only seen one, myself. Until a few days ago. Until HE came along.

So far he hasn’t gotten too close. I suppose that he smells this is my territory. Actually he hasn’t ventured anywhere, yet.

He never moves. I never see him coming or going. He just sort of materializes out of nowhere. One minute he’s not there and then suddenly, there he is, standing in those four garbage cans.

I don’t understand the garbage cans. It must some sort of fad or something. I don’t get around much so there are a lot of things I miss. But I know one thing. I think Jessie is attracted to them. And I think she likes him.

She stares at him quite a bit. And I’ve seen him giving her the nod. I hate it when another rhino moves in and starts giving your girl the nod.

That’s right. My girl. Jessie is my girl and just because I’ve been a little shy up to now, that doesn’t mean I don’t like her. I’m going to do whatever it takes to win her back. I’m going to snort a little louder and charge a little faster. And I’m going to invite her to wallow with me. I may even—and I never thought I would be saying this—but I may even find some garbage cans of my own to stand in.

That’ll show that skinny little psuedo-phony-hippo wannabe.