expensive, so I'll have plenty of money
left for a good lunch. But while I'm mooning, Mary has wheeled her bike
right up and paid her own fare. Well, I guess that's one of the things I
like about her. She's independent. Still, I'm going to buy lunch.

The ferry is terrific. I'm going to come ride ferries every day it's
windy. The boat doesn't roll any, but we stand right up in front and the
wind blows clouds of spray in our faces. You can pretend you're on a
full-rigged schooner running before a hurricane. But you look down at that
choppy gray water, and you know you'd be done if you got blown overboard,
even if it is just an old ferryboat in New York harbor.

The ferry ride is fast, only about fifteen minutes. We ride off in Staten
Island and start thinking where to go. I know what's first with me.

I ask Mary, "What do you like, hamburgers or sandwiches?"

"Both. I mean either," she says.

The first place we see is a delicatessen, which is about my favorite kind
of place to eat anyway. I order a hot pastrami, and Mary says she never
had one, but she'll try the same.

"Where could we go on Staten Island?" I say. "I never was here before."

"About the only place I've been is the zoo. I've been there lots of times.
The vet let me watch her operate on a snake once."

This is a pretty surprising thing for a girl to tell you in the middle of
a mouthful of hot pastrami. The pastrami is great, and they put it on a
roll with a lot of olives and onions and relish. Mary likes it too.

"Is the vet a woman? Aren't you scared of snakes?"

"Uh-un, I never was really. But when you're watching an operation, you get
so interested you don't think about it being icky or scary. The vet is a
woman. She's been there quite a while."

I digest this along with the rest of my sandwich. Then we both have a
piece of apple pie. You can tell from the way the crust looks--browned and
a little uneven--that they make it right here.

"So shall we go to the zoo?" Mary asks.

"O.K." I get up to get her coat and mine. When I turn around, there she is
up by the cashier, getting ready to pay her check.

"Hey, I'm buying lunch," I say, steaming up with the other check.

"Oh, that's all right." She smiles. "I've got it."

I don't care if she's _got_ it. I want to _pay_ it. I suppose it's a silly
thing to get sore about, but it sort of annoys me. Anyway, how do you
maneuver around to do something for a girl when she doesn't even know you
want