So, after the battle, we traveled to the other side of the Dalian Forest Zoo called “Phase B”. There, we bought tickets to see a “African Elephant Show”.

On the show, I sat down, ate some Cheetos, and watched the show.

First, elephants marched back and forth on three legs, picked up some people using the trunks, and did other exhilarating things.

They were fun to watch. Soon, the announcer began talking again after the previous introductions for the marching and the picking-up-people.

“Elephants are extremely well at their power to— play hula hoops! To prove it, we are going to invite some of you audience to come up and help prove what I’m saying is true!”

A few ladies went up. A man.

A lot of people wanted to go up, but I had made the sudden decision that I wanted to go up, too. With permission from my mom, I started going down the aisles.

At the bottom, a man let me in, and I grabbed a hula hoop.

Turning around, I faced the vast crowd. The nervousness and hidey-hole feelings came back to me. I wanted to go back to Mommy (I call her that when I’m nervous).

“Now, there are ten people for this contest. Why? Because we have prepared TEN hula-hoops,” The announcer painfully (to me) announced. Now I knew I couldn’t just run off, because I would have the whole audience starring at me.

The hula hoop was the heavy kind that I wasn’t used too. But I was determined to not ruin my reputation.

The hoop began to swing. It dropped, and to compensate, I furiously wobbled my body. The hoop began to come up. This was fun.

“Hmm,” said the announcer, “the boy is doing good!” I was doing good! Some people might not consider “good” praise, but I thought it was.

The hoop fell down toward the floor. But I didn’t care. As everyone else was doing, I picked it up and continued to hoop the hoola.

After a minute, I was let back to the crowd, and to my mother. I watched the rest of the show with excitement.

As I came out of the stadium they used for the performance, I told my mom something.

“The hoola is fun!”