Chomp j-4

by Carl Hiaasen

  An air horn blew, and then a man hollered something about a siesta. The words were hard to make out, but the Australian accent was unmistakable.

  “Mr. Dork Badger,” Wahoo’s father said to himself.

  Then, to his favorite reptile, now at the bottom of the pond: “Don’t worry, princess. He tries anything funny, I’ll personally bite his head off.”

  SEVEN

  The underwater camera, bolted to an aluminum rod, was operated by remote control. Another camera was stationed at ground level by the side of the pool, while a third was mounted with a microphone on a high boom extending above the set.

  Derek Badger waded in up to his ankles; he wore a spotless safari shirt and creased khaki hiking shorts. Strapped to one leg was a black-handled diver’s knife.

  “Don’t worry-it’s just a prop,” said Raven Stark. She was fanning Derek’s face while the TV lights were being arranged.

  “Looks like a real knife to me,” Mickey Cray said. He was down on one knee, chewing a wad of bubble gum. Wahoo could see the bulge from the. 45 pistol tucked under his dad’s shirt.

  Alice was still ten feet deep, invisible.

  Derek peered into the pond. “Well?” he said.

  “Go for it,” the director told him. “We’re rolling.”

  “ ’Kay, mate.”

  Derek slipped up to his neck into the water, careful not to muss his hair. “No mistakes!” he shouted at the crew, and went breathlessly into the script:

  “Soon the sun will be setting over the Everglades, and I find myself in a perilous predicament. I must now swim across this deep, murky pond to reach dry ground, where I can camp for the night and hopefully start a fire.

  “Getting across this water is absolutely crucial to my survival, but here’s the problem-in the bush I’ve discovered fresh signs of an extremely large alligator, and I mean HUGE, lurking close by! Unfortunately, I don’t know where this massive beast is hiding right now, but it surely can’t be far…”

  Wahoo glanced over at Mickey, who didn’t look enthralled.

  Derek was treading water, facing the camera mounted on the shore:

  “The American alligator is one of the most primitive brutes on the planet. In millions of years this toothy species hasn’t changed hardly at all, and there’s a good reason for that. You see, gators are perfect predators-powerful, silent and unbelievably fast!

  “If that monster were to attack me right now, the only chance I’d have of escaping alive would be to fight back ferociously, desperately, and gouge it in the eyes…”

  Wahoo watched his father’s expression darken.

  Meanwhile, the guy with the remote control for the underwater camera was urgently pointing at the screen of his video monitor, trying to get the director’s attention. Apparently Alice was on the move.

  Mickey Cray stood up. Wahoo’s eyes flicked toward the cattails, where he’d concealed a long bamboo pole. The pole could be used to poke the alligator if she decided to attack.

  Derek slowly began swimming across the pool, calling back to his imaginary viewers:

  “Well, wish me luck. Here I go!”

  Wahoo and his father sidled closer to the video monitor and peeked over the cameraman’s shoulder. The screen showed a view from the submerged camera-Derek’s pale arms stroking and his legs kicking, leaving a wake of foam and bubbles.

  And there was Alice, suspended beneath him, gazing up at the odd, obnoxious creature that had invaded her space.

  “This is insane,” Wahoo whispered.

  “Naw, she won’t touch him,” said his father. “Not on a full belly.”

  But there was an edge of tension in Mickey’s voice.

  “What if you’re wrong, Pop?”

  “Don’t think like that. Who knows Alice better than I do?”

  Sure enough, Derek Badger made it safely across the pond and slogged up into the shallows. The last line of the scene was supposed to be: Whew! That was a mighty close call!

  But what he said was: “Hey, where was that stupid bloody gator?”

  Mickey looked pleased. Wahoo felt a wave of relief-Alice had been a good sport.

  The director assured Derek that the scene had turned out fantastic. “Your tippy toes were just millimeters from her jaws! Incredible stuff!”

  Derek trudged around the bank of the pond and rejoined the crew. “I want to do another take,” he said sullenly.

  “But why? Come see the replay-it’s perfect.” The director looked at Raven for backup. She pleaded under her breath with Derek, but he wouldn’t budge.

  With a sigh of surrender, the director said, “Okay, then. Let’s try another one.”

  Wahoo’s father stepped forward. “Naw, we’re done. You got what you need.”

  Derek, who was smoothing his hair, gave no sign of hearing a word. Raven said, “Just one more take, Mr. Cray. That’ll do it.”

  “Only if he gets rid of that bleeping knife.”

  “But I told you, it’s just a toy-”

  Wahoo’s dad reached over and snatched the dive knife from the sheath on Derek’s leg. He pressed the point of the blade to the tip of his forefinger, and a crimson bubble appeared. Raven cleared her throat. Derek shrugged, turning away.

  Mickey wiggled the knife and arched his eyebrows. “That’s some toy.” He closed one hand firmly around the handle, as if testing the grip.

  The mischievous glint in his dad’s eyes made Wahoo uneasy. “Give me that thing, Pop. I’ll put it somewhere safe.”

  “Don’t worry. I got just the place.”

  Mickey wiped the blade on the collar of Derek’s safari shirt, the blood droplet leaving a small brownish smear. Then he tossed the knife high in the air and watched it spiral down into the middle of the pond, where it disappeared with a sploosh.

  Derek was now paying attention. “Are you totally, completely out of your mind?”

  Mickey clicked his teeth. “You got fifteen minutes, brother. One more shot.”

  The TV crew began scrambling. Somebody brought Derek a clean shirt, and Raven retouched the makeup on his nose. The director checked the angles on all three cameras while his assistants adjusted the lighting.

  A swelling appeared in the glassy pool-Alice, rising to take a breath. This time the full breadth of her back broke the surface, the black scales glistening like barnacles. She was as wide as a railroad track.

  Derek said, “Ha! Nice of you to finally make an appearance.”

  Everyone on the crew stopped to gaze at the enormous creature that floated only a few feet away. Wahoo could tell they were impressed. He could also see they were jittery about being so close to such an animal.

  “Don’t you move!” Derek barked at the reptile. He wheeled on Mickey: “Make sure she stays right there till I’m back in the water.”

  Wahoo’s dad just shook his head.

  The director yelled, “Action!” and Derek jumped into the pond. He was about as graceful as a potbellied pig.

  Alice immediately sank out of sight.

  “No! No!” Derek squawked. “Where’d she go now?” He was dog-paddling in circles.

  Wahoo was glad that the dive knife was sunk out of Derek’s reach-there was no telling what he might do to provoke the gator. Watching the underwater monitor, Wahoo saw her hunkered once again at the bottom of the pool.

  “Start your lines!” the director called.

  Derek refused. “Not till that silly bloody lizard pops up again.”

  Raven leaned close to Wahoo and inquired how long Alice could hold her breath.

  “Hours,” he replied.

  “Are you serious?”

  “Her personal record is three,” Mickey interjected. “Three hours and fifteen minutes. It was during one of the hurricanes.”

  “Oh, brilliant.” Raven glanced crossly at her wristwatch. “We don’t have three hours to kill.”

  The director said, “Yeah, let’s bag it.”

  “No, keep rolling!” It was Derek, now tangled in the lily pad
s. “Keep rolling!”

  Wahoo’s father murmured, “What a jackass,” and headed for the house.

  “Where are you going?” Raven asked.

  “To get some aspirin.”

  “Bring the whole bottle,” she said.

  Ten minutes passed, then fifteen more. Derek continued to flounder around the fake Everglades lagoon while Alice remained out of sight.

  The man operating the remote control for the underwater camera said the battery was running low. “Want me to put in a new one?”

  “Don’t waste your time,” the director said. “This is hopeless. We’ll just use the first take.”

  Wahoo looked toward the house and wondered if his dad was all right. He would have gone to check on him, but he didn’t want to leave as long as Alice was alone in the water with Derek…

  Five, ten, fifteen more minutes dragged by. Finally the director said to Raven, “That’s enough. Get him out.”

  Derek angrily waved them off. “No way! I’ll stay here all night if I have to-”

  “Hey!” It was the guy in charge of the underwater camera. “Look at this.”

  They gathered closely around the video monitor-the director, the cameraman, Raven and Wahoo. Slowly but surely, Alice was rising from the bottom of the pool. Her great fluted tail fanned the water gently, stirring a haze of greenish mud.

  On the way up, the alligator paused with her blunt nose only inches from the camera’s lens. Even with her mouth shut, the lethal downward teeth were on full display, a crooked picket fence along her upper jaw.

  “Wow,” said the director. “Check out those pearlies.”

  “She definitely needs an orthodontist,” joked the cameraman.

  From the pool, Derek shouted, “What’re you looking at?”

  Suddenly the picture went black. The underwater camera’s battery was dead.

  “Where’d she go?” Raven asked anxiously.

  The director stroked his scraggly beard. “This is not ideal.”

  Wahoo stepped to the edge of the pond and called to Derek. “She’s coming up!”

  “Well, it’s about bloody time,” he said.

  “Don’t move!”

  “Ha! Are we still rolling, mates?”

  During their 150 million years of existence, alligators have survived global upheavals that wiped out thousands of other species-volcanic eruptions, raging floods, sizzling droughts, melting glaciers and crashing meteorites. After all the other great dinosaurs vanished from earth, the hardy gator remained.

  The most serious threat to emerge was man, who in the twentieth century began killing the reptiles for their hides, which were used to make expensive purses, belts and shoes. By the 1960s, alligators had been slaughtered to the brink of extinction throughout the southeastern United States, their main habitat. Eventually the government stepped in and halted gator hunting until the species bounced back, which didn’t take long.

  Nothing in nature is tougher.

  Contrary to media hype, wild alligators are born with the instinct to avoid people and will usually stay away if given a choice. However, gators that become accustomed to a human presence soon lose all fear, which creates serious problems for both species.

  It was impossible for Wahoo to know what was going on in Alice’s prehistoric brainpan as she rose to the surface of the pool. But compared with all the epic disasters that her ancestors had endured, a flabby fake Australian probably wouldn’t have been viewed as a serious threat. On the other hand, she had never before encountered a human so foolhardy.

  Whether Alice failed to see Derek Badger because he was in the lily pads, or whether he purposely positioned himself to intercept her, the result was the same. Somehow he wound up straddling her back, like a tipsy cowboy on a bronco.

  “Wooo-hooo!” he hollered idiotically.

  All Raven Stark could say was: “Oh Lord.”

  Wahoo was astounded that Alice was holding still. Apparently she was trying to figure out what exactly was on top of her, and if there was any room left in her tummy for dessert. Young egrets and herons sometimes mistook alligators for logs and perched on them, only to be gobbled in a blur.

  “Get off!” Wahoo yelled.

  Derek hooted back.

  The director sternly motioned for Wahoo to be quiet. He didn’t want any voices other than Derek’s on the audio loop of the scene.

  Time slowed to a crawl. Wahoo knew that Alice wouldn’t tolerate such nonsense for long. He was alarmed to see Derek lie down lengthwise along the gator’s spine and try to wrap his arms around her, locking his fingers into the rubbery ridges of her hide. It was a pose that lasted for approximately one second.

  Members of the Crocodilia order of reptiles don’t buck like horses do when shedding an unwanted rider. Instead, they thrash and spin. Derek managed to hang on for three full revolutions before being launched airborne. Alice was still twirling violently when he splashed down for a landing. Wahoo feared he would be killed.

  Both ends of an alligator possess lethal power-the jaws can crush a person like a grape, while a swift blow from the heavy tail can smash every important bone in the human body. Derek happened to reenter the pond at the biting end of Alice, and through pure misfortune his khaki shorts became snagged on two of her eighty teeth. This connection caused him to begin rotating in unison with the spinning reptile, creating a frothy turmoil on the water.

  Raven Stark screamed for help, but none of the crew knew what to do. Jumping in the pool to help Derek seemed like a sure way to get mangled or drowned. Wahoo snatched the bamboo pole from the cattails and thrust it outward in the hope Derek might be able to grab on, but Derek was too dizzy and confused.

  Wahoo gave up and tossed the pole aside. Jabbing it at Alice would have accomplished nothing but to agitate her even more-the unhappy gator wanted only to be rid of her pesky human leech.

  “Shoot that thing!” Raven shrieked, and Wahoo realized she was addressing his father, who’d reappeared at the scene.

  “Shoot it! Shoot it!” she begged.

  Mickey Cray removed the. 45 from his belt and handed it to his son. Then he calmly kicked off his shoes and dove into the water, where he grabbed a fistful of oily, orange-tinted hair as Derek Badger bubbled past.

  The director ordered the cameramen to keep the video rolling. Wahoo’s heart was pounding in his eardrums. He was so riveted on the chaos in the pool that he didn’t see Raven approach him from the side and lunge for the gun. She plucked it from his hand and aimed the barrel at the portion of the turbulence that looked more reptile than human.

  “No, don’t!” Wahoo cried, yet she pulled the trigger anyway.

  Click. Click. Click.

  Raven gaped in disbelief at the pistol. It was empty, of course. Wahoo’s father hadn’t loaded a single bullet.

  “This is madness,” said Raven, trembling.

  She looked back at the pond. Alice had vanished again, but there stood Mickey in the shallows, Derek spluttering in his grasp. Derek’s knees were skinned, his mouth was bleeding and his khakis had been torn off, but otherwise the famous survivalist seemed to have survived the crazy gator ride without serious injury. Wahoo was amazed.

  His dad waded from the pool and deposited Derek in a dripping heap on the ground. “Here’s your so-called star,” he said to the director. “Now pack your gear and get off my property.”

  Then he grabbed the gun away from Raven and walked back toward the house. Wahoo hurried to catch up. He didn’t say a word. Nothing upset his father more than the mistreatment of an animal.

  When they reached the porch, Mickey said, “I guess we’re not gettin’ the rest of the money.”

  “That’s okay, Pop.” Wahoo’s heart was still racing. It had been a close call-too close.

  “That moron’s lucky all he lost was his pants.”

  “We’re lucky, too,” said Wahoo.

  Mickey peeled off his wet clothes and hung them over a chair. “Bring me the phone,” he said. “And I don’t care
what bleeping time it is in China.”

  EIGHT

  The crew carried Derek Badger to his motor coach, dried him off, bundled him in a fuzzy Expedition Survival! bathrobe and put him in bed.

  Raven Stark stayed to fuss over him. “I thought we’d lost you this time,” she said.

  “Where’s my green tea?” he asked irritably.

  The director popped in. He said the trucks were being loaded to go.

  Derek displayed the raw scrapes on his knees and a scabby lip. “This is all your fault.”

  The director thought: I’m not the clown who climbed on the alligator’s back.

  Raven said, “The most important thing is that nobody got seriously hurt.”

  “No, the most important thing is my show,” Derek snapped.

  He was trying to sound tough, but it was just an act. The tussle with the reptile had frightened him. He’d truly thought he was going to drown, or be devoured. Over the years there had been other mishaps while staging wildlife encounters, yet nothing as harrowing as his encounter with the swamp beast called Alice.

  “By the way,” Derek said to the director, “consider yourself fired.”

  “I brought something to show you.”

  “A letter of resignation, perhaps?”

  The director held up a disk. “The pond scene,” he said.

  “Destroy it immediately!”

  “Not so fast,” the director said.

  Derek glowered. “Are you threatening to blackmail me?” He looked over at Raven and snapped, “You’re my witness. Obviously he wants a payoff.”

  “Just chill out,” the director said. He inserted the disk into a DVD player that was mounted under a high-def TV.

  Derek motioned for Raven to fluff his pillows. He said, “Let him have his fun and be on his way.”

  Raven sat on the edge of the bed to watch the scene. She was prepared to be depressed. Her boss, the executive producer of Expedition Survival! would be furious to learn that the Everglades episode was being scrapped. It cost big money whenever something like this happened, because the director and crew still had to be paid.

  On one memorable occasion, Derek had leaped from a baobab tree in Madagascar and sprained both ankles. The script hadn’t called for him to jump; a baby gecko had scurried up his shorts and frightened him.