Gator on the Loose!

by Sue Stauffacher

  “Gracious heavens,” Mama said when they reached Keisha. “What is my new laundry basket doing in all this dirt?”

  Daddy squatted down. “Well, I see one dirty alligator underneath it, ready for a bath.”

  “Why do they keep playing that same song on the radio?” Grandma wanted to know. “Frankly, I’m sick of it.”

  “It’s not the radio, Grandma,” Keisha said as the last strains of “Possums in Love” died away. “It’s the cereal toy Mr. Sanders gave Razi. You pull on a string and then it plays until the string goes back inside. Baby Paulo threw it out the window, and the way the music kept moving around, I was afraid the alligator had swallowed it.”

  Keisha leaned over and looked through the plastic slots of the laundry basket. The little alligator was moving its head back and forth as if it were saying to Keisha, No music toy in here.

  “Keisha, my girl,” Mama said, “you need to come away from that alligator. Even baby alligators can bite off fingers and toes.”

  Keisha peered through the slots once again. The alligator was still shaking its head. She just had to solve this mystery.

  “The music doesn’t play for very long and then you have to pull the string again. But if he’d swallowd it, the alligator couldn’t have been pulling the string. So how did the music keep playing? And why has it stopped now?”

  “I missed a chapter,” Grandma said. “But if you have the alligator, then I suggest we rummage through the cupboards and find something for dinner. I’m starving.”

  Grandma was always starving.

  “Maybe we could make s’mores tonight,” she suggested. “In honor of the Great Alligator Hunt.”

  Grandma was always thinking of excuses to make s’mores, her favorite dessert. But Keisha was not going to be distracted—even by the promise of s’mores. This was a puzzle and she was trying to put the pieces together. The music stopped when they dropped the basket. Was that a coincidence, or …

  Of course. That was it! When an alligator moves, most of it goes on the ground. Some part of the alligator must have gotten stuck on some part of the music player—maybe the little ring used to pull the string—and dragged it along.

  “Mama, Daddy, that music player is in here somewhere. Some part of it is stuck on some part of our alligator.”

  “Stuck on the alligator,” Mama corrected Keisha. “This is not our alligator, Key.” Mama pulled up her skirt so she could kneel on the grass and look in herself.

  “Fred,” Mama said after squinting at the alligator for a long time, “do you know what this child is talking about?”

  Daddy squatted down next to Mama. “No, Fay, I don’t. But like most things, the answers will be revealed in the bath.”

  “The bathtub with the new ena—”

  “I want to see the alligator. Please!” Freed from the sheets, Razi had picked up speed coming down the stairs and out the back door.

  He was about to launch himself onto the laundry basket when Daddy snatched him up. “Whoa, buddy.”

  The Z-Team followed close behind, panting.

  “He’s slippery,” Zeke said, tucking his shirt back into his pants.

  “Squirmy’s more like it,” added Zack.

  “Move back, guys,” Daddy said, drawing the boys away from the laundry basket.

  “If we get down on our knees and crawl over slowly, can we look at it?”

  “What is sticking out of that basket?” Grandma asked.

  “Our Wild 4-Ever belts,” Zeke and Zack said in one voice.

  Zack was bent double, peering into the basket. “If you’re gonna eat one of those belts, Ally, could you eat the one by your tail? That’s my brother’s.”

  “Nobody’s going to eat anything…. Well …” Daddy rubbed his tummy. Like Grandma, he was always hungry. “Not any Wild 4-Ever belts, anyway. All the boys need to go back in the house. This alligator has had enough excitement for one day without a bunch of strangers staring at him.”

  Keisha watched Daddy pass a squirming Razi over to the Sanders twins.

  “I’m thinking maybe the dog crate and then back into the bathtub,” Daddy said, glancing over at Mama.

  Mama frowned, thinking. “What we need for this alligator is a wallow.”

  Razi stopped squirming. “What’s a wallow?” he asked. “Do I want one?”

  “Yes,” Keisha sighed. “You do, but you’re not going to get one. In the wild, alligators make wallows all by themselves. They roll around until there’s … Well, it’s like a hole and then it fills with water.”

  “And then?”

  “And then it keeps the alligator moist. And then …,” she continued, remembering, “other animals and insects use it, too, even when the alligator moves on, so wallows are an important part of the marshland.”

  Razi couldn’t help it. He had to keep going. “And then the alligators give their wallow to the insects and then everybody has a going-away party and then the alligators cry and pack their suitcases and then they get on the wrong bus and go to Michigan and then they end up in the city pool and then—”

  Razi managed to distract Zeke and Zack enough with his story to squiggle free.

  “He’s breached security!” Zack shouted as Razi tried to get away. But Daddy was ready. He turned Razi upside down, held him by the ankles and blew raspberries on his tummy.

  “I wish I had some of his energy,” Grandma said. “I need a protein bar.”

  Mama sighed. “Back in my bathtub with the new enamel.”

  “Let’s buy a wallow, Daddy,” Razi said between giggles. “I like that word ‘wallow.’ Wallowwallowwallowwallow—”

  Daddy paused from blowing raspberries on Razi’s stomach. “You can’t buy a wallow like you can a wading pool, Razi. It’s like Keisha said. Alligators make their own.”

  “This alligator needs to be in the zoo,” Grandma said. “Whoever heard of an alligator in a bathtub?”

  “There’s an alligator in the house on East Eighty-eighth Street,” Razi said between giggles.

  “That was a crocodile, Razi,” Keisha reminded her brother. “And the zoo offices don’t open until Tuesday, Grandma.”

  “Well,” Grandma said, curling some stray hairs back behind her ear. “I think we should bring back the no-reptiles-allowed rule.”

  There had never been a no-reptiles-allowed rule at Carters’ Urban Rescue, but Grandma had voted for one at family meetings when she’d been bitten on the knuckle by a box turtle.

  “Maybe we should get him a wading pool, Mama,” Keisha suggested.

  “I don’t think so.” Mama made the tsking sound with her tongue that meant something wasn’t right with the world. “The poor thing wouldn’t get any peace. Every child in the neighborhood and most of the grown-ups would want to see it.

  “No, no,” she continued. “This is not an exhibit. I am afraid the little one goes back into the bathtub. Daddy will put an old piece of carpet in the bottom so it can’t scratch my new enamel.”

  Mama took Razi from Daddy. He didn’t struggle so much in her arms. He put his head on her shoulder as she followed behind Grandma.

  “I want to see an alligator hole, Mommy.” Razi rubbed his forehead against Mama’s shoulder. “I want to see a wallowwallowwallow.”

  Daddy pulled the hose over to where Keisha sat on the basket. He placed the hose on the ground nearby so the water could seep in. He turned on the nozzle just a trickle. “It’s a good thing this hose has been sitting in the sun. The water will be nice and warm.”

  Keisha felt a shift underneath the basket.

  “Why don’t you lie down on your tummy,” Daddy suggested. “Then you can see him. He can’t hurt you under the basket. I think he’s just trying to get comfortable.

  “Now tell me about how you found this alligator.” Daddy started to lie down on his stomach, too, to get a better view. He was sure to get wet that way, but Daddy didn’t care about those things.

  “What’s this?” He reached out and pulled the little music
player from underneath the edge of the basket.

  “That’s it!” Keisha took the music player from her father. It was cracked down the middle.

  “This is what I think,” Keisha said, trying to remember. “When baby Paulo threw the toy out the window, it landed under the bushes. The alligator saw the shiny ring and bit at it … or maybe it got stuck on one of the parts of him that drag on the ground—”

  Keisha stopped for a minute and put her hands over her eyes. She was trying to picture it. “When I heard the music from a different spot, I was worried that the alligator had swallowed the whole toy. I was afraid he would choke, but then I realized the music was too loud to be inside an alligator. The only explanation was that the little alligator was somehow pulling the string. If the ring was around his tooth or his toenail, then he would keep dragging the toy and pulling the string and the music would play. Right?”

  Daddy looked up at the window. His eyes followed the path along the house that the alligator had taken. Then he looked up at the window again.

  “You must have broken it when you jumped on the basket,” Daddy said, examining the cracked toy and the frayed string.

  He added, “Even if he ate the plastic ring and the string, I don’t think that would be too much of a danger. Alligators eat all sorts of things. Still, I’d better get him out of here and into the dog crate and see if I can find the rest of the string. When the zoo offices open on Tuesday, we’ll take him in to Mr. Malone, who handles all the reptiles there. He’ll give the little guy a checkup.”

  “Can he stay here for just a minute?” Keisha was watching the alligator push his snout into the dirt. Could he smell the water seeping up through the ground? “He deserves a little rest and relaxation.”

  “Well, one more minute wouldn’t hurt.” Daddy patted Keisha’s back. Then he smiled. “After we give this alligator a bath, Miss Keisha, would you like to play a game of Mousetrap?”

  Chapter Eight

  Keisha wasn’t sure why keys were so big in the old days, but the good part was that big keys made big keyholes in old houses, and big keyholes meant that you could let your two best friends look into the bathroom at an alligator without breaking your promise to not let your friends into the bathroom to look at an alligator.

  “He’s not that big,” Aaliyah said. Aaliyah was the tallest of the three of them, with broad shoulders, deep brown eyes and always the newest and prettiest hairstyles because her grandma braided hair for just about everyone in Alger Heights.

  “But you are,” Wen said. She was hopping up and down, trying to see over Aaliyah’s shoulder. Wen was the shortest of the three. She had the shortest hair, too, and always the highest kneesocks during the school year. Wen went third in double Dutch practice because when your arms are tired, you want someone small to swing the ropes for. Plus, Wen was graceful. She almost never messed up on motions.

  Razi burst into the hall and pushed both girls aside. “Let me see.”

  “Razi! You’ve already seen the alligator. At the pool. These are our guests.”

  “Did not.” Razi stuck out his bottom lip and pressed his face to the door. “He was moving too fast. I want to see him standing still.” Razi pulled away from the keyhole. “Now he’s asleep. That’s boring.”

  “I don’t think he’s asleep,” Keisha said, forgetting about the guests herself and pressing her face to the door. “I think he’s still frozen with fear. Imagine all the places this poor alligator has been today. He’d be so much happier tucked into a muddy wallow, up to his snout in mud.”

  “Wait … don’t tell me….” Aaliyah stood still, remembering. “A wallow …”

  “Let me say. Let me say it!” Razi’s voice rose in excitement.

  Keisha clapped her hand over his mouth. “You’re going to scare the poor thing to death,” she said.

  Razi broke away and ran down the stairs. “I’m gonna tell Mama. You almost stuffocated me!”

  While all this was going on, Wen was examining the alligator through the keyhole. “He is small,” she said. “Maybe he’s a Chinese alligator.”

  “I didn’t know there were alligators in China,” Keisha said. Secretly, she thought she knew everything there was to know about alligators. But this was news to her. “How can you tell?” Keisha asked Wen.

  Wen shrugged.

  “Speak Chinese to him … duh.” Aaliyah turned to face the girls, flipping her braids so that they clicked like a bunch of chopsticks falling into a bowl.

  “What should I say?” Wen wanted to know.

  “Sing something,” Keisha said. “A lullaby. That lullaby you sing in Chinese is so pretty.”

  Wen’s grandmother, Nei-Nei, was always singing to her. Keisha loved to listen.

  “Okay. I will sing ‘Rock-a-bye, rock-a-bye, sleep now, you’re safe with me,’” Wen decided. “Yao-yao-yao, yao-yao-yao, xiao bao bao, kuai shui jiao….”

  Wen’s voice was very soft and high when she sang. It sounded to Keisha like the wind when it goes through the tops of the trees in Riverside Park.

  “Nope,” Aaliyah said, keeping watch as Wen finished her song. “He didn’t even wave his tail, but I do hear something….” She pulled her head away from the door and turned to listen. “You must have left the hose running,” she said. “I can hear it.”

  Everyone was quiet for a moment. When the water was on, you could often hear it rattling through the pipes of the old house. Keisha looked through the keyhole. She was sure Daddy had turned off the tap before he went downstairs. Still, water was running somewhere.

  Keisha went into her bedroom so she could see down to the backyard where they’d left the hose. From the window, she saw her brother lying down, rolling back and forth in the bare spot beneath the horse chestnut tree. Usually, that spot was filled with dirt, but now it was mud because the hose was on and water was spurting from the nozzle.

  Keisha pushed the window open. “Razi Carter! What are you doing? Mama’s gonna kill you!”

  “I’m making a wallow for the alligator,” Razi shouted back. He did not stop rolling.

  “Oh, Razi. When Mama sees this—” Keisha pulled her head back into the house. Mama would be mad at her for this. She was supposed to be watching Razi. How could a girl be expected to watch Razi and make sure an alligator didn’t escape from the bathroom at the same time?

  She pushed her head back out of the window. “You’re all muddy,” she yelled at Razi.

  “It’s how the alligators do it,” he yelled back. “You said.”

  Suddenly he sat up. “I got dirt in my eyes.” He began to rub and rub.

  “Don’t rub!” she called down to her brother. “I’ll be right there.”

  Keisha knew that if she didn’t rescue Razi from this situation, he would have not only the sting of dirt in his eyes but also a lecture that included several wise Nigerian sayings like “He who digs a pit for others is just as likely to fall into it himself.”

  She rushed back to Wen and Aaliyah, who had figured out a way they could both see through the keyhole at the same time by pressing their heads together.

  “He doesn’t look good,” Wen said. “Maybe he’s hungry.”

  “Mama and Daddy are out buying food,” Keisha told them. “But I’ve got another emergency. Will you two make sure this door stays closed?”

  Wen and Aaliyah locked arms. “We will,” Aaliyah said.

  When Keisha got outside, water was gushing from the hose—oooh, that would make Mama angry, too!—and Razi was still crying over the dirt in his eyes. He wasn’t making it any better, either, by rubbing his face with his dirty hands.

  “Razi. Hold still. I can’t help you if I can’t look at what is hurting.”

  Razi stopped for a moment and covered his eyes with the palms of his hands. Then he started in again. Keisha rolled up her pants and kneeled down next to Razi. She reached out for his hand.

  “You’re still rubbing it in.”

  “I know!” Razi said, pulling away from her and cryin
g some more.

  Keisha sat back. Every older sister had her limits. Wrestling with her brother in a muddy gator hole was not something Keisha Carter was willing to do.

  She’d have to figure out another way. Keisha stood up and ran over to the shed, where they kept the gardening tools. She rooted around in a pile of seed-starting trays and tulip-bulb food because she knew it was over here somewhere. Yes! The spray nozzle.

  Razi loved the spray nozzle. Mama didn’t let him play with water too much, but when she watered the vegetable patch, she let Razi stand with one foot on either side of the okra row holding an umbrella. That way, he could pretend it was raining and her plants still got watered.

  Keisha turned off the water, ran back to her brother and waved the spray nozzle. “Look what I’ve got!” She attached it to the end of the hose and turned the water back on, all to the tune of unhappy Razi’s crying.

  But when she pressed the handle and a fountain of soft rain began to fall on Razi’s head, he stopped rubbing his eyes and put his hand out to catch the rain.

  “Instead of being an alligator, you can be Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile,” Keisha said. “This is your first shower.”

  “I go in the shower with Daddy,” Razi said, tipping his head up to taste the rain. “When I’m six, I can go in by myself.”

  “When you’re six and you can hold the soap without dropping it … and when you can take all your clothes off by yourself.” She moved the nozzle so it was aimed at the back of Razi’s shirt.

  “I can take my clothes off by myself!”

  “Not when they’re wet you can’t.”

  “Can.”

  “Prove it. I dare you.”

  A dare was one of the few situations where Razi could focus his whole self, from his fingers to his toes. Razi loved to win a dare. Before you could say “Ollie Ollie Oxen Free,” he was down to his underwear and struggling to unlace his sneakers.

  Wen called out from the open window, “The baby’s crying. Should I get him up?”

  “Yes, but make Aaliyah promise to stay by the bathroom door.”

  “Okay. No Grandma sightings yet.”

  Keisha rinsed out Razi’s muddy clothes while her brother danced like a prizefighter around the horse chestnut tree. “He did it, ladies and gentlemen.” Razi thumped his chest. “He won the double dare!”