Chomp (7 page)

“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.”

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.

On another set, in Mexico, Derek had clumsily tripped over a tortoise and sprawled into a yucca plant. His face had
swollen up like a puffer fish. For two weeks afterward, he had worn a veil and refused to go out in public.

While shooting a program in Australia—a very expensive trip—Derek had ignored the local wrangler’s warnings and tried to tackle a wallaby, which he’d hoped to fry up as one of his televised campfire dinners. The result: five broken ribs, a torn Achilles tendon, sixteen stitches in his scalp and five days in the hospital.

In each instance, filming had to be canceled and the expenses settled. Raven knew that if
Expedition Survival!
hadn’t been such a smash hit, Derek would have been booted off the show a long time ago.

“Let’s get this over with,” she said to the director.

He pressed the Play button on the DVD console. Thirty-three seconds later, he turned it off.

Raven took a heavy breath. Derek sat bolt upright and goggle-eyed.

“Well?” the director said.

“That … was … bloody … 
brilliant
!” Derek punched the air jubilantly with both fists. “I almost died, didn’t I? That vicious monster almost killed me!”

Witnessing the scene all over again, even on a video disk, had left Raven a bit shaken.

The director said, “Do you still want me to destroy it?”

Derek roared. “Destroy it? Are you crazy, mate? This stuff is killer. This is genius. Am I right, Raven? Is this not the
bomb
?”

“The bomb it is,” said Raven quietly.

“That crazy redneck—did you see what he did?”

“A total madman,” the director agreed.

Derek lowered his voice. “Can you edit him out of the scene?”

“No problem. Snip, snip.”

“Excellent!”

Raven said, “But he saved your life, Derek.”

“And he shall be compensated handsomely.”

With a hopeful smile, the director asked, “Does this mean I’m not fired?”

“Fired? Ha!” Derek bounded from the bed and threw an arm around the man’s neck. “You, my friend, just got yourself a big fat raise.”

As Wahoo and his father had predicted, Susan Cray knew exactly how much the family owed the bank for overdue mortgage payments: “Seven thousand nine hundred and twelve dollars and four cents.”

“Don’t forget, I just sent ’em eight hundred bucks,” Mickey said.

“Yes, honey, I already subtracted that.”

“Oh.”

“We’re also two months behind on your truck,” she said.

“You sure about that?”

“May I speak to Wahoo?”

“He’s right here.” Mickey handed the phone to his son.

“Sorry we woke you, Mom.”

“How’s the job going?”

“Not so great.”

“What happened?”

“Long story,” Wahoo said. Too long for an expensive overseas phone call. “How’s China?”

“I’m homesick, big guy. Is your dad feeling okay? Tell the truth.”

“Some days are better than others.”

Susan Cray sighed. “He’s as stubborn as a darn mule. You keep an eye on him.”

“I’m trying,” Wahoo said.

Somebody knocked on the door and Mickey went to open it.

“Let me talk to him again,” said Wahoo’s mother.

“He’ll call you back, Mom—when it’s daytime over there, I promise.”

Derek Badger and Raven Stark were standing in the living room. Wahoo said goodbye to his mother and set down the phone. Then he told his father to put away the fire extinguisher.

“I’m serious, Pop.”

“But they’re supposed to be gone!”

Raven said, “We need to chat, Mr. Cray. Please?”

“I don’t ‘chat.’ ” He pulled the trigger on the fire extinguisher, blasting a cloud of white vapor toward the ceiling. “Now get out!”

“Knock it off,” said Wahoo.

Derek puffed his chest. “Mate, there’s no need to be cranky. We come in peace.”

It was hard to take the man seriously because he was dressed in a purple bathrobe and matching slippers. Mickey placed the fire extinguisher on the kitchen counter. Wahoo suggested that everybody sit down, which they did.

Raven said, “Derek’s got something he wants to say.”

“Imagine that.” Mickey was rubbing his temples.

Derek leaned forward. “That wrestling scene with the alligator—”

“Alice is her name.”

“Yes, Alice. The scene turned out fabulously, Mr. Cray. Perhaps the most extraordinary thirty-three seconds of footage in the history of
Expedition Survival!
”

“But you almost got drowned.”

“Exactly! And the best part is it was
real
.”

“You’re seriously gonna use that in your show?” Mickey asked, and right away Wahoo knew what his father was thinking.

“Of course we intend to use it,” Raven said.

“It’ll be all over YouTube the same night,” Derek added. “Trust me—we’re talking worldwide viral. Millions of hits!”

Mickey’s eyes narrowed. “That means you’re gonna pay us the rest of the money, right?”

Derek chuckled. “Not only are we going to pay you all of it, we’re hiring you to lead us into the Everglades to put the
finishing touches on this masterpiece. What do you think of that?”

Wahoo felt slightly queasy.

“What do you need
me
for?” his father said to Derek. “You’re gonna fake the rest of it, same as you always do.”

Derek didn’t seem even slightly insulted. He twirled the sash on his robe and said, “You’re the most fearless man I’ve ever met, Mr. Cray. With you guiding us on location, we won’t need to ‘fake’ anything.”