Gator on the Loose! (3 page)

Daddy grabbed the tarp and took it over by the fiberglass alligator. He tossed the tarp over it and tucked all the loose ends under. Keisha wondered if such a place would look warm and safe—like a hole on the riverbank—to a little alligator.

Grandma let her net drop to her side and put her hand on her hip. Keeping close to the fence, Daddy walked around and whispered a few things into her ear. Grandma whispered back and disappeared into Mr. Ramsey’s office.

The next thing Keisha knew, Justin was taking the spine board off the wall and he and Mr. Ramsey were carrying it through the pool office.

Razi tugged on Keisha’s arm. In all the excitement, she’d forgotten about her little brother.

“What are they doing now, Key?”

“I’m not sure. Let’s watch.”

Razi grabbed hold of the fence and started reciting one of their hand-clapping rhymes: “In came the doctor, in came the nurse, in came the lady with the alligator purse.”

“Razi, not so loud. We want the alligator to come back by us. Shhh … look.”

Justin and Mr. Ramsey trotted past them, just inside
the fence, with the spine board. Mr. Ramsey couldn’t stop looking over his shoulder for the alligator.

“Where are you going?” Razi asked, and took off after them. “Can I come? Can I ride on that?”

The fence by the deep end was only about fifteen feet from the pool. Justin and Mr. Ramsey stopped there. It looked like they were waiting for Daddy’s signal. Keisha watched as Daddy walked slowly back to the fiberglass alligator in the shallow end. As soon as he took his place, he waved at Justin and Mr. Ramsey. They began heaving and ho-ing, and that’s when Keisha knew what had been decided at the CFC. On the count of three, the spine board sailed through the air. Nothing makes a small alligator get out of the water faster than what he thinks is a big one, because it is a little-known fact that alligators eat each other! If you didn’t know any better and you were a small, scared alligator, you might think the spine board was a very big alligator.

When it landed on the pool surface, that little alligator dove down so fast it was hard to keep track of him.

“Where is the little bugger?” Grandma had put on her sun visor and was scanning the surface of the pool.

Keisha had better eyes. She saw him scuttle out of the water and dive under the folds of the canvas tarp.
Daddy did, too. Quick as a flash, he was there, stepping on the open end with his big waders.

Mr. Ramsey called out, “Need any help over there?”

Grandma was power-walking over to where Daddy was busy making sure there were no avenues for escape.

“I think we’ve got it covered,” she said.

“There
is
something you can do,” Daddy called back to Mr. Ramsey. “Will you get the dog crate from the back of the truck and maybe a hamburger patty from the snack bar?”

“Sure, but it’s frozen.”

“Never mind, then. This little guy is cold enough as it is.”

Grandma stood over the tarp with her hands on her hips. “I was hoping this wouldn’t take all day. I don’t know about you-all, but I’ve got work to do.”

“On Saturday?”

“I’m designing my own jeans. Mid-rise, boot cut … generous, kind to the silhouette. I’m thinking YSL.”

“Yves Saint Laurent?” Keisha had been around Grandma long enough to know some of the fashion designers she liked.

“No, no. Mid-rise, boot cut … it all adds up to Youthful Senior Legs.”

Mrs. Carter grew up on a ranch in Nigeria. Nigeria is on the western coast of Africa right near the equator. Half the year, it is dusty and hot. Half the year, it is rainy and hot. In Nigeria, there are tropical rain forests and deserts and almost everything in between. Mama grew up near the Jos Plateau, in a vast grassy area called a savanna.

During the dusty times, Mama often had to sweep twice a day. She had always liked things tidy, even now in Michigan, where half the year the dust was frozen! Mama also liked to keep the animals out of the house. She knew that there were times when you had to bring the animals in, such as when they were babies or very sick. But she reminded her children many, many times that the goats and sheep they raised in Nigeria were kept in pens on the other side of the courtyard from the house.

For all these reasons—lots of animals, enough dirt already—Mama was not interested in any CFPs. “CFP”
stood for “Carter family pet.” The only person in the Carter family who used this abbreviation was Keisha. It used to be when she went to her friends’ houses and saw their puppies(!), their kittens(!), their gerbils(!) she would ask Mama if she would think about changing her no-pets rule. But Mama knew what Mama knew, and Keisha’s mama did not want one more animal in the house.

That was why when Mama carried baby Paulo into the house, all the other Carters sat quietly in the kitchen, picking at their peanut butter and banana sandwiches. No one knew how to tell Mama about the alligator upstairs in the bathtub, with Grandma outside the bathroom door reading her
Harper’s Bazaar
magazine for denim inspiration.

Grandma wasn’t guarding the door because the Carters thought the alligator would open it. She was guarding the door because, as with everything else in the very old house, it was hard to make it stay shut on its own. In all the excitement of bringing home their first alligator, no one could find the big skeleton key that locked that door.

“One sticky baby,” Mama said, giving Daddy first a kiss and then the baby. Paulo liked to dangle. Daddy just let him hang there in the air, a smile on his adorable face. He was chewing on a Popsicle stick, and Popsicle juice was all over his hands and down the front of his jumpsuit.

“Where’s Grandma Alice?” Mama asked, setting down a string bag full of vegetables from the farmers’ market. “Keisha, when you are finished with your sandwich, I want you to go up and run the bathwater so Daddy can give the baby a bath.”

Keisha and Daddy and Razi looked at each other and then back down at their plates.

“Look at these greens,” Mama said, holding up a bunch of spinach so the children could admire it. “After I rinse them, they’re going in the pepper soup.”

Most people didn’t make soup in the summer, but Mama had a pot bubbling all year long. She especially liked to make red pepper soup out of tomatoes and peppers and chicken broth. Then she added whatever meat and vegetables she had around.

In Nigeria, guests expect to be fed when they stop by, and it is considered rude if you don’t have enough
food to offer them. Mama made food for her family as well as food for anyone who liked to drop in. The postman, Mr. Sanders, loved Mama’s pepper soup. He said it was the only thing that cleared his sinuses. Mama’s soups were spicy. That was how she’d learned to make them. A lot of Keisha’s friends said “No thank you” when Mama offered them soup.

“Razi, what are you doing with your lips?” Mama asked in her and-don’t-pretend-you-don’t-know-what-I’m-talking-about voice. Razi was pinching his lips together. Keisha knew exactly what Razi was doing. He was trying to keep the secret in.

“Don’t forget to breathe, son,” Daddy whispered.

Razi took in a big, noisy breath through his nose.

“There’s something wrong here,” Mama said, her hands on her hips. “What is caught inside your mouth, Razi? Tell me now.”

“But, Mama, you’re the one who says the mouth should not relate everything the eye sees,” Keisha reminded her mother.

“Yes, but that does not include keeping secrets from Mama.”

“Well …” Keisha looked at her dad. There wasn’t much hope of keeping it hidden.

“There’s an alligator in the bathtub,” Razi blurted
out, panting hard. He had forgotten to breathe. “Want to see it?”

“There’s an alligator in
my
bathtub?” Mama repeated, taking baby Paulo back and cradling him in her arms. She must have been in shock because Paulo put his sticky fingers all over her necklace and she didn’t even notice.

“It’s Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile, only it’s an alligator and it doesn’t talk, but it has goggly eyes that can see behind its head!”

Keisha sighed. When Razi tried to keep a secret, it was like putting a kink in the hose. Once you undid the kink, the water spurted everywhere.

“Now we need Hector P. Valenti to come and take him back to the circus,” said Razi. “When I grow up, I want a mustache like Hector P. Valenti!”

“Hector P. Valenti?” Mama turned to Keisha and raised one of her eyebrows, just a bit, which usually meant
Child, you are getting on my last nerve!

“We heard a story about a crocodile named Lyle at story time yesterday,” Keisha said. “In the story, he lived with a family, but his real owner worked in the circus.”

“His mustache was this long.” Razi flung out his arms. “And stiff. Daddy said you could hang an umbrella on it.”

Now it was Daddy’s turn to get Mama’s high-eyebrow look. Everyone knew where Razi got his talent for exaggerating. “Not a beach umbrella,” Daddy said. “More like a parasol. Anyway, Mr. Valenti’s mustache is not the point here. We’re not set up for large reptiles out back, Fay, and we had to get the chlorine off him.”

Mama pulled out a kitchen chair and sat down. The baby was in her lap, and the greens were in his. Paulo squished the spinach with his little fingers and smiled.

“You were going to the city pool,” Mama said, trying to piece it together.

“That’s where we got him!” Razi told his mom. “Grandma yelled him into the deep end and then the spy board scared him into a big bag.”

“Spine board, Razi.” Keisha turned to Mama. “It needs to get a little warmer before he can be outside. We could make a little shelter. Just until we can figure out what to do with him.”

“I wanted to run through the sprinkler with him, but Daddy said that would make some chaos,” Razi informed his mother.

“I said ‘cause chaos,’ buddy. Can you imagine what the neighbors would think of us if we put the alligator in a purple polka-dot bikini and let it run through the sprinkler out back?”

Whenever Mama looked like she was going to get mad, Daddy tried to jolly her out of it by saying something funny. The fact that Mama was not smiling now was a sign that an alligator in her bathtub made her very unhappy. She stood up again, holding Paulo close on her hip. She went to the stove and turned the gas on low under her soup. Setting a bowl in the sink, Mama pulled the bunch of greens from the baby’s hands and dropped them in. She let Paulo dangle over the sink and swish his hands in the water to rinse off the sand and grit.

“Can this really be the same bathtub, Fred, that just got the new enamel? What will alligator toenails do to my new enamel?”

“We put a wet beach towel underneath him. I’m hoping that will protect it.”

Mama handed the baby to Keisha and tossed the rinsed spinach into the pot. Then she picked up the bowl of rinse water, carried it to the back door and poured the water over the roses that grew by the step.

“So tell me,” Mama said when she had dried out the bowl and put it back in the cupboard. “How big is this alligator that is not in my tub?”

“Not too big,” Keisha told her mom. “Maybe three loaves of bread and a tail?”