part of him wanted his dad to accept Derek’s offer, another part of him feared something bad would happen. The real Everglades was a very different place from the homemade marsh in the Crays’ backyard.
Feeling torn, he excused himself from the meeting and jogged down to see about Alice. She was still pouting; only her black nostrils showed on the surface of the pool. Wahoo sat down on a plastic milk crate and watched a baby leopard frog hop across the lily pads.
Soon a piece of pale, ragged cloth floated to the top of the water. Wahoo used the bamboo pole to retrieve it: Derek’s torn khaki shorts. Two large, hollow alligator incisors remained stuck in the fabric.
“You’ll grow new ones,” Wahoo said to Alice. Theaverage gator went through three thousand teeth in a lifetime of chomping.
“Yeah, she’ll be pretty as ever.” It was his father, who’d come up behind him. “And she knows it, too.”
“What did you tell ’em, Pop?”
“You mean the Dorkster?” Mickey Cray smiled. “He showed me the video. They put it on a disk.”
“Come on. Did you take the job or not?”
“They’re gonna cut me out of the gator scene. Make it look like an ‘escape’ instead of a rescue. One minute that knucklehead will be spinning like a propeller underwater, and next minute he’ll be lyin’ on the shore—as if he got free from Alice all by himself!” Mickey seemed more amused than upset. “You said it yourself: showbiz!”
“You told them yes, didn’t you?”
“Son, we seriously need the dough.”
Wahoo couldn’t argue with that. He said, “After what happened today, maybe Derek learned his lesson.”
“Sure. And maybe the raccoons will start their own lacrosse team.” Wahoo’s dad kicked the TV star’s shredded shorts into the cattails. “Now go fetch a chicken from the freezer. Let’s walk sweet old Alice back to her pen.”
“Two chickens, Pop. She earned it.”
NINE
That evening, they drove down to Florida City and stocked up at the Walmart: sodas, Gatorades, bug spray, sunblock, coffee, bacon, powdered eggs, granola bars, Pringles, frozen hot dogs, black beans, matches and first-aid supplies, including a bottle of five hundred aspirins for Mickey.
When they got to the register, Wahoo slipped ahead of his father and paid for the supplies with cash.
Mickey eyed him warily. “Where’d you get that money?”
“Robbed a bank,” Wahoo said. Actually his mother had left three hundred dollars inside an envelope in his sock drawer, for emergencies.
Mickey said, “Don’t be such a wise bleep.”
“Okay, I didn’t rob a bank. I won the lottery.”
“I’m warning you.”
“Here, grab a couple of these bags,” Wahoo said. He’d promised his mom he wouldn’t tell his dad about the cash in the drawer.
They were loading the provisions into the back of the pickup truck when Wahoo heard someone call, “Wait up!”
He turned around and saw Tuna Gordon, a girl from school. She had curly ginger hair and was small for her age, but she wasn’t shy. Wahoo didn’t know her well, althoughshe had caught his attention in biology class because she knew the Latin names of all the local snakes and lizards.
“I need a ride,” Tuna said. She wore a camo weather jacket, blue jeans and bright green flip-flops. Her canvas tote bag looked as if it weighed more than she did.
“This a friend of yours?” Mickey asked Wahoo.
“She’s in my biology class.”
“Algebra, too,” said Tuna.
Wahoo’s father was looking at the tote bag. “Which way are you headin’, hon?”
“Anywhere,” she said. “Wherever you guys are going.”
When she stepped closer, they saw she had a black eye.
“Who did that to you?” Mickey asked.
“I fell down the stairs.”
“Baloney.”
“Then never mind,” Tuna said, and turned to walk away.
“Hold on.” Wahoo motioned her to come back. He didn’t know what to say or how to act.
Who in the world would hit a girl?
he wondered.
His father asked
Feeling torn, he excused himself from the meeting and jogged down to see about Alice. She was still pouting; only her black nostrils showed on the surface of the pool. Wahoo sat down on a plastic milk crate and watched a baby leopard frog hop across the lily pads.
Soon a piece of pale, ragged cloth floated to the top of the water. Wahoo used the bamboo pole to retrieve it: Derek’s torn khaki shorts. Two large, hollow alligator incisors remained stuck in the fabric.
“You’ll grow new ones,” Wahoo said to Alice. Theaverage gator went through three thousand teeth in a lifetime of chomping.
“Yeah, she’ll be pretty as ever.” It was his father, who’d come up behind him. “And she knows it, too.”
“What did you tell ’em, Pop?”
“You mean the Dorkster?” Mickey Cray smiled. “He showed me the video. They put it on a disk.”
“Come on. Did you take the job or not?”
“They’re gonna cut me out of the gator scene. Make it look like an ‘escape’ instead of a rescue. One minute that knucklehead will be spinning like a propeller underwater, and next minute he’ll be lyin’ on the shore—as if he got free from Alice all by himself!” Mickey seemed more amused than upset. “You said it yourself: showbiz!”
“You told them yes, didn’t you?”
“Son, we seriously need the dough.”
Wahoo couldn’t argue with that. He said, “After what happened today, maybe Derek learned his lesson.”
“Sure. And maybe the raccoons will start their own lacrosse team.” Wahoo’s dad kicked the TV star’s shredded shorts into the cattails. “Now go fetch a chicken from the freezer. Let’s walk sweet old Alice back to her pen.”
“Two chickens, Pop. She earned it.”
NINE
That evening, they drove down to Florida City and stocked up at the Walmart: sodas, Gatorades, bug spray, sunblock, coffee, bacon, powdered eggs, granola bars, Pringles, frozen hot dogs, black beans, matches and first-aid supplies, including a bottle of five hundred aspirins for Mickey.
When they got to the register, Wahoo slipped ahead of his father and paid for the supplies with cash.
Mickey eyed him warily. “Where’d you get that money?”
“Robbed a bank,” Wahoo said. Actually his mother had left three hundred dollars inside an envelope in his sock drawer, for emergencies.
Mickey said, “Don’t be such a wise bleep.”
“Okay, I didn’t rob a bank. I won the lottery.”
“I’m warning you.”
“Here, grab a couple of these bags,” Wahoo said. He’d promised his mom he wouldn’t tell his dad about the cash in the drawer.
They were loading the provisions into the back of the pickup truck when Wahoo heard someone call, “Wait up!”
He turned around and saw Tuna Gordon, a girl from school. She had curly ginger hair and was small for her age, but she wasn’t shy. Wahoo didn’t know her well, althoughshe had caught his attention in biology class because she knew the Latin names of all the local snakes and lizards.
“I need a ride,” Tuna said. She wore a camo weather jacket, blue jeans and bright green flip-flops. Her canvas tote bag looked as if it weighed more than she did.
“This a friend of yours?” Mickey asked Wahoo.
“She’s in my biology class.”
“Algebra, too,” said Tuna.
Wahoo’s father was looking at the tote bag. “Which way are you headin’, hon?”
“Anywhere,” she said. “Wherever you guys are going.”
When she stepped closer, they saw she had a black eye.
“Who did that to you?” Mickey asked.
“I fell down the stairs.”
“Baloney.”
“Then never mind,” Tuna said, and turned to walk away.
“Hold on.” Wahoo motioned her to come back. He didn’t know what to say or how to act.
Who in the world would hit a girl?
he wondered.
His father asked
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