Read Online How to Outrun a Crocodile When Your Shoes Are Untied by Jess Keating - Free Book Online

She looked about six or so, and the heel of her shoes lit up with red lights with every hop.
    Where were her parents? After a few minutes of jumping and huffing, she turned to look at me expectantly. Something about wearing a uniform in a zoo made people think you wanted to help them.
    â€œI want to see him! He’s scary!” She grinned at me with no front teeth and pointed her tiny finger at Louie, who looked to be either disinterested or completely comatose.
    I forced my face into a smile. “Here, hop on,” I said as I walked over and lifted the little girl onto a log outside the perimeter fence, helping her get a grip on the top of the partition.
    â€œReally, he’s not so scary. He doesn’t eat people, even though lots of people think he could. Mostly sausage and fish. He can’t even chew his food.” I shrugged.
    The girl watched Louie with wide eyes, turning to face me in astonishment at the mention of Louie’s food. Then a mischievous smile crept onto her face.
    â€œCould I see it?” Her hands clapped together. I peered around. It wasn’t very busy in the pavilion. I could show her. Plus, I had nothing else to do around here other than mope.
    â€œOkay,” I said, kneeling down to her like I was sharing a secret, “but you have to be very careful and stay right here.” She nodded gravely, furrowing her brow. Kid looked like I’d asked her to guard the president.
    â€œWhat’s your name?” she asked while I was digging around behind some ferns for the small cooler with one of Louie’s food buckets Mike keeps for educational tours every few hours.
    â€œAna.” I hesitated. “I’m named after the biggest snake in the world.” It was the first time in my life that I’d said it out loud.
    The little girl’s mouth gaped open. “That’s so cool!” she squealed.
    Hah. If only the Sneerers could share that sentiment. Her excitement was like a jolt of Pepsi to my tired system.
    â€œI’m Beatrix. Mom says it’s ‘yoo-neek.’” Her nose scrunched up as she spoke. “But I think it’s crummy.” She hung her head, her small purple-rimmed glasses falling to the end of her nose. “People at school say it’s an old lady name.”
    Ouch.
    â€œI understand.” Boy, did I ever. “They’re probably just jealous.”
    I could tell by the look on her face that she didn’t buy it. I couldn’t blame her—I didn’t either when my mom said the same to me. A sudden outburst behind us made me jump.
    â€œMommy!” Beatrix jumped down from the log and raced over to a woman with wide eyes, rushing into the pavilion. She hunched over and grasped her daughter by the shoulders.
    â€œHere you are, sweetie! Don’t run off like that again! I told you to stay next to me.” She turned to me and reached out, clasping my hand with a frazzled look of apology. “Thank you so much for watching Bea.”
    â€œOh, no problem.” I smiled and looked back at Louie. “I was about to feed him if you’d like to stay and watch.”
    Beatrix was already begging her mom, tugging on her arm and pleading to stay. The woman looked at her watch and gave a quick nod. By the look of her snazzy clothes, she wasn’t the type to enjoy chunks of meat being fed to crocodiles. Probably more the caviar type.
    â€œDid you know that crocodiles can’t chew their food?” Beatrix chimed as I opened my bucket. I remembered to breathe through my mouth so I didn’t get overcome by the stench of meat and fished out a piece.
    â€œNow, watch.” I waved the meat at Louie from behind the fence. He approached the moat with a beady look in his eyes. Or maybe it was a normal look, seeing how crocodiles tend to look beady-eyed at the best of times. I tossed the meat straight to his head. I had to admit, my aim was perfect.
    Beatrix and her mother gasped as Louie