Gator on the Loose! Read online

  For my dear niece, Amara.

  Welcome to the wonders of reading!

  Chapter One

  The call came in at 10:40 a.m. on Saturday of Memorial Day weekend. Keisha was at the desk, Razi and Daddy were out back bottle-feeding the raccoon cubs and Mama had taken the baby with her to the farmers’ market. It was Grandma’s turn to be at the desk, but she had traded with Keisha so she wouldn’t miss her favorite show: How Not to Look Old.

  Keisha looked at the ringing phone. It might be someone calling for information. But if her parents had to go out on a call, that meant Grandma would take them to the Grand River city pool’s opening celebration. Grandma was not fun to be with at the pool. She made everyone wear big floppy hats, even in the shade. Plus, her swim cap had purple flowers on it, and instead of pinching her nose when she jumped in like everybody else, she wore a color-coordinated nose plug.

  Keisha checked the caller ID and was surprised to see that it was the city pool. She picked up.

  “You have reached Carters’ Urban Rescue,” she said in a deep voice. “Our office is now closed. If this is an emergency, please dial—”

  “Is that you, Keisha?” It was Mr. Ramsey, the pool manager.

  “Yes, sir,” Keisha said.

  “I need to talk to your mom or your dad.”

  “We’re going to be there in an hour,” Keisha said. “I’m working on my cannonball today.”

  “’Fraid not, honey. You know that big alligator the kids climb all over? The one that spouts water out of its nose?”

  “Mmmm-hmmm.” When Keisha was little, she spent a lot of time climbing on that alligator and sliding down its tail. But she could go on the diving board now, so she didn’t hang around in the kiddie area.

  “Well, it appears it had a baby.”

  “A baby? As in a baby alligator?”

  “That’s affirmative.”

  Keisha got out an intake form. At least it sounded interesting. She wrote Mr. Ramsey’s name at the top.

  “Tell me what happened, Mr. Ramsey.”

  “This morning when I came to open up, there was a real alligator lying in the pool below the fiberglass one.”

  “How big is it?”

  “Big enough to make me jump back over the fence. And I’ve got knee problems.”

  “That doesn’t tell me how big, Mr. Ramsey,” Keisha said in her calmest voice. “You have to talk in inches and feet.”

  Keisha knew a little something about alligators. She had written a report on them in Mr. Frost’s class last year. Then she watched a special on TV. She loved the way they bobbed in the water with only their eyes showing. She planned to try floating like an alligator herself this summer. If Mr. Ramsey could give her an idea of the size, she could probably tell how old it was.

  “Is it bigger than the spine board?” Keisha asked, referring to the board that hung on the wall by the locker rooms, the one they used if anyone had a bad accident at the pool.

  “No … no, not that big,” Mr. Ramsey said. “More like the rescue tube.”

  Keisha thought a minute. The rescue tube was about three feet long. That was no baby lying in the city pool.

  “Including the tail?”

  “I would say the tail is extra.”

  “What about its snout?” Keisha asked. “Round or pointy?”

  “Keisha. Do you really think I hung around long enough to take a look?”

  “Maybe it’s a crocodile,” Keisha said, thinking out loud. “They have a reputation for being crankier, and—”

  “Keisha! It probably doesn’t know whether it’s an alligator or a crocodile any more than I do. What I need to know is whether your mom or dad can catch it. I tried animal control, but everybody’s got the holiday weekend off!”

  “And the zoo isn’t answering, either, I bet.”

  “Not the office phones.”

  Keisha nodded. The zoo had to cut their hours a few years ago. This meant that on weekends and holidays, Carters’ Urban Rescue got a lot more calls.

  “I’ll tell my dad right now, Mr. Ramsey. He can be there in ten minutes.”

  “He can’t get here soon enough for me,” Mr. Ramsey said. “What am I supposed to tell my Little Minnows swim class? They were going to put on a synchronized swim show today.”

  “Better tell them not to get in the water.”

  “That’s very helpful, Keisha. Thank you. I hadn’t thought of that.”

  Keisha hung up the phone. When people were upset, they could also be sarcastic.

  “Holy Missoni,” Grandma said, making her way down the stairs. “My high-waisted jeans are strictly OL.”

  If you hung around Grandma long enough, you knew “OL” stood for “Old Lady.” Grandma said your age was just a number and she chose number 48. Anything that was OL was not for Grandma.

  “Grandma, there’s an alligator in the city pool. Mr. Ramsey just called to tell us.”

  Grandma put her hands on her hips and looked past Keisha, thinking. Keisha could see that Grandma was trying to make the leap from jeans to alligators.

  “Now, what would they want to do that for?” Grandma asked.

  “They didn’t do it, Grandma. It just happened.”

  “Do you mind explaining how?”

  Keisha shrugged. “Will you answer the phones while I go out back to tell Daddy?”

  “Maybe they’re adding on some sort of petting zoo.” Grandma sat in the chair at the desk. “We got so many more visitors at the Twi-Lite Motel when the animals started coming around.”

  Grandma grew up in the Upper Peninsula. During the summers, she and Grandpa Wally Pops helped her parents run the motel. It was deep in the woods, and they had salt feeders for the deer, peanuts on the deck for the chipmunks—all sorts of animals visited and the kids loved it. That is, until black bears started coming to the hot dog roasts and raccoons figured out how to get the lids off the garbage.

  As if Grandma was thinking what Keisha was thinking, she said, “I’m not so sure that’s a good idea. We had a couple run-ins up there at the Twi-Lite that would scare the pants off of you—even tight, high-waisted OL ones.”

  As soon as Grandma was settled in, Keisha slipped out the back door.

  She ran past the empty raptor cage and the squirrel enclosure before she got to the shed that housed the raccoon babies. Daddy was sterilizing the empty bottles, and Razi was using the special bottle rack that could feed six babies at one time, though at the moment they only had four. At this young age, baby raccoons were a lot like little kittens—so cuddly—but they didn’t stay that way.

  “Daddy, Mr. Ramsey just called. There’s an alligator in the city pool.”

  Mr. Carter had strawberry blond hair and a fine sprinkle of freckles on his nose. He was tall enough to reach all the top shelves in the cupboard and skinny enough to stick his arm behind Keisha’s dresser when her comic books fell back there. The best thing about him was that he always took you seriously. In fact, he said kids were smarter than adults sometimes. He would not ask Keisha if she was making this up.

  “How big is it?”

  “The rescue tube plus a tail. I bet it’s a couple of years old.”

  “Maybe it came out of the sewer!” Razi said.

  “That was just a story Zack and Zeke told us,” Keisha said to Razi, who, at five, still had trouble telling the difference between what was real and what was make-believe. “Alligators can’t live in Michigan. It’s too cold.”

  “Maybe it came up here for summer vacation,” Razi said as he finished feeding the sleepy baby raccoons. “Maybe it came up to visit relatives in the zoo and then it found out the zoo was closed for the day and then it got lost in that funny place downtown with all the one-way streets and then—”
Razi paused to take in a big breath. Breathing was a problem if you were trying to tell an “and then” story.

  But Keisha knew that once Razi got going, he could last a long time. Razi’s record was sixty-two “and then’s.” By the time he said “the end” instead of “and then” when he told that story, Mama had finished her crossword puzzle and Grandma was asleep on the couch.

  So Keisha rushed in with the words “I promised Mr. Ramsey we’d be there in ten minutes.”

  “We’d better get a move on, then.”

  “Can I bring my suit?” Razi asked as they walked back toward the house.

  “Swimming’s not likely with an alligator sighting, bucko.” Daddy held open the screen door.

  “They’ll probably have to shock the pool with chlorine,” Keisha said. “Just like they do after a baby poops.”

  “I don’t want to wait until after,” Razi said. “I want to ride on the alligator’s back.”

  “I think you’re confused about alligators.” Daddy picked up Razi and set him on his shoulders. “An alligator isn’t friendly like a dolphin or a porpoise. An alligator would be more likely to turn you into a snack than give you a ride on its back.”

  “Hey!” Razi said. “That rhymes! You’re a poet and you didn’t know it.”

  Keisha held the back door open, and Daddy bent down so that he and Razi could get through. When they got to the front desk, Daddy said to Grandma, “Looks like we have to go to the city pool to catch an alligator, Mom.”

  Grandma looked up from the computer screen. Keisha could see she was researching “jeans for the mature woman.”

  “What does ‘stonewashed’ really mean?” Grandma asked anyone who was listening. “That can’t really be washing with stones, can it? Is that washing?”

  “It doesn’t sound clean.” Daddy set Razi down and ran his fingers through his son’s hair, thinking. “But back to the alligator … Maybe it was someone’s pet.”

  “From what I know about alligators …” Grandma stood up and tugged at the waist of her OL jeans. “Well …” Grandma cleared her throat.

  Everyone waited.

  “An alligator’s mouth is the exact size needed to fit its teeth, which are large … as far as teeth go.” She opened the desk drawer, took out the truck keys and tossed them to Daddy. “Better get those raptor gloves.”

  “Good idea. We need to hustle. You coming?”

  “Coming? Of course I’m coming. I like to be close to the action just as much as you do.”

  “I have an idea how we can do it, Daddy,” Keisha said, tugging on her father’s arm. “Catch the alligator, I mean. Do you still have that big noose … the one you used to catch the bull snake?”

  “I do.”

  “Maybe we could bring that and some buckets for fresh water. I don’t think chlorine is good for alligators.”

  “Just one minute while I get the beach umbrella,” Grandma said as she stood up and looked around her. “Now, where did I put it?”

  “It’s in the basement with the inner tubes,” Daddy said. “I’ll get it. I want to get that canvas tarp we put under the tent, too. Maybe we can roll Ally up like a bug in a rug.”

  “You did it again!” Razi said. “You’re a poet and—”

  “—you didn’t know it.” Keisha finished for Razi and grabbed her brother’s hand. “We’ll wait in the truck.”

  Grandma took Razi’s other hand. “Everyone’s always in such a hurry around here. I suppose an alligator sighting means we’re not going to work on our cannonballs today. At this rate, I’ll be lucky to dip my toe in the water.”

  Chapter Two

  Mr. Ramsey was out front to greet them. “It’s still there,” he said, as if, even now, he didn’t believe it himself.

  Grandma was reaching into her handbag for her extra-big bottle of SPF 50 sunblock. “Get on over here, girl,” she told Keisha.

  “As soon as we catch the alligator, you can put the lotion on.” Keisha ducked out of the way and followed Razi, her dad and Mr. Ramsey into the pool office.

  “Don’t think you can escape me.” Grandma waved the bottle over her head. “I’m going to be standing at the entrance. When you step out into the sun, you’re mine.”

  “The rest of us can get a look at it from in here.” Mr. Ramsey pointed to the plate glass window that looked out onto the pool. Keisha stared hard at the fiberglass alligator that stood at the very edge of the pool where the little kids played. It was so shallow you could walk right in after you got hit with the water that spouted from its snout.

  There did seem to be something below it. Not a very big something as far as a full-grown alligator was concerned.

  “Here.” Mr. Ramsey handed the binoculars to Daddy. “Have at it.”

  Daddy looked through the glasses. “Yup. That’s your standard-issue reptile.” He passed the glasses to Keisha. “Can’t tell you for hundred percent positive sure it’s an alligator until I get out there. Might be a big lizard. Maybe a Komodo dragon.”

  Keisha looked through the binoculars. It sure looked like something alive and scaly, but the legs of the big play alligator made it hard to see. Daddy started back to the truck to get his gear. Keisha didn’t bother asking if she could go onto the pool deck with him. Daddy had told her many times that until she was an adult, he wouldn’t allow her on any dangerous rescue missions. That meant eighteen, which also happened to be the age to get a tattoo—if she wanted one of those—or to pierce anything besides her earlobes.

  “Can I at least go look at it from outside the pool fence?” she called after him.

  “Me too! Me too!” Razi was hopping on one foot. The other was curled around his knee.

  Daddy turned around. “Bathroom first,” he and Keisha said at the same time.

  As Keisha took Razi’s hand and began pulling him toward the locker rooms, she called back to her dad, “If you wait a minute, I have a couple of ideas.”

  “Let me get suited up first.”

  Keisha headed toward the women’s locker room but Razi pulled back. “Mommy said when I was five, I could do it myself.”

  “Razi, please …” Keisha just wanted to get back to the action. But as hard as she pulled, Razi resisted. He was getting strong! “Fine, but don’t take forever … and wash your hands.”

  Razi disappeared through the doorway of the men’s locker room. After a minute, Keisha called through the tiled entryway, “No breathing on the mirror and writing your name. No unrolling the toilet paper.”

  After three minutes, she knew something had caught her brother’s attention. “What are you doing in there? I’m counting to ten and then I’m coming in….”

  Keisha counted to herself so she could skip a few numbers. As soon as she took one step inside, she bumped into Justin, the head lifeguard. He didn’t see Keisha because he was patting his face with a towel.

  “Hey, Keisha. I was shaving. Mr. Ramsey doesn’t like it when we look scruffy. You can go on in. There’s nobody in there but Razi, and he’s looking into one of the toilet bowls.”

  Keisha curled up her toes with their pretty painted nails to keep her flip-flops tight. She had never been in the men’s locker room before. But she had to get her brother. He was on his hands and knees in one of the bathroom stalls, looking into the toilet bowl. Just as Keisha reached him, he leaned forward and flushed, watching the flow of the water with great concentration.

  Keisha grabbed his arm. “Come on, Razi. We’ve got an alligator to catch.”

  “I was just thinking,” Razi said, “about how he got here. Wouldn’t he get drownded if he was flushed down the toilet and then swishy-swashed through all the pipes and then emptied into the pool?”

  Keisha sighed. You never knew where Razi’s imagination would take him. She had to be careful not to rush her brother. If she did, he would lock his arms around the toilet bowl and hold on for dear life. From experience, Keisha knew that when she tried to get Razi to do what she wanted him to do, he almost always fought back. I
t went faster when Razi thought it was his idea.

  “Razi, if you let me show you the real alligator outside, I can explain it. You see, alligators are pretty much waterproof. They have little flaps that close over their nose and their ears, and they have more than one eyelid—it’s like wearing a pair of swimming goggles all the time.”

  “Do you have to pay extra for those or do they come with the standard model?” Razi was now staring up at the cement-block wall. He had the same look of concentration he got when Daddy took him down to Bishara’s Friendly New and Used Auto Emporium.

  “It used to be extra, but it’s standard-issue on all new models,” Keisha said, circling her fingers around Razi’s wrist. “What’s even better …” She waited until Razi got to his feet and started to follow her. He had that faraway look in his eyes, like he was imagining what it would be like to have swimming goggles on all the time.

  “What’s even better is that they can close off their throats, too, and be airtight. An alligator can stay underwater for twenty minutes, no problem, but”—Keisha made one more dramatic pause to get Razi out into the sunshine—“if it’s colder and its body slows down, an alligator can stay underwater for up to eight hours, Razi.”

  “I want to see the standard-issue swimming goggles!” Razi broke free of Keisha and rushed for the fence that enclosed the pool. Grabbing on to it with both fists, he set up a playground-sized clatter. It was enough to scare the fiberglass alligator, let alone the little one underneath. Keisha thought she saw something move. Was that the alligator? Even outside the fence that surrounded the pool area, they were still too far away to see well.

  Grandma was scanning the water from the other side of the pool. She stood on the pool deck near the entrance by the lifeguard station. That was the only way to get into the pool—besides coming from Mr. Ramsey’s office—so the lifeguard could see if you hadn’t showered or could blow his whistle if you were so excited to get into the nice cool water that you ran on the deck.

  Nice cool water, nice cool water. Ooh! That gave Keisha an idea. She waved her arms at Daddy as he emerged from the pool office in his big waders and the heavy canvas gloves he used for the raptors. He was dragging the canvas tarp with one hand and holding the fishing rod with the noose attached to the end with the other.