Zack and the Alligator Attack
My older brother Mitchel, who was twelve years
older than me, was an Eagle Scout, and he was always
working on one merit badge or another. He had a collection
of things around the house, living and dead. He had over
twenty-one snakes in various cages in our backyard, dried
rattlesnake skins hanging in his bedroom, and a stuffed
baby alligator he’d found dead on one of his hiking trips at
camp. He had taken the dead baby alligator to a taxidermy
shop to be stuffed so he could exhibit it in his room on the
shelf next to his living glass snake. It was called a glass
snake because it was clear and white so you could see its
insides. Yuck!
Anyway, Zack and I admired that stuffed alligator, but
we were warned not to go near it or touch it for any reason.
Mitchel was constantly reminding us to stay out of his
room. You know how little kids are, with me being six and
Zack being almost four. Curiosity got the better of us. One
day when we knew Mitchel was going to be gone to camp
for the day, we decided to sneak into his room to take a
look at all those mysterious things hidden there. That baby
alligator was calling to us to come and play, so we pulled
a chair up to the shelf. I stood up on the chair, and Zack
began to clap and yell, “Get the baby! Get the baby!” I was
afraid that the stupid thing would come to life and bite my
hand off if I touched it because we weren’t supposed to be
in Mitchel’s room in the first place. I lost my balance as I
was taking the alligator off the shelf, and it fell to the floor
with a thump!
I was afraid to look down for fear it would be in pieces
all over the floor. Zack began clapping again. As I looked
down, it was just lying there with its mouth open and teeth
snarling at us. I jumped off the chair, and Zack grabbed
the stuffed alligator, saying, “Run! Run, Sissy!” We started
laughing, and we played a game of tag with the alligator.
We ran from Mitchel’s room, through the living room,
through the kitchen and dining room, into the screened-in
porch, and into Mitchel’s room again, yelling and laughing
the whole time.
Zack decided to swing the alligator by its tail and hit
me with it as we ran, not realizing how delicate the stuffed
animal was and that knocking it around could cause
damage. Just as we got back to the doorway of Mitchel’s
room, Zack gave one more swing of the tail. Just as it hit
my back, the tail popped off, and all the white stuffing
came flying out its rear end! We stopped dead in our
tracks, and as we turned back toward the door, there stood
Mitchel with his mouth wide open in disbelief at what he
had seen. His prize alligator was lying on the floor with no
tail and all its insides scattered all over the bedroom like
fluffy white marshmallows.