of the pool.
An air horn blew, and then a man hollered something about a siesta. The words were hard to make out, but the Australian accent was unmistakable.
“Mr. Dork Badger,” Wahoo’s father said to himself.
Then, to his favorite reptile, now at the bottom of the pond: “Don’t worry, princess. He tries anything funny, I’ll personally bite his head off.”
SEVEN
The underwater camera, bolted to an aluminum rod, was operated by remote control. Another camera was stationed at ground level by the side of the pool, while a third was mounted with a microphone on a high boom extending above the set.
Derek Badger waded in up to his ankles; he wore a spotless safari shirt and creased khaki hiking shorts. Strapped to one leg was a black-handled diver’s knife.
“Don’t worry-it’s just a prop,” said Raven Stark. She was fanning Derek’s face while the TV lights were being arranged.
“Looks like a real knife to me,” Mickey Cray said. He was down on one knee, chewing a wad of bubble gum. Wahoo could see the bulge from the. 45 pistol tucked under his dad’s shirt.
Alice was still ten feet deep, invisible.
Derek peered into the pond. “Well?” he said.
“Go for it,” the director told him. “We’re rolling.”
“ ’Kay, mate.”
Derek slipped up to his neck into the water, careful not to muss his hair. “No mistakes!” he shouted at the crew, and went breathlessly into the script:
“Soon the sun will be setting over the Everglades, and I find myself in a perilous predicament. I must now swim across this deep, murky pond to reach dry ground, where I can camp for the night and hopefully start a fire.
“Getting across this water is absolutely crucial to my survival, but here’s the problem-in the bush I’ve discovered fresh signs of an extremely large alligator, and I mean HUGE, lurking close by! Unfortunately, I don’t know where this massive beast is hiding right now, but it surely can’t be far…”
Wahoo glanced over at Mickey, who didn’t look enthralled.
Derek was treading water, facing the camera mounted on the shore:
“The American alligator is one of the most primitive brutes on the planet. In millions of years this toothy species hasn’t changed hardly at all, and there’s a good reason for that. You see, gators are perfect predators- powerful, silent and unbelievably fast!
“If that monster were to attack me right now, the only chance I’d have of escaping alive would be to fight back ferociously, desperately, and gouge it in the eyes…”
Wahoo watched his father’s expression darken.
Meanwhile, the guy with the remote control for the underwater camera was urgently pointing at the screen of his video monitor, trying to get the director’s attention. Apparently Alice was on the move.
Mickey Cray stood up. Wahoo’s eyes flicked toward the cattails, where he’d concealed a long bamboo pole. The pole could be used to poke the alligator if she decided to attack.
Derek slowly began swimming across the pool, calling back to his imaginary viewers:
“Well, wish me luck. Here I go!”
Wahoo and his father sidled closer to the video monitor and peeked over the cameraman’s shoulder. The screen showed a view from the submerged camera-Derek’s pale arms stroking and his legs kicking, leaving a wake of foam and bubbles.
And there was Alice, suspended beneath him, gazing up at the odd, obnoxious creature that had invaded her space.
“This is insane,” Wahoo whispered.
“Naw, she won’t touch him,” said his father. “Not on a full belly.”
But there was an edge of tension in Mickey’s voice.
“What if you’re wrong, Pop?”
“Don’t think like that. Who knows Alice better than I do?”
Sure enough, Derek Badger made it safely across the pond and slogged up into the shallows. The last line of the scene was supposed to be: Whew! That was a mighty close call!
But what he said was: “Hey, where was that stupid bloody gator?”
Mickey looked pleased. Wahoo felt a wave of relief-Alice had been a good sport.
The director assured Derek that the scene had turned out fantastic. “Your tippy toes were just millimeters from her jaws! Incredible stuff!”
Derek trudged around the bank of the pond and rejoined the crew. “I want to do another take,” he said sullenly.
“But why? Come see the replay-it’s perfect.” The director looked at Raven for backup. She pleaded under her breath with Derek, but he wouldn’t budge.
With a sigh of surrender, the director said, “Okay, then. Let’s try another one.”
Wahoo’s father stepped forward. “Naw, we’re done. You got what you need.”
Derek, who was smoothing his hair, gave no sign of hearing a word. Raven said, “Just one more take, Mr. Cray. That’ll do it.”
“Only if he gets rid of that bleeping knife.”
“But I told you, it’s just a toy-”
Wahoo’s dad reached over and snatched the dive knife from the sheath on Derek’s leg. He pressed the point of the blade to the tip of his forefinger, and a crimson bubble appeared. Raven cleared her throat. Derek shrugged, turning away.
Mickey wiggled the knife and arched his eyebrows. “That’s some toy.” He closed one hand firmly around the handle, as if testing the grip.
The mischievous glint in his dad’s eyes made Wahoo uneasy. “Give me that thing, Pop. I’ll put it somewhere safe.”
“Don’t worry. I got just the place.”
Mickey wiped the blade on the collar of Derek’s safari shirt, the blood droplet leaving a small brownish smear. Then he tossed the knife high in the air and watched it spiral down into the middle of the pond, where it disappeared with a sploosh.
Derek was now paying attention. “Are you totally, completely out of your mind?”
Mickey clicked his teeth. “You got fifteen minutes, brother. One more shot.”
The TV crew began scrambling. Somebody brought Derek a clean shirt, and Raven retouched the makeup on his nose. The director checked the angles on all three cameras while his assistants adjusted the lighting.
A swelling appeared in the glassy pool-Alice, rising to take a breath. This time the full breadth of her back broke the surface, the black scales glistening like barnacles. She was as wide as a railroad track.
Derek said, “Ha! Nice of you to finally make an appearance.”
Everyone on the crew stopped to gaze at the enormous creature that floated only a few feet away. Wahoo could tell they were impressed. He could also see they were jittery about being so close to such an animal.
“Don’t you move!” Derek barked at the reptile. He wheeled on Mickey: “Make sure she stays right there till I’m back in the water.”
Wahoo’s dad just shook his head.
The director yelled, “Action!” and Derek jumped into the pond. He was about as graceful as a potbellied pig.
Alice immediately sank out of sight.
“No! No!” Derek squawked. “Where’d she go now?” He was dog-paddling in circles.
