gun.
“Derek’s never done a show in the Everglades,” Wahoo said to his father.
“They say he’s a humongous pain in the butt, this guy.”
“Just be nice, Pop. It’s a lot of money.”
Mickey promised to behave. “So, when do we get to meet the man himself?”
“His assistant is supposed to stop by later.”
“What kind of python do they want-Burmese? African rock?”
Wahoo said, “Honestly, I don’t think it matters.”
They set to work building a pen for a young bobcat that was being delivered from a ranch up in Highlands County. The cat had been struck by a Jeep and suffered a broken leg that wouldn’t mend, so it could never be released back into the wild. Mickey Cray had agreed to raise the animal, and he hoped to make it tame enough for TV work.
Bobcats were strong, meaning the pen had to be sturdy. Wahoo knew that a person with double vision shouldn’t be using a nail gun, so he put his dad in charge of measuring and cutting the chicken wire. By noon Mickey’s headache came roaring back, and he was in misery. Wahoo steered him to the house and made him lie on the couch and fed him four aspirins.
Minutes later, somebody started knocking on the front door. Mickey raised up and said, “That’s probably the guy with the bobcat.”
Wahoo looked out the window and saw a woman with a shining stack of red hair. She wore tan shorts and jeweled sandals, and she was carrying a leather briefcase.
“No cat,” he said to his father.
“Well, open the darn door.”
“But what if she’s from the bank?” Wahoo whispered. The Crays were months behind on their mortgage payments.
Mickey peeked out the window. “She is definitely not from the bank.”
Wahoo invited the woman inside. She introduced herself as Raven Stark.
“I’m Derek Badger’s production assistant,” she said. “I brought your contract.”
“Excellent,” said Mickey.
Wahoo noticed that Raven Stark had a strong accent. He tried not to stare at her hairdo, which looked like a sculpture made of red chrome.
She asked, “May I take a look around?”
“Nope,” said Wahoo’s father.
Raven Stark seemed surprised.
“First you’ve got to sign a release form,” Mickey said. “I don’t want to get sued if you fall into the gator pond and get bit.”
She laughed. “I’ve been doing this a long time, Mr. Cray.”
“You sign the release, my son will be happy to give you the grand tour.”
A few years earlier, Mickey Cray had invited Wahoo’s elementary school class to come see his wild animals. A boy named Tingley had ignored Wahoo’s warning and reached into one of the cages to tug the tail of a grumpy raccoon, which had spun around and clawed the kid’s arm so badly that it looked like a road map of Hialeah. Mickey paid for Tingley’s doctor bills, though not before telling his parents that their boy was dumb as a box of rocks. Ever since then, Mickey’s insurance company insisted that everyone who came on the property had to fill out a legal form saying it wasn’t Mickey’s fault if they got hurt.
While Raven Stark signed the release, Mickey signed the contract from Expedition Survival! Wahoo noticed that he scrawled his name crookedly below the line where it was supposed to go, which meant his eyesight was still jumbled.
“How long is the shoot going to take?” Mickey asked.
Raven Stark said, “Until we get it right.”
Wahoo’s dad looked pleased. “So it’s one thousand a day, plus location fees and the animal rentals.”
“Correct.” She took an envelope from her purse and handed it to him. “Here’s eight hundred dollars as a deposit.”
Mickey counted the cash and then turned to Wahoo. “Son, go show this fine lady whatever she wants to see.”
Because it was going to be an Everglades show, Raven Stark was keenly interested in Alice the alligator. Wahoo led her to the pond and unlocked the gate.
Raven whistled. “That’s a monster, eh?”
“Twelve feet,” said Wahoo.
“How much?”
“One hundred and fifty dollars a foot, so that’s…”
“Eighteen hundred even,” Raven said. “No problem.”
Wahoo couldn’t wait to tell his father.
“Do you have another one that’s smaller?” asked Raven.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Something Derek could wrestle?”
“Wrestle?”
“Maybe a four-footer,” Raven said. “Five feet, max.”
“I’ll have to check with Pop.” Wahoo foresaw trouble. His father didn’t like anybody messing with the animals.
“Where are your pythons?” Raven asked.
Wahoo led her to the heavy glass tanks where the constrictors were kept. South Florida had become infested with huge exotic snakes that, like the iguanas, had been imported for the pet trade. Hurricane Andrew had blown apart several large reptile farms and scattered baby pythons and boa constrictors all over the place.
“Derek wants a beast,” Raven stated.
Wahoo showed her a fourteen-footer that had been captured while devouring an opossum in a Dumpster behind the Dadeland Mall. The man who’d found the snake was supposed to turn it over to state game officers, but instead he’d sold it to Mickey Cray for three hundred bucks.
Raven agreed it was an impressive specimen. “But can he be handled safely?”
“It’s a she,” Wahoo said, “and she’s a biter.”
“Oh.”
“Pop can work with her. She’ll be okay.”
“I hope so,” said Raven Stark. “How much?”
“Seven hundred for the day.” Wahoo tried to sound steady and businesslike. He wasn’t used to handling the negotiations. The standard rental rate for pythons was fifty dollars a foot.
“Okay, fine. What did you say your name was?”
He told her.
“Is that ‘Wahoo,’ like the fish?”
Everybody made that assumption. “My dad named me after a wrestler,” the boy explained.
“How interesting.”
“Not really,” said Wahoo.
“Can I ask what happened?” She pointed at the white bump on Wahoo’s right hand, where a thumb should have been.
“Yes, ma’am. Alice got it.”
“You’re serious, aren’t you?”
Quickly Wahoo said, “It wasn’t her fault, it was mine.”
One day he’d been showing off for a girl who had come over after school to see the animals. Wahoo had brought her down to the gator pond for a feeding, but he stepped way too close to Alice, who jumped up and snapped the thawed chicken out of his grasp, taking his thumb along with it. The girl’s name was Paulette, and she’d fainted on the spot.
Changing the subject, Wahoo asked, “Where is Mr. Badger?”
