My Beautiful Alligator

He dragged my wagon down the sidewalk while the other kids shrieked...

My Beautiful Alligator

Seems a brainer. I mean a no brainer. Alligators are beautiful. They lick with their teeth and stop traffic with their beautiful eyes. I got a lovely one when I was a kid. Called him Al. Shit, you saw that coming, didn’t you?

Well, doesn’t matter. The point is Al was a faithful companion. And fun. He dragged my wagon down the sidewalk while the other kids shrieked. After a while, a few of the kids lost their fear and I let them pet him. Three small coins a caress. Pretty soon I had enough money to buy Al some squirrels for breakfast. He was a considerate alligator, bit their heads off immediately to avoid suffering. Afterwards, he would lick my face and I could taste fresh squeezed rodent.

One day, when I was older and the other kids had gone on to become dictators or prosperity ambassadors for neglected African backwaters, I took Al on a trip around the country. We had an old VW van with two bunks in the back and a Coleman stove. We were passing through a small town one early evening when the local sheriff waved at me from his squad car to stop. It was okay. I didn’t mind. Al was sleeping peacefully in the back, covered in a light blanket.

The sheriff asked if I had an alligator license, and when I said no, we didn’t need one where we came from, he said that we weren’t in Kansas any more, which of course was true. I’m not sure where we were.

What do we do then, officer? I asked.

Well, give me a small piece of alligator tail and we’ll let it go this time, he said.

There’s an old legend that says a small bite of alligator tail cures every disease known without making you scaly. It gives you enough energy to chase an elephant around a stock car racetrack. But I didn’t want to cut off a piece of Al’s tail. That wasn’t right, and also, would probably make him angry.

Sorry officer, I said. My alligator wouldn’t approve.

Have to take you both in, then.

In jail, Al and I had adjoining cells, the only two in the place. Town was small, nestled in a bald spot between two forests, and probably didn’t even have one motel. The food was okay, though. Al got a medium size snake, and I got a baloney sandwich.

Next day we went in front of the judge. She was a kindly looking old woman with a plaid shirt. Told us that she had once lived in alligator country, too.

Yes, your honor.

Well, she said. Tell you what. You let the sheriff here at least lick the tail of your alligator and we’ll send you on you way.

Okay, I said. I don’t think Al will mind that.

We made a ritual of it. Al climbed up onto a table. The sheriff bent down and ran his tongue from the tip of Al’s tail all the way up his beautiful back onto his head, and almost into his right eyeball. When he finished, he straightened, and wiped his lips with the back of his hand.

Thank you son, said the sheriff. I feel better already.

Were you sick? I asked.

Oh, just a little lung cancer. It’s gone now. And I promise to stop smoking.

That seemed like a good thing and I thought back to when we were kids, and I charged the other kids to pet Al. This was better payment, and Al was gentle with it.

You’re welcome, I said. The sheriff nodded.

Let’s go, Al.

We walked out of the courthouse. The van was at the curb and there were eight or ten people clustered in front of it. One was a kid with saggy eyes.

Al, I said. Looks like word gets around.

Al looked at me with his dazzling alligator smile. He didn’t mind at all. He could stop traffic with his teeth and make heaven with his beautiful eyes. And, it turned out he could persuade, some folks at least, to ignore his external appearance. They looked beyond his primitive scales and his long mouth of razors, and took note of the wonderful creature within.

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Thanks for reading Dynamic Creed. You’re the best. Don’t mind my whimsy. I go up. I go down. Left, right, to smear the map with peanut butter and jelly.

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