The Crocodile
The lights at night were nice. Calm. Smooth. The ions slid down the streetlight like a stripper down her pole. It was delicious. The smoke from my cig crawled on after the source, like drips of ice cream in zero gravity. The caustic light belted down. Relentless. It was some sexy demon coming to get us, sex us and turn us all to flame. Hell yeah, that’d be one crazy annihilation.
I went to Big Slurp. Wolf and Whisper were together over by the Community Center. I waved at them, they waved back. I was sitting around with Isaiah and a couple of girls I wasn’t familiar with. Isaiah was quiet, he had a bruise under his eye.
“Getting into fights, Isaiah?” I asked.
“Fuck off,” he muttered. Isaiah was always walking around with bruises or something.
“Hello, Crocodile,” I heard Maelle say behind me. I turned and she had her polaroid camera raised and ready to take a picture.
“Maelle hanging around Big Slurp? What a surprise-”
“Tres surprise! But I’m not here for the malted milkshakes.” She winked and took my picture.
“Still taking useless polaroids?” I asked. One of the girls I was with brought me a Coke from the stand. Girls always did that kind of thing for me. I was sitting on one of the green picnic tables. Maelle walked over and stood in front of me, her hips rest on my knees.
“They’re opposite of useless. I’m recording important things here,” Maelle assured.
“Is that so? Besides me, what kind of important shit is going down here?” I laughed and nudged her shoulder.
“Oh, yeah, really, like Wistaria is what most people would consider normal.”
“We aren’t that strange, are we?” I asked rhetorically. She winked and sat beside me. I tried to snatch the photograph from her. She waved a naughty finger at me.
“No, no, no Croco, this is my art project,” Maelle giggled.
“You know I hate getting my picture taken,” I protested, implying I should be compensated.
“And how I vow to cure you of your dolor! I have a wonderful solution for the crocodile in the grass too shy for image replication.”
“And what’s that, Maelle?” I asked. I saw her eye my shoulders, my arms, my face.
“Take many, many, photos of you. I already have fifteen, and you only know about two.”
“I hope you aren’t showing anybody these,” I warned.
“I could be. Question,” the girl said.
“Yeah?”
“Why do they call you Crocodile?” She asked.
I replied, “Because I control the sea.”
“Oh, do you? Well, what sea do you control? The pond near the farmlands or the pond near Broken Glass?” Her intent was to playfully offend me.
“Broken Glass? You aren’t still hanging around with Mr. Helmsley are you?”
“What’s it to you?” Maelle asked protectively and stood up. I didn’t want her to leave.
“Nothing to me. He got fired for a reason, that’s all.”
“You reptiles have got some way of showing affection.” She squinted and blew a kiss.
“Maelle…”
“See you in Chemistry tomorrow, love.” She slipped the photograph in my hand and sauntered away. I looked at it for a long time, not hearing the music or the crowd or Isaiah talking. Then she disappeared.
