Two children around my age were grabbing hold of my alligator and were pulling. I peered down at them and they were squinting with grins on their faces, shouting happily as water dripped from their soaking hair. I tore my eyes away as I heard more thrashing. To my horror, I saw five more eager children coming to attack my float. They all clamped their hands on the limbs of my alligator and attached themselvesl forcefully. They wouldn’t let go! I tried telling them to stop, but my English had no effect on them. Some began to scale the sides of my alligator and climb onto the shoulders, causing it to shake and rattle violently. My poor float was making squeaking noises as the captors’ bodies moved around. I faced the threat of capsizing and decided to escape. I jumped off and quickly regained hold of my alligator with one hand as chilly water surged around me. I swam as hard as I could as, what seemed millions, of children swarmed around me like a bunch of angry bees, kicking and grabbing at me all the way. I reached the shallow water and sprinted up to the shore where I was safe, but still hearing the hollers and yells from the children.
I collapsed on my towel that was sprawled onto the rocks situated next to my sister, and laid the ostracized alligator down in front of us. It was now squishy, and beads of water ran down its slippery sides as if it was perspiring as a result of its near escape.
"Dad, what is the word ‘stop’ in Italian?” I asked.
He sat up in his beach chair like a contemplating Buddha and gazed at the shimmering layers of blue for a moment.
“Alto” he replied.
I told him about my terrible experience as fast as I could with each word tumbling out of my mouth at high speed. He just laughed and simply told me next time to tell them to not attack me and my float.
I was a little tired after my attack so I sat listening to the squealing children jumping among the crashing waves. They looked like feisty fish looking for unsuspecting flies or fireworks launching themselves into the sky. My mom and my oldest sister were relaxed and chatting but stopped to say hi to a little boy who had come trotting up to them. He stared at the alligator with an air of wonderment and glanced back at my sister with his face full of excitement. He was skinny, about the age of five or six and donned a light blue and black Speedo. He had dark hair and a tanned body and a smile that revealed a couple of teeth missing. I noticed that he was perfectly dry and not running around with any of the hooligans in the water. He pointed at the alligator and jumped energetically up and down, still staring at my sister like a magnet.
“Hi!” my sister greeted. She has always like little kids.
My mom smiled at him, and my sister nodded encouragingly. He then put his hands up suspended in the air, and curled his fingers as if he was about to pounce. He uttered in a mysterious tone, “crocodillo.”
My sister laughed and began to clap her hands together so they would look like an alligator’s mouth. This made the little boy even more excited as he now growled “crocodillo” once more. He hopped up to my sister and also began clapping his hands together like an alligator as he cackled “crocodillo” in a voice that sounded like he was about to attack. He repeated this over and over again, each time saying “crocodillo” in a dark voice. After about ten minutes my sister began to get tired and wondered where his parents were. My mom laid down to take a nap but the little boy kept creeping up to my sister and uttering “crocodillo” trying to scare her. He wasing too much fun with his new friends to leave.
“Crocodillo!” he said, this time in a raspy voice like an old man who has had too many cigarettes.
When will this kid leave?
Finally, after twenty minutes of hearing this tiny boy growling like a crocodile, his mother appeared. She was wearing a gold bathing suit and was yelling at him in Italian. She saw that we didn’t understand her so she smiled, waved, and made apologetic hand gestures. She grabbed hold of the little boy’s wrist and stomped off with him dragging along.
All day people, mostly children, would stop and stare or point, mesmerized by the alligator. It was as if they had never seen one before. After another try of swimming with it, and shouting, “Alto,” I got frustrated and abandoned all attempts. I decided that I would not take my alligator to any more Almalfi beaches. |
