Alligator Eyes

Alligator eyes slowly sank beneath the surface of the water. She was screaming, but nobody noticed. The roar of the airboat and the protective headphones kept all other noises out. They were not from here and had arranged for the boat ride as an afternoon excursion, but the shock of the alligators had changed all that. Suddenly, a primeval quality rose from the water and watched them as they approached. Her feelings became intense, a war of predator and prey.
She turned noticing the boat dock and civilization moving away, lost behind tall grasses and palm forests. She was isolated in her headphone world. She had tapped him on the shoulder to point and gesture, but he simply smiled and nodded. Did he not feel the terror, the danger? What if the motor stopped? What if they hit a sand bar and the boat flipped them into the water? Still, he simply smiled and nodded.
Deeper and deeper they went up the stream—more like a swamp than a river. There were no signs, no maps to this prehistoric scenario. Any maps created would be useless as storms, tides, and seasons carved and shifted waterways. Several times the boat driver took a wrong turn and had to backtrack because the stream had become a dead end. And, once he had driven right up and over a muddy sandbar.
As her death-grip on the back of the seat in front began to loosen a little from fatigue. Vultures were spotted sitting on the haunches of a large, brown animal about the size of a bull. The distance made it difficult to tell exactly what it was. Vultures! Were the vultures just waiting for the poor thing to die? Had the alligators attacked it, weakening it, so all the vultures had to do was wait? Were they some kind of deadly team? The grisly scene disappeared behind the tall grasses and mud hills.
The twists and turns became constant and direction no longer meant anything. Eyes peered at them around every bend. Sometimes, twenty or thirty pairs slowly sank as they approached, but never a trace could be seen below the surface, although the mud bottom or a fat, round turtle were clearly visible. How could they vanish so completely? Where could so many of them go?
“Many” was an understatement. Hundreds, maybe thousands, of alligators were comfortable in this vast water and grass world. She had seen hundreds. How many more must there be in side streams? Looking ahead, dark eyes with an occasional nose continued to sink. No longer did she hold on to the hope that at least some of them were tufts of grass or floating sticks. The alligators resided here. She did not belong.
The first one spotted on land was about two meters from nose to tail walking along the edge of the stream. He didn’t seem startled but did pick up his pace as they passed. Off in the distance a large group of vultures circled and sank, circled and sank, as they approached a wide expanse of water with a small muddy entry into the stream. The vultures were converging on something at the water’s edge. It could not be seen, but the smell of death was everywhere as they passed by.
There were no other people to be seen. The headphones and the cacophony from the airboat reinforced the isolation. Nothing existed but sky, water, vultures, alligators, and three small people on a flat-bottom, top-heavy airboat.
The sudden deceleration and sweep upon the embankment came as a surprise and a relief. Headphones were ripped from heads as breathing became easier. The airboat motor was turned off, and they became part of the natural world. Birds flew everywhere, not vultures but cranes, egrets, heron, and hawks. Their calls merged in a melody of freedom and flight. Other airboats roared far in the distance. The sounds of wind in the grasses and palms soothed her mind. Far away, and barely seen through the vegetation, traffic on the road could occasionally be spotted. They were part of this world. They belonged. They had a place.
The return trip felt entirely different. The sun was shining; the sky was blue. The water belonged to a bigger world. The picture was complete. The headphones and the roar of the engine no longer isolated her from the world around her. She watched the animals interact. Cattle were crossing the stream without fear, and other adventurers roared by in airboats and forded the stream in ATV’s. Calves skipped beside their mothers, and fishermen stood along the bank. Where had they been earlier? Did they realize the dangers that lurked just below the surface of the water?
As they approached the entrance to the wide expanse of water seen before, the vultures were still there circling and sinking, so they crossed over the muddy entrance and went to investigate the smell. The vultures scattered and rose into the air as the noisy boat approached, leaving the bleached body of a huge alligator. She contemplated the mystery of life as she noticed the giant at the mercy of the smaller but persistent vultures.
Cars and pickup trucks were visible beyond the boat ramp as they drew nearer to the end of the trip. The wildlife became scarcer and the grasses shorter. Civilization was once again entering her world. The memory of the loneliness, the isolation, the fear was fading. All that was left was a haunting vision of alligator eyes.