02
The eventful night was only just beginning. It was after 3am now, and the man got changed. He looked in his closet and reflected at the fact that his wardrobe consisted of only grey tones. “I’ll change that when I’m back” the man resolved. He grabbed a pullover and headed out the door. Armed with a cup of coffee and a strong sense of direction he ventured towards the zoo.
The Central Florida Zoo & Botanical Gardens was relatively far from the man’s residence and since he didn’t drive and transit didn’t run all hours of the night, he had to walk. In the spirit of time and adventure, he took some back alleys. Onwards he strode, half expecting a letdown but comforted by a new sense of purpose. The phone call with Salami, the alleged alligator, had awoken a deeply hidden spirit inside of the man. Brimming with life, he felt satisfied and complete. An oasis in the desert. A diamond in the rough. A shot at freedom after years of imprisonment.
When he finally arrived at the Zoo, he was faced with a new challenge – there was a locked gate preventing him from entering the park. In his excited state of mind, he hadn’t thought about the obstacle until it was headfirst in front of him. The gate was 10’ high and had small ornaments on top called finials, which looked like spears. Encircling the gate were the jaws of a huge foam alligator acting as an archway entrance. It’s lower lips resting on the ground, and snout high in the air, a welcome banner hung above it’s head. It had glaring yellow eyes and little foam teeth all around its scaly lips. The gate fit perfectly inside, like the final piece of a puzzle. Reminded of his purpose there, the man walked inside the monster and clenched one of the rods attached to the gate. He pondered about how to get in. The idea of going home was quickly pushed aside by his unrelenting thirst for adventure. He performed a box jump and came within 6” from the finials. He figured if he could push a rock over the gate then he could use it to climb to the top. At that point, a new challenge would await him. There was hardly any space between the roof of the welcome gator’s mouth and the top of the finials. I’ll figure that out later, the man thought to himself as he walked to the bushes to find a suitable rock.
Sourcing the rock turned out to be more difficult than the man expected. After a couple minutes of steady searching, he found a well-sized rock a few hundred meters away, across a busy street. The rock must have weighed 150 pounds. It was difficult to push but sturdy. He knew this would work. Crossing the street was the most strenuous part of the whole ordeal. A line-up of vehicles was forming behind the man who, from a driver’s perspective, was pushing a large rock across the street for no apparent reason other than misdemeanour. The man didn’t care. He had fire in his eyes and strength in his heart. The rock was heavy, but no match for the interior ferocity the man now possessed. After several insults from drivers and a couple minutes of grit, he made it across. A few more minutes and the rock was lined up right in front of the gate.
The man took a step on top of the rock. It had a flat bottom which fit nicely along the paved flooring by the entrance to the zoo, so there wasn’t much movement as he stood on it’s top. He gripped his hands around the steel bars of the gate, looked up at the finials, and pondered his predicament. He could now comfortably reach the finials without jumping. He lifted one leg and pressed it against the gate and reflected for a moment. He then did the same with the other leg. His arms and back were holding up his body against the gate. He moved up a little. He reached one hand over the top of the gate and gripped the gate from the backside. The positioning felt awkward. He moved his hand back to its original position on the front side of the gate and let his feet return to the rock. Feeling challenged but determined, he resigned himself to getting over. He realized he would have to use the tops of the finials to hoist himself up. From there, a new problem presented itself; there was only about a foot and a half of space between the palate of the welcome gator’s mouth and the finials. He would have to squeeze tightly to get through.
The man took a couple moments to will himself into action. He considered what he had been through to make it to this point. He assessed his life, and how Salami had stimulated his decision to live more boldly. He turned around and glanced up at the night sky and contemplated the vastness of the universe and considered destiny. He put his hands back on the gates and whispered a short mantra, “Fate is action. Fate is control.” And with that he pulled himself up. Each of his hands gripped a finial as his body lurched upwards, the tiny rods pressing into his palms. He pulled a leg up to the top as he wrapped one of his hands around the other side. He pulled the rest of his body up and was soon half over. His body was caught in between the finials and the upper mouth of the welcome gator. The pain from the finials was prominent. There was one pushing against his chest, making it tough to get air. He knew the pain would subside if he could squeeze himself through. He pushed hard and one of the finials tore some skin from the side of his chest as he pushed himself over. He didn’t think about his landing and promptly fell onto his hip. He winced in pain. Sprawled on the concrete with two hands on his side, he turned on his back and looked up at the same sky he saw only moments ago and felt a world away. He let out a small smile and felt powerful. A gentle breeze washed over his face like the tide does to small mollusks on the shore. He had broken into the zoo and felt a unique sense of pride. For once in his life, he had done something worth remembering.
He rose to his feet and felt the pain in his hip. His whole left side felt numb, but he didn’t care; he was a man on a mission. He walked over to a sign and saw a little alligator silhouette with an arrow pointing to the left. Expecting this whole thing to be a drawn-out prank, he turned and made his way toward the alligator den.
A few minutes later and he was within eyesight, he couldn’t see any alligators though. He hobbled a little closer and noticed the tail of a reptile under a log. He walked to the front of the den and promptly stated, “Salami?” At this, the creature under the log leaped forward and showed its face. It was an adult American Alligator.