Algernon's Fable
by
Agnes Wall
Algernon reclined on a squishy couch in the swamp. It was time for his yearly checkup. He had more choppers than anyone could count. "Open wide," said the dentist, and stuck his head gingerly into his patient's enormous mouth. "I don't see any cavities but I'd suggest that you eat more roughage. To stay strong and useful, an alligator's teeth must chew on hard objects," he remarked after hastily withdrawing his head.
Algernon heartily agreed with this advice. He'd always preferred solid and chewy food. The best catches, of course, were people. He'd snagged a few when they leaned over too far to see him where he lay in his favorite canal, pretending sleep and looking like a harmless log. One guy he'd caught was an elderly Canadian here for the winter months. The man was a bit tough and not as crunchy as Algernon would have wished. Besides, it was against the law in Florida to eat Canadians. It gave the tourist industry a bad name.
Poor Algernon! The police called him a rogue alligator and placed him in a compound with other criminals like himself. All he got to eat were a few skinny chickens with bones the consistency of soft cardboard. Then there was a rumor that crocodile and alligator shoes, handbags and belts were again in fashion. Algernon cried himself to sleep every night and continued to weep all day long.
Blue Heron in a nearby tree watched him and finally asked, "What's your problem?"
"I'm so lonely for my friends in the Everglades! For my dear sweet mother and my multitude of brothers! If only I could get back there. Can you help me?" Algernon didn't mention his appetite for the human race. He didn't think Blue Heron would understand.
"Piece of cake! Me, the missus and the in-laws will fly you there." And they did.
Algernon quite enjoyed the flight. Security wasn't so tight as it is now. He was back in no time flat. Eyes bulging, stomach growling, and smiling broadly, he swam to the nearest high school where he tried to eat the football quarterback.
A big mistake. Again he landed in jail. The chicken was even skinnier than before. Again he cried bitterly. Huge, cold, salty drops dimpled the waters all around him. "Help! Help! he called to the Heron.
"You didn't behave yourself, did you?" the bird asked.
"Well, no, but all I did was go after a boy who wouldn't have been missed anyway." Algernon cried so loudly that he scared a bunch of little kids who'd come to look at alligators.
Blue Heron wasn't impressed. "Spare me the dramatics! Your tears aren't real and you're not sorry. I'll call them crocodile tears from now on." Ever since, tears which aren't sincere are called crocodile tears.
