Short Fiction of Jimmy Magyic

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My Life as an Alligator:99

My Life as an Alligator: Part One/ Mother
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~ One night in a storm, in the belly of the Mississippi marsh-lands; I was born and dumped into the bayou..like a log. Abandoned by a desperate mother in the swamp, I was found, taken in, and raised by a kind family of alligators; and for the longest time I felt inadequate for my relatively short snout and small teeth. It was only later in life, when I stood up-right and did venture to rejoin mankind, did I realize that my nose is really rather large!
But I'm getting way ahead of myself already....
My sweet adopted mom. The way she always smiled into my infant eyes, her pretty green face looming as large as a full moon above the swamp. If it wasn't for her, my father would have surely eaten me at first. She must have had the love of Leviathon in her heart to take such pains with me. I remember her carefully rolling me across reeds to bind my legs into a suedo-tail.
The other alligator children wanted to tease me as I clumisily learned to wag my "tail" as propulsion through the mud and water. But my mother would have none of it. I loved my mother.. .and I still take her cajun shrimp when ever I can get away.

My Life as an Alligator:Part Two/ Dad
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My "Dad" was a very gruff and macho alligator. Even when my sister was trapped and taken away, he never shed a tear that we could see. As an "oddball" son, I had to try to find a way to show him I was worthy of his love.
Now I was the slowest swimmer, my "tail" of reed-bound legs wasn't equal to nature's design that the other children had. It was always Choppy or Lizo that was bringing home fish for their proud fathers. Except one day...
While my Dad sunned himself along the mud-banks, I swam in the water determined that I would bring him a snack. There were fish swimming all around that day...but faster than I could keep up with. I was at the brink of despair when behold, there was a white fish with smooth skin and beauty lying at the bottom; unmoving; sleeping perhaps...just dead maybe? My heart raced! I kicked my tail and thrust and YES! I had it in my claws!!
I swam back to shore slowly..savioring every second of what was to be my turning point as a man-lizard..the inevitable pride of one's father.
My father cocked his one eye open as he heard me pad in approach; my fish in my mouth as if I snatched it in full swim. His eyed widened! He began to stare openly! My smile bloomed in realization that my time as hunter had come; and the white fish fell to the ground before him. He rolled the fish over to reveal a scaled brown under-belly. He rolled it back. Then...he laughed at me with joy. He patted my back. He hugged me and let me know for the first time that he loved me! He jawed the fish up and took it back to our family's lair. And there it sat for a year, not decaying.
The fish had "KEDS" stencilled on the side..I later wore it as a training shoe when I finally taught myself to walk upright.
Life is funny that way.

Part Three: Brothers
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My brother was turned by mother. I mean that at first he wanted nothing to to with me; adoption was a traterous act to him. I wasn't the one that was asked for. I wasn't the one to be his companion...was I? A freak...and yet...my mother talked him otherwise. So it was that he slowly came to love and protect me.
My mom had put us all to sleep by moonlight...the moon and and then an hour of cleansing and nose-rubs to sleep. But my brother had other plans.....
It was one lonely night that all the family was asleep and I was drifting..that my brother came and quietly nudged me awake again.
We slithered together out to the swamp at mid-night...
We bent no tail to escape into the moonlight...
We went to gaze at stars...
He made me repeat his style of star-gaze. I had to first watch him as closely as possible and then repeat it...and I loved this because if nothing, my brother was teaching me about his self.
See..he layed onto his back and his soft belly was exposed to sky and mosquito and firefly feeders alike. Gently; he nudged me...to watch his eyes. Back and forth they scanned; almost a twitch. The way reptilian eyes that watch and not stare sometimes, but not often, do. I decided to try it..if not for anything but to show my brother my heart's desire to be his understudy and friend.
And I layed in rapture...and the sky above began to dance. Time stood still as the cosmos twirled above in dance. The stars burned trails and the colors of such were like blooming flowers in the sun; quick time. I lost my breath....
And in that frozen moment, I knew that God had come. To us all...regardless of nature.. regardless of ambition and fruit...there was a love; and I mean love. That the swamp was home... tail or no tail...special gifts or simple strife.
I rose after hours of drift...enchanted. Star-gazed and lost as all children driven into love's arms are. My brother was gone...back to the lair; to sleep in sweet reptilian dreams of Leviathon. I padded back in disarray and happiness..wild eyed and dilated. My anticipation of life was established.

Part Four: Purple Berry Eater
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One of my Dad's friends was unforgettably a puzzle. We children used to crawl up an embankment over looking his lair by the south swamp turn by the old crickety "Man" shack to spy on him.
Lizzo would swear that there was nothing funnier than watching this crazy gator...and I secretly felt bad for him. I knew that my Dad brought him food every 7th sun shine...and that they would chat for an hour or two as true friends can do. But that also this old lizard never left his domain. I felt in my young heart that he really hated the swamp and wanted to die. Lizzo's Dad was a lot like this sick old alligator so I really didn't understand why it was so funny to my friend, but I understood why the peculiar interest.
We called him Berry-Eater. The ritual that we saw was repeated EVERY day so anytime we felt like watching the play unfold, we hid ourselves to watch just about 20 degrees before sun-down. That's right; I know my circles!
By the water was a huge of patch of poison purple-berry bushes that our parents and teachers warned us about. On occasion, we children would be herded over to a patch of these bushes, when discovered, and our parents would attack the roots in fury to dig out and destroy the plants at their roots. They let us know that at all costs, these were growths not to be tolerated. They let us know that these growths were the enemy. They were poison. But for some reason they never did destroy the one's by Berry Eater's lair. He guarded them anyways as his, we were told. You can imagine then our curiosity..I think it was Choppy that first discovered and then hurriedly told us about Berry-Eater's sun-down ritual show. Since then we came to peek and twist in fun horror at the sight...at least every week before he died.
Berry-Eater would do just that. He would slink out of his swamped lair and head to the Poison Bush. He would begin by nibbling at a few clusters of the purple berries that hung as fruit from the branches of the green pariah. Then he would go and lay down under the near-by tree and lay crouched in wait. After awhile he again would go back and eat more of the purple fruit and more feverishly. It was usually after the second ingestion that the show would start in earnest.
Berry-Eater would scamper in circles with his jaw raised as high and open as it could get. We always thought he was expecting fish to fall from the sky. He would run around and around quite a long time like this...and hiss all the while. His speed would vary unpredictably and we could see that something was growing more and more tortured with this old alligator with every revolution. And then, when you couldn't stand the sight anymore, he would suddenly break his round about dance and charge the old crickety tree. The first time I saw this I thought for sure the old man was going to bash his skull into bark.
At full speed the Berry Eater would run at the tree...and then in a split second, he would "run" up the very side...and by sheer momentum actually clinb at least two body lengths up the bark before he would be propelled into the air in a flip. Now at this point we children, hidden from view, would have chills. Never did we see such a feat of total recklessness. Berry-Eater would then, in mid-air, let out the most chilling of sounds..much like I heard a few timed before from trapped and steel-clenched tribe members before "Man" took them away. Berry-Eater then would crash in a heap to the ground; defeated in his quest to fly and join the sky birds. He would lie there unmoving for quite a while and every few moments would twist and contort in a horrible fashion. It was as if the poison was about to kill him. Usually he would get sick and the green vial would get all over himself as he writhed in seeming agony.
We usually left at this point because if we came back in the morning on the way to breakfast hunt, he would still be lying there.
What he finally did to die we never saw...we were not there for his final "flight". I do know that he was placed dead in the water without ceremony, and cast to float way. The other gator adults then dug up his plants, as enemies for all to see.

Part Five: Sex
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And so it was...that I lived with my artificial tail and my mother's love. Until one merciful day under the Star. The Star that feeds us all. The only light that we have.
I was crawling one day to the water...and I was feeling particularily abandoned. Along the mud-swept path that all us mid-children took to the swamp. And there, in my path , stood the widow.
Her husband had died earlier in the year, we all knew...and so All had attended the festival of death and all had bent tail to honor. She called to me and said...boy-child...
How is it that no women have touched you?
My soul cried. Because I am so different.
Women assume things not true. They are not scientists.
Besides, I am a freak of love.
She took my hand and said Secret?
And I said Secret.
There in the bush was the only compassion I have ever understood.
Outside of my mother.
Her soft belly and her fire.
Her in-joy and her exsplanation.
Truth.
Wrestle we did. I almost died from salt loss.
And after that tail; that trick of it...
I decided to learn to walk.


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