Amechi Ngwe<\/p>\n
In the Alligator Wrestling Federation Death Match that\u2019s being broadcast live from the Rio Grande Aqua Theater tonight, I\u2019m taking on El Legarto Gigante. He\u2019s the alligator that\u2019s famous for killing Jerry \u201cThe Taxidermist\u201d Connors, Sr., who was one of the great alligator wrestlers of his generation and also my father. I was there to witness it.<\/p>\n
Sometimes when I dream at night, I\u2019m back at ringside, seated between Mother and Grandma to watch Father wrestle for the first and last time. I see El Legarto playing dead, floating belly up on the surface of the water, like a turd in a toilet bowl. I see Father turn to face us and raise his hands in victory. I see El Legato suddenly flip over and leap at him from behind, his jaws swinging open and then clamping down on Father\u2019s head. I hear Mother screaming. I see Grandma, God rest her soul, put her hands over her eyes. I see the ice cream cone I was eating slipping through my fingers to splat on the ground as El Legato dunked Father underwater.<\/p>\n
We watched and waited for Father to resurface but he never did. As his blood began to spread through the water I cried tears into the melting ice cream spreading around my flip-flops. I haven\u2019t been able to eat ice cream since.<\/p>\n
Most of the ten thousand-strong crowd already know Father\u2019s tragic story but I spend twenty minutes giving them a recap anyway. My speech isn\u2019t scripted. I speak from the heart, using fancy words like revenge, destiny, and redemption. I even cry a little. I finish by shouting into the mic that when I\u2019m done with El Legarto, I\u2019ll use his skin to make myself a wallet and a pair of boots, and I\u2019ll use his teeth to make Mother a necklace, and I\u2019ll grill his meat and make alligator po\u2019boys for all my fans. The crowd cheers loudest for the last line.<\/p>\n
Mother is in the front row again tonight. She\u2019s dabbing at tears flowing from her eyes with a red handkerchief. Nearby spectators pat her on the back and tell her how brave she was to come. I hear the ringside commentators mention to the folks at home that tonight is actually the first time Mother\u2019s come to watch me wrestle. She didn\u2019t want her only son to wrestle alligators, but it\u2019s the only thing I ever wanted to do and this is the match-up that I\u2019ve always craved. My whole life feels like it\u2019s been one long circular path that\u2019s brought me right back to where Father\u2019s death happened. I wave to my son Trey who is sitting between my wife and mother and wearing a t-shirt that says, \u201cGo to Hell, Legarto.\u201d He\u2019s eating an ice cream cone.<\/p>\n
I pick up a handful of sand from the canvas floor of the ring and rub it into my hair. I bounce off of the ropes a few times to make sure my muscles are loose and then flex my massive biceps. Then the floodlights dim. A spotlight shines on the murky water next to the ring, highlighting El Legarto\u2019s cage. It opens and he slides out and starts to swim just below the surface of the water. The bell chimes. The referee signals for us to begin. It\u2019s time to regain Father\u2019s honor<\/em>, I think to myself. I leap out of the ring, wade into the river, and grab El Legarto by his tail. I drag him backwards out of the water and up into the squared circle. The crowd cheers.<\/p>\n I study my enemy. El Legarto looks smaller and thinner than I remember. His dull skin is covered in scars, and he\u2019s only got one eye. He also seems to have trouble lifting his head. But I\u2019m not fooled by the outward appearance of this cold-blooded killer. I know what he can do. I spread my arms and yell, \u201cCome on!\u201d at him. But he doesn\u2019t attack. He just sits there. I run to the corner of the ring and grab a long, pointed stick. I use it to poke him.<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s illegal!\u201d the referee says to me. He starts to count to ten.<\/p>\n \u201cYou overgrown gecko!\u201d I shout at my father\u2019s murderer. \u201cYou walking wallet!\u201d I poke harder and harder.<\/p>\n \u201cSeven!\u201d the referee counts.<\/p>\n I\u2019m two seconds away from disqualification when El Legarto finally responds. He opens his jaws and snaps at the stick. When his mouth opens I see he\u2019s nearly toothless. I imagine he has trouble eating nowadays. His few remaining teeth look like round pebbles. The necklace I make with them won\u2019t be so good. And his ugly, scarred leather won\u2019t make good boots. I tell him these things to taunt him.<\/p>\n I toss the stick over his head. His eyes follow it as it sails out of the ring and splashes into the water. When his head is turned I jump on his back and use my hands to pry his mouth open. The crowd ooh\u2019s. I hold his upper jaw open using only my chin. The crowd applauds. I\u2019m panting now, and his breath smells like death, and it takes all my willpower not to vomit into his mouth. Then I pretend to struggle with him to heighten the drama for my fans but old El Legarto just sits there like he\u2019s already been stuffed and mounted for display in the Alligator Wrestling Federation museum over in Baton Rouge.<\/p>\n For a moment, just one moment, I wonder if there\u2019s any fight left in this old, worn out beast. Then I remind myself that he\u2019s a sly creature and is probably trying to lull me to sleep so he can pounce when my back\u2019s turned. The old rope-a-dope trick he pulled on Father. \u201cI ain\u2019t no dope,\u201d I tell him, \u201cand I\u2019m about to send you to hell, Legarto.\u201d I roll off of his back. He takes the opportunity to limp back towards the river, moving as fast as his arthritic legs will carry him. This is such a mismatch<\/em>, I think to myself as I walk after him. He slides into the water and floats on the surface like a log. The crowd chants for me to follow him in. I point theatrically to my loving audience and shout my catchphrase: \u201cWho wants gator soup?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSoup! Soup!\u201d the crowd yells.<\/p>\n Cameras flash as I climb up on the top rope of the ring. I tap my right elbow twice with my left hand. People begin to stomp their feet. It sounds like an earthquake. They know my signature move, The Gator Hater, is coming. I notice that the bloodlust has even infected Mother. She\u2019s chanting with the rest of them for me to jump. Her passionate support makes me happy. Forget the boots; to show her my thanks I\u2019ll make her a gator skin purse instead. The audience falls silent as I launch myself towards El Legarto. My elbow leads the way and strikes into the back of his head. I land on his back and dunk him underwater. He tries to flee but I grab the skin under his lower jaw like I would a man\u2019s shirt in a bar fight and hold him still. He is at my mercy.<\/p>\n When we resurface, the crowd, led by Mother, is chanting: \u201cFinish that beast, so we can feast.\u201d Mother mimes eating soup with a spoon.<\/p>\n I prepare to strike the killing blow but make the mistake of looking into my enemy\u2019s one good eye. I find that he reminds me of one of those abused puppies from those super sad commercials that make my wife cry. An abused puppy that\u2019s got one big, ugly, Cyclops-looking eye, and is wet, and stinky, and won\u2019t roll over unless it\u2019s doing a death roll, which isn\u2019t cute at all. \u201cThat one\u2019ll never be adopted,\u201d I can hear her saying as she blows her nose into a tissue. I hate to see her cry. Just thinking about it now is enough to make my lower lip quiver.<\/p>\n The crowd calls for El Legarto\u2019s blood again but I can\u2019t bring myself to put the wretched beast out of his misery. Killing him won\u2019t bring Father back anyway, as much as I wish it would. I pull him close and whisper into his ear: \u201cGet out of here. Don\u2019t you ever come back to my ring.\u201d I let him go and push him deeper into the water. He slips under the surface like a diving submarine.<\/p>\n The crowd boos me for denying them a kill. I imagine those watching at home on pay-per-view are equally pissed off after shelling out a hundred bucks for a death match that didn\u2019t have a death in it, but I don\u2019t care. What kind of example would I be setting for my son if I kill an old alligator that can hardly move?<\/p>\n As I turn to get out of the water beer cans, hot dogs, and curses begin to rain down on the ring. I make eye contact with Mother. She looks disappointed. Hudson \u201cRivers\u201d McMillan, Commissioner of the Alligator Wrestling Federation, is probably mad at me too. I guess I\u2019ll have to find another career. Maybe I can go wrestle manatees or beached whales or something. But first I\u2019ll get to the mic and give a speech about compassion and forgiveness, kinda like how Rocky does in Rocky IV<\/em>. If my fans won\u2019t listen at least I\u2019ve taught Trey —<\/p>\n I look at Mother again and realize that her face is not showing disappointment; it\u2019s showing fear. I hear a splash behind me and then a low, guttural growl. My wife screams. Mother puts her hands over her eyes. And as a shadow blocks out the light above me, I see the ice cream cone slips through Trey\u2019s fingers.<\/p>\n AMECHI NGWE<\/strong> lives in Houston, Texas. His work has previously been published in Structo Magazine<\/em> and Divergent Magazine<\/em>.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Amechi Ngwe In the Alligator Wrestling Federation Death Match that\u2019s being broadcast live from the Rio Grande Aqua Theater tonight, I\u2019m taking on El Legarto Gigante. He\u2019s the alligator that\u2019s famous for killing Jerry \u201cThe Taxidermist\u201d Connors, Sr., who was … Continue reading