#0021 | between the eyeballs

Submitted by B. in Athens, Georgia.

Here’s B.’s story:

“I once lived on a little (about 160 feet across) island in the Gulf of Mexico called Tiger Tail island. My favorite aspect of this little island was that when the sun went down the Gulf came alive!  This part of the Gulf was directly at the mouth of the Crystal River and the mostly fresh water hosted a variety of species including manatees, wild dolphins, and alligators.

I was only there for a few months, but about two weeks into it I got a call from a friend: “Dude, you live on an island! I’m coming to visit!”

He didn’t exactly say when, however, so I assumed I would get another phone call before he arrived.

About 4 days later I was shining a 1,000 candlepower flashlight across the surface of the water.  It must have been 3:00 in the morning.  Flashlighting was great fun, as when the light passed over the eyes of a semi-submerged alligator they would pop open and shine like luminous grapefruits floating down the Gulf. This particular evening, my 1,000 candles lit up a swimmer.  It was my friend!

He was going to surprise me and come over on the boat the next morning, but instead got inspired over a pint of grog at the local watering hole and hitched a ride this way with a bunch of shrimpers. Shrimpermen, you should know, are the last vestiges of pirate-like scallywags this side of international waters.  My buddy and the shrimpers apparently had some sort of falling out that ended with him leaping off the side of their boat and swimming towards a “bright beam of light that couldn’t have been more than 1000 feet away.” Little Tiger Tail, however, was most likely about a half mile from where he supposedly jumped off.

Long story short: I didn’t know it was him and he didn’t know it was me, and the whole time he was swimming I kept seeing these glowing, Bocce ball-sized gator-eyes bobbing back and forth across the water like some perverted dance of the sugarplum fairies.”