John - The Perils of Inattention

Set a few days after "Attack of the Alligators".

"Uh-huh."

Alan gave a nod, apparently satisfied by my vague murmur of agreement. He paced Five's deck and went on, his words blending into a meaningless stream of sound as I focussed on the checklist in front of me. Usually I'd have this systems check out of the way long before Thunderbird Three made its approach. In the aftermath of the Theramine affair, there'd been too much else to keep me busy. The few minutes I'd managed to set aside for routine tests had been stolen by a string of distress signals. None had really needed International Rescue, but determining that, reassuring the callers and passing them on to local services all took time.

So, pleased as I was to see Alan with nothing more than a fading bruise to show for his alligator encounter, I had no qualms about filtering out his stream of 'news' (read 'gossip') as I concentrated on the formalities. I didn't need to relive the ins and outs of the last few rescues, or the birthday party I'd missed. As long as I nodded, or shook my head for occasional variety, at regular intervals, my little brother would continue unprompted. I let him get on with it.

I was tallying up the last two columns of figures, double-checking the automatic calculation, when Scott wandered through the link to Thunderbird Three. He was just in time. I ticked off the last totals and signed the checklist with a flourish. Done. Thunderbird Five was Alan's for the next month and he was more than welcome to it.

"… And don't worry, Scott. Johnny's promised to take care of it. Right, John?"

"Sure." … wait… what?

His eyes scanning the signed paperwork, Alan missed my confused expression. Scott doesn't miss anything. He raised an eyebrow, unconvinced, and for a moment I relaxed, knowing I could quiz my big brother as soon as we got Three underway. Then Scott grinned, his blue eyes dancing with amusement. He clapped me on the back, letting his arm settle across my shoulders.

"Gee, John. You're a braver man than I am."

Well… gosh darn it. Scott's tone was entirely serious, all hint of his grin wiped away before Alan turned back to us. It was a challenge I couldn't ignore. There was nothing for it. I pulled a smug expression across my face, straightening my shoulders under Scott's affectionate half-embrace.

"This is news?" I asked in mock surprise. My brother's arm tightened, his other hand coming up to rub his knuckles across the back of my head. I swatted him away, patting at my hair to settle it after the rough treatment, and Scott chuckled, already turning to the hatch.

"C'mon, Johnny. Let's head on home."

"See you next month, bro." Alan seemed more relaxed already, settling into the central chair. He frowned briefly, stopping me in the hatchway. "Only you'd better not tell Tin-Tin what I said, okay?

"That, kiddo, is not going to be a problem."

This time I meant it.

Big Brother was watching me. I could feel his amused eyes on me all through our descent then during the evening meal that followed our landing. I ignored them manfully. Okay, so I was kicking myself for not giving in and asking Alan what the heck he meant straight away, or even abandoning my pride and demanding an explanation from Scott as Three undocked. By the time I'd come to the conclusion I should do just that, it was too late to back down.

I had no clue what I'd promised our kid brother.

Scott knew it. And he knew that I knew he knew it. Whether it showed on his face or not, the darned feller was laughing fit to bust. I'd never hear the last of it if I caved and admitted I hadn't been listening now. Scott might not be quite the joker that, say, Gordon or Alan was, but he knew how to milk an advantage, and his memory was a whole lot longer.

I didn't have much of a plan, I'll admit it. After the sleepless nights that were routine on Five, I just wanted a bit of peace and quiet, and my bed was calling. I had a month to figure out what Alan wanted. It would keep.

I was brushing my teeth, peering blearily into the bathroom mirror, when an unfamiliar sound made me hesitate. A rustle? A hiss? I couldn't put a name to it, and quite honestly I was half asleep already. A few seconds listening and the noise was dismissed as a fragment of dream, creeping over me before I'd so much as closed my eyes.

The sound that woke me six hours later was harder to ignore.

I jerked awake, rigid on my bed, tense for a reason I didn't quite understand. Instinct told me to hold still, and I did just that for a long moment. The room was close and muggy with tropical heat. I had a light cover thrown over me, my feet hanging out into free air in an effort to keep cool. Despite the temperature, I shivered and the sound came again. A coughing, screeching growl, it was like nothing I'd ever heard. There was a rustle… and a thump. A sense of movement.

There was something in my room.

It padded closer, making odd, irregular movements through a room so dark that I couldn't even tell how close the thing was. I twitched, willing my muscles to unlock and my eyes to unravel the pitch blackness.

And something nibbled at my big toe.

I don't think of myself as particularly brave. Not in the hero-of-the-hour way that Scott and Virgil are, or even with the where-angels-fear-to-tread boldness of our little brothers. I'll take risks, sure, but I can't say I like it all that much, and I sure like to know what I'm dealing with.

Right now, I was scared as heck.

There was nothing brave about scrambling to my feet to confront the intruder. It was that or be eaten where I lay. And it wasn't courage that stopped me yelling for backup. For all I knew, the thing in my room would take that as the ringing of a dinner gong. Besides, if one of us had to be eaten tonight, it wasn't going to be one of my brothers. It didn't take nerve, or even thought, just pure instinct to decide that.

I swatted at my bedside table, knocking a water glass to the ground with a clatter before my outstretched fingers found the light switch. I don't know whether it was the sound, or the light, or some combination of the two, that startled the creature. There was another screeching roar, and a scuttle across my hardwood floor. Maybe it really moved that fast, or perhaps I just had my eyes focussed too high, looking for a beast as big as my imagination made it, but I almost missed it.

Through the light-glare stabbing at my eyes, I saw a flash of grey-green, heard a creak, noticed my bathroom door sway slightly as something knocked against it.

How I got across the room and found that door handle in my grasp. I really don't know. Gordon's room was next to mine, and beyond that Scott's and then Grandma's. If this thing, whatever it was, got out into the house...

I yanked open the door with an abrupt motion, just in time to see a ripple of motion on the surface of the water.

I stopped. Blinked. Whether it happened while I slept, or I'd just been too tired to notice before, my bath had been filled halfway to the brim. I could see the ripples washing across the ceramic walls at the end closest to me. In the light spilling through from my bedroom, the surface looked dark and muddy, and not just because my shadow lay across it. A rugged, scaled form was almost invisible, half-submerged, betrayed only by the two beady eyes that looked back at me, yellow and slitted, level with the murky surface.

"What the…?"

I'm honestly not sure which of us was more bewildered. Certainly neither of us moved as I stared at the creature. Its rough skin looked almost like a floating log. One with teeth and claws and a tail that twitched with nervous tension. Sure, it was maybe a tenth of the size I'd been imagining, and hardly bigger than my forearm, but that still made it big enough to take off a finger, or even a whole hand, if anyone were idiot enough to offer them. I remembered that needle-sharp nip at my toe and kept my hands tucked well in against me as my mind spun.

Gordon!

My shoulders sagged, relief and understanding warring with sheer mind-blowing irritation with my younger brother.

Okay, I got it, kind of. Johnny's the only one of us not to face a giant alligator this week, so let's welcome him home with a miniature one in his tub.

It made sense, in a twisty, Gordon sort of a way. I might have suspected Alan if I hadn't known he wanted something from me… whatever the heck that was. Even Virgil was capable of pulling something like this if he was in the mood, although odds were that Scott would know too in that case, and I was betting our dreadful liar of a big brother would have let something slip. Besides, Scott and Virgil took a little longer to shake these things off than Gordy, and none of us had forgotten the dreadful moments when the two of them had to stand by, as helpless as I was on Five, depending on Gordon's sharp-shooting to save our youngest brother.

So… Gordon, then?

Honestly, joke aside, I was kind of surprised at him. The reptile in my tub looked like a fairly common pygmy croc. It wasn't exactly a rare species; you could get one at any high-end pet boutique, or even on a street market in the right part of the world. That didn't necessarily make it a perfect house pet. Given how down Gordon usually was on captive wildlife, and how obsessed he could be about not bringing alien species back to the island on the 'Birds, it was going a bit far to introduce one just to pull my leg.

And just what the Pete was I meant to do with the creature? The obvious, and most obviously irresponsible, course was to dump the animal back in Gordon's room. Or, I guessed, I could escalate, pulling the same prank on one of our other brothers. Or… Brains, maybe.

It was tempting, if only briefly.

Two things stopped me: the reptilian eyes that followed my every move with unblinking tension, and the memory of the thing's rapid, scuttling retreat.

I spent too many of my days dealing with terror, threat and pain to inflict them on another creature… even a darned alligator. How many times had Dad or Grandma rescued some creepy-crawly from us kids with the old promise, "it's more scared of you than you are of it"? Then, I'd doubted it was true. Now, I was sure of it. The thing was about as happy to be in my bath as I was to have it there. I wasn't about to make it the unwilling prize in a particularly nasty game of pass-the-parcel.

But what were the alternatives…? Let it loose here on the island? Even if I were that dumb, Gordon would have a thousand fits… if Dad let him live that long. Fly it somewhere more appropriate and set it free? Odds were the thing was captive-bred, at least if it had come from somewhere vaguely reputable. It already looked hungry. Actually, it looked like an alligator and maybe the things always looked famished. Or maybe I just remembered the needle-sharp nibble at my twitching toes. Either way, I wasn't casting the thing out to starve.

That didn't mean I could keep it. A beast like this wouldn't stay hidden long, and Dad would hit the roof if he found out someone had pranked me with it. Gordon had to be letting off steam after the Theramine affair. I might be annoyed as heck, but I wasn't enough of a sneak to land him in hot water… or even murky swamp water… for it.

Sighing, I backed up a step, and then another. This was going to take some thought.

Streamers of pink cloud lit the eastern horizon by the time I logged out of my computer and dropped the keyboard onto the bed beside me. I shivered in the cool pre-dawn air and mentally reckoned up my next moves.

Finding an exotic pet rescue had been the first challenge. Getting in touch with the manager, and persuading him to accept the little monster – along with a hefty donation to the shelter – had been the second. Compared to that, arranging for a specialist animal courier to meet me at the mail depot had been child's play… at least with a Tracy-sized trust fund to pay his once-in-a-decade tip at my disposal.

A trip to the kitchen freezer equipped me with the fish I'd need for bait. Diverting to the basement storeroom added elbow-length leather gloves, a large box and a length of rope knotted into an improvised lasso to my haul.

After that it was just a matter of splashing, scrabbling, tooth-and-claw terror and a few minutes of memory I'd very much prefer to forget before I was done.

Dropping back onto my bed, I caught my breath. The plastic box rattled and shuddered, its walls bowing out momentarily as a muscular tail swiped from side to side.

"More scared of me than I am of it," I reminded myself. "Yeah… sure."

"Couldn't sleep, Johnny?"

"I was awake. Thought I'd make myself useful."

It wasn't a surprise to find Scott waiting as I taxied back into the family hangar. I'd replaced his name on the mail-run rota with my own and taken off in the early dawn light to complete the chore. I wasn't about to explain why, but I wasn't idiot enough not to expect the question.

"Right…" Scott extended a hand, catching mine wrist-to-wrist and balancing me as I hopped down from the cockpit. A slight frown creased his brow, just the slightest hint of suspicion in his voice. He waited until we were in the lift, almost to the villa above, before voicing it. "I sure hope you know what you're doing."

"What…?" Raised voices in the lounge ahead stopped my question unvoiced.

"You almost missed the excitement." Scott was herding me out of the lift and down the corridor ahead of him. There wasn't time to ask what he was talking about. The lounge opened in front of us, and there were already too many questions in the air to add more of my own.

"But, Mr Tracy! Where could he be? Gordon and I have searched everywhere and Alvin is gone." That was Tin-Tin, her dark eyes bright with distress.

"Oh my!" Grandma, not looking much better. She raised her hands to her face and her feet to a nearby foot-stool, her eyes sweeping the floor.

"Alvin?" Dad seemed to be the only one who shared my confusion.

"The alligator." Virgil, tone neutral, legs firmly tucked under him on the sofa rather than hanging down to the ground.

"I've told you. It's a caiman, not an alligator!" Gordon, frustrated and worried. "If that thing's got loose…. Do you know how many rare birds nest on this island?"

"I've scanned the nesting sites, Gordon." That was Alan, on the link from Five, with the air of someone repeating himself. "No reptile heat signatures larger than four inches, remember?" My youngest brother's eyes widened, his expression betraying a mix of wariness and curiosity as he noticed our arrival. "Look, guys, I told you… the alligator's fine. John promised to take care of it!"

I… promised… to take… care… of… it.

For a moment, I'll admit, I froze. This? This was what Alan had meant?"

Scott's hand was still on the small of my back, blocking my retreat, and he gave a gentle shove, forcing me to take another step into suddenly-hostile territory. The reminder that he was there actually helped. Gosh darn it, I'd out-bluffed Scott the day before. If I could hold my nerve against Big Brother, I could stand against anybody. And attack was the best form of defence. I straightened my shoulders, running a hand back through my hair in a flounce of frustration.

"Like I know how to care for an alligator? Caiman? Whatever!" I scowled, folding my arms across my chest. "I took it to… an expert to look after 'till Al gets back."

Twenty-eight days. I had a month at best. Would the rescue centre let me have the beast back? Somehow I doubted it, not after the fuss I'd made getting rid of it. It couldn't be that hard to find a replacement, surely? Unless Alan had taught the thing to answer to its name. Frankly, I wouldn't put it past him.

Except….

I expected Alan's reaction to be indignant and everyone else to calm down now the mystery was solved. Instead, the expressions that met my statement were… interesting. Relief sighed through the room like a cool breeze, and in all my years on Five, I'm not sure I've seen it come in so many different flavours.

"Oh, John!" Tin-Tin reacted first, her tone reproachful. "What's their number? I'll call them. Why spend money on someone when I could look after…"

"Now hold on, honey." Father found his voice before I was halfway to coming up with an answer. "John is right. What if you and the boys were all needed on a rescue?"

"It's happened before." Scott nodded gravely.

Virgil's brow furrowed into a frown as he backed our big brother up. "And, you know, Tin-Tin, Gordon has a point. If that… if Alvin got loose on the island wildlife…"

Gordon winced. Alan looked thoughtful but I didn't miss the flicker of hope on his face.

What was going on here?

For a moment or two, I was flummoxed. Then Alan raised a hand, rubbing at the bruise on his brow with unconscious discomfort. I don't think he even realised he was doing it. Gordon and Virgil flinched in unison. Dad and Scott followed the motion with their eyes, and I realised I was doing the same. The same memory was playing for all of us – Alan knocked unconscious and an alligator bigger than a house mere yards behind him. Maybe 'Alvin' was a pale shadow of that nightmare, but there were enough shadows in our lives. For once, without personalities getting in the way or a word being spoken, the entire Tracy family shared a perfect understanding.

Dad shook his head. "I'm sorry, Tin-Tin honey. I'm going to have to put my foot down. John… do you think your contact might manage to rehome…?"

"I think I can arrange it." I honestly don't know how I got the mixture of thoughtfulness and sincere regret into my tone.

"Gee," Alan managed to echo the former, his attempt at the latter was kind of painful. "That's too bad."

"Oh Alan…" Tin-Tin wrung her hands in distress. "He was your birthday present!"

"I'll really miss him." If there's one thing Alan has mastered without question, it's the hard-done-by martyr look. He pulled it now, on a father, grandmother, and four brothers who knew better, and an exotic beauty who lapped up every second of it.

Scott rolled his eyes, jerking his head to invite Virgil out to the pool side. Gordon tagged along, a mutter as he passed warning me he'd want the details later. Nice of him to give me the time to flesh out my story. Whether he knew it or not, I owed Gordy an apology I'd struggle to make good.

I turned towards the sleeping wing, heading for my room to 'call the expert'. If that involved catching up on a bit of missed shut-eye, then I sure wasn't going to complain.

"Hey, John." Alan's voice stopped me, calling from the monitor. "Thanks."

I drew in a deep breath, letting go the tension that had tightened my muscles since I left Five, marvelling at my sheer dumb luck, and keeping any hint of my bemused wonder from showing on my face. Shrugging, letting a confident grin spread across my face, I sketched a half wave towards the camera. "I said I'd take care of it."

If nothing else, a Tracy is a man of his word.

The End