Tim Dorsey - Gator A-GO-GO

“How can he lie so completely and get away with it?” asked Eunice.

“Maybe he won’t,” Serge said with a grin.

“What do you mean?”

“How’d you like to have some fun?”

“We ain’t never stopped havin’ fun.”

DAYTONA BEACH

Hotel business center.

Agent Ramirez tapped computer keys and opened his e-mail. An hour later, a cursor slid over “Serge Commencement #2.”

The video opened with a post-event interview of the principal at police headquarters:

“Said he was a children’s author?” asked a detective.

“That’s right.”

“And you didn’t sense anything was wrong?”

“Claimed to be an alumnus, even knew the old playground layout,” said the principal. “And that was years ago before it was replaced. There’s this advanced new safety padding under the teeter-totters in case someone plays a prank and jumps off-”

“I’m sure it’s a fine playground. What about his commencement address?”

“That’s why we started wondering. But whenever we thought, ‘Where the heck is he going with this?’ it snapped into place. By the time we finally caught on, he was already waving good-bye.”

“This is most important of all,” said the detective. “Any indication where he might have been going? Someplace we can pick up his trail?”

“When we ran outside to watch him drive away, I got the impression he was living out of his car.”

The detective massaged his forehead. “How are the kids holding up?”

“Not too good,” said the principal. “Most of them keep crying because he isn’t their first-grade teacher next year.”

The video became static, then flipping vertical lines, which soon cleared to reveal the view from a camera tripod in the back of a packed cafeteria. Drone of conversation. Hundreds of crowded parents taking snapshots from a sea of folding chairs. Up front, rows of cute tots in white caps and gowns. Serge pushed his way to the stage, where an active microphone picked up conversation.

The principal reviewed notes behind the podium. A tap on his shoulder. He looked up. “May I help you?”

“I’m the commencement speaker.”

“We don’t have a commencement speaker.”

“They didn’t tell you?”

“Who are you?”

“Serge A. Storms, bestselling children’s author and legacy, Kinder Kollege class of ’67.” He extended a hand. “You must be the Principal Adams I read about in the paper. Great job you’ve done with the playground.”

“Who’s this guy with you?”

“My illustrator.”

“They didn’t tell me about a commencement speaker.”

“Everything’s okay now. I’m here.”

Fast-forward…

Parents and children politely clapped as two men walked onto the stage. Coleman sat in a chair next to the podium, and Serge grabbed the mike: “Good morning!”

“ Good morning! ”

“This is Coleman, my illustrator.” Serge opened his manuscript. “He’ll be helping me today as I read from my upcoming blockbuster, Shrimp Boat Surprise … Prologue: Once upon a time there was a little girl named Story, bobbing along the sea in a big, happy shrimp boat…”

Coleman held up a crude drawing of a boat and a smiling stick figure with too many arms.

“… Story had dreams of being a dancer. As she grew older, she never let those dreams die. And guess what? Those dreams came true!…”

Coleman held up a drawing of a larger stick figure doing a split on a catwalk.

Parents exchanged confused looks.

“… And her dreams just kept getting bigger!…”

Coleman raised another sheet of paper. A stick figure swung around a fireman’s pole.

Serge glanced up at growing murmurs. “Guess you’re right. Still needs editing.” Serge closed the notebook and began his trademark pacing across the stage.

“What a special day! I see you all can’t wait to get out there in the workforce, make 401K contributions and drink lots of coffee. But I know what you’re thinking: My legs are too short to drive. So you still have twelve more years and hopefully college. Use them wisely. Remember the bestselling book that said, ‘Everything you need to know about life you learned in kindergarten’? Well, he lied. Everything you really need to know about life you learn in prison, but that won’t be practical for a while. You don’t want to go to prison yet, do you?”

Little heads swiveled side to side.

“Who’s over there nodding ‘yes’? That is so pre-K. You think this is a joke? Take a look at my illustrator…”

Coleman smiled and waved.

“… The most important contribution you can make now is taking pride in your treasured home state. Because nobody else is. Study and cherish her history, even if you have to do it on your own time. I did. Don’t know what they’re teaching today, but when I was a kid, American history was the exact same every year: Christopher Columbus, Plymouth Rock, Pilgrims, Thomas Paine, John Hancock, Sons of Liberty, tea party. I’m thinking, ‘Okay, we have to start somewhere- we’ll get to Florida soon enough.’… Boston Massacre, Crispus Attucks, Paul Revere, the North Church, ‘Redcoats are coming,’ one if by land, two if by sea, three makes a crowd, and I’m sitting in a tiny desk, rolling my eyes at the ceiling. Hello! Did we order the wrong books? Were these supposed to go to Massachusetts?… Then things showed hope, moving south now: Washington crosses the Delaware, down through original colonies, Carolinas, Georgia. Finally! Here we go! Florida’s next! Wait. What’s this? No more pages in the book. School’s out? Then I had to wait all summer, and the first day back the next grade: Christopher Columbus, Plymouth Rock… Know who the first modern Floridians were? Seminoles! Only unconquered group in the country! These are your peeps, the rugged stock you come from. Not genetically descended, but bound by geographical experience like a subtropical Ellis Island. Because who’s really from Florida? Not the flamingos, or even the Seminoles for that matter. They arrived when the government began rounding up tribes, but the Seminoles said, ‘Naw, we prefer waterfront,’ and the white man chased them but got freaked out in the Everglades and let ’em have slot machines… I see you glancing over at the cupcakes and ice cream, so I’ll limit my remaining remarks to distilled wisdom:

“Respect your parents. And respect them even more after you find out they were wrong about a bunch of stuff. Their love and hard work got you to the point where you could realize this.

“Don’t make fun of people who are different. Unless they have more money and influence. Then you must.

“If someone isn’t kind to animals, ignore anything they have to say.

“Your best teachers are sacrificing their comfort to ensure yours; show gratitude. Your worst are jealous of your future; rub it in.

“Don’t talk to strangers, don’t play with matches, don’t eat the yellow snow, don’t pull your uncle’s finger.

“Skip down the street when you’re happy. It’s one of those carefree little things we lose as we get older. If you skip as an adult, people talk, but I don’t mind.

“ Don’t follow the leader.

“Don’t try to be different-that will make you different.

“Don’t try to be popular. If you’re already popular, you’ve peaked too soon.

“Always walk away from a fight. Then ambush.

“Read everything. Doubt everything. Appreciate everything.

“When you’re feeling down, make a silly noise.

“Go fly a kite-seriously.

“Always say ‘thank you,’ don’t forget to floss, put the lime in the coconut.

“Each new year of school, look for the kid nobody’s talking to- and talk to him.