Tim Dorsey - Gator A-GO-GO

“You got it.”

Students emptied trash and tools. Serge retrieved a duffel bag from the Challenger’s trunk and flipped down the pickup’s tailgate. He unzipped the bag and pulled out what looked like a giant plastic tarp covered with cartoon fish and octopuses.

“What’s that?”

“The commemorative revival of where it all started.” Serge laid it in the pickup’s bed, uncapped a clear tube and began blowing.

Nothing happened for the first minute. Students watched curiously. Then the plastic began taking shape, slowly unfolding itself with each breath, until it flopped open in a circle.

Serge continued blowing furiously. The circle began to rise. Serge began to slide down the side of the pickup.

“Serge, you’re hyperventilating! Take a break!”

Serge shook his head and clenched the tube in his side teeth. “Only way to inflate anything is all at once as fast as you can.” Blowing accelerated.

“Serge! Stop!”

“You’re going to hurt yourself!”

Bam.

“Serge fainted!”

Coleman ran over as air wheezed out the inflation tube.

Serge sat up with giddiness. “I see sparkly things.”

“Inflating stuff gets you high?” said Coleman. “I’m there!”

He took over where Serge had left off. Puffy cheeks turned scarlet. He fell on the ground next to Serge. “Sparkly things. Excellent.”

Students peered over the side of the truck. “A kiddie pool?”

Andy hid in one of the motel’s alcoves, dialing a cell phone. He put it to his head.

“Andy, what’s happening?” asked Agent Ramirez.

“I think Serge is inflating a kiddie pool.”

“Serge?”

“The lunatic I told you about.”

“I know all about Serge,” said Ramirez. “You have to get away from him immediately. He’s extremely dangerous.”

“I’m scared.”

“You should be.”

“What happened in Panama City?”

“Best to put it out of your head. The important thing is that you let me take you in. But we need to hurry.”

“Because there’s an informant.”

No answer. “Agent Ramirez?”

“I’m here.”

“Serge said there’s an informant. Is that true?”

“Yes. I’m so sorry. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.”

“Serge said if there’s an informant, then taking me in is the most dangerous time.”

“That’s why I’m personally going to escort you myself. I’ll be the only one you’ll meet.”

“You won’t have a giant SWAT team or something?”

“I shouldn’t be telling you this, but when there’s an informant, you never know,” said Ramirez. “That’s how they’ve been able to track you down the coast. I’m not sure who I can trust anymore.”

“Oh my God.”

“Andy, you have to keep it together just a little longer.” Ramirez looked out his car window at surf and palms. “I’m almost to Fort Lauderdale. Tell me where you are and I can pick you up in no time.”

Andy took a deep breath. “Okay, I can handle it.”

“Where are you?” asked Ramirez.

“Andy!” yelled Serge. “Where are you?”

“Shit!”

“Don’t hang up!”

Click.

Andy pocketed the phone as Serge came around the corner.

“There you are! What are you doing lurking back here?”

“Nothing.”

“Come on! You’re missing all the fun!” Serge looked left and right. “Just need to find a hose…”

Andy pointed behind the building.

“Glad to have you on the team.” Serge unscrewed the fitting and carried green rubber loops over his shoulder.

The rest of the students were waiting. Serge attached the hose to another nearby faucet and unrolled it back to the truck.

“You’re probably wondering, ‘What the heck is crazy ol’ Serge up to now?’ We’re at the finish line! All the way back to the beginning of our history quest! Or at least we will be when we get to the next stop.” He pointed the hose, and water splashed down into the bed of the pickup. “Spring break is one of the very few social phenomena where you can actually pinpoint the exact geographical location of its origin, latitude 26-06-59 north, longitude 80-06-19 west, the tiny bowl of primordial soup from which it bubbled to life. Now symbolized by our kiddie pool…”

Water reached the top of the first inflatable ring, then the second.

“… It all started just blocks north of here on the side of A1A when, in 1928, the city constructed the first Olympic-size pool in the state of Florida. It would have stopped there, except for the father of a student attending Colgate University in Hamilton, New York. Back then, they didn’t have many indoor facilities, and swim teams couldn’t practice in cold months.“ Water cascaded out the back of the pickup.”That dad was living in Fort Lauderdale and contacted legendary coach Sam Ingram, saying the team could gain an edge if they came down and worked out in Florida-”

“Serge, the pool’s overflowing.”

“And we’re in a drought. Another sign of what’s gone horribly wrong with society…” He ran and turned off the faucet, then quickly returned and pulled a Magic Marker from his pocket.

“Where was I?”

“Colgate.”

“Right. In 1935, the swim team came to practice in the Casino Pool, filled with comfortably warm saltwater from the Atlantic.” Serge reached into the bed of the truck and wrote something on the plastic. “Besides splashing around, they also enjoyed pristine beaches and an incredible climate that stood in stark contrast to what they’d just left. The very first spring breakers! When they returned to school, word spread. The following year: Why hunker down in snow when paradise awaits? More and more teams descended, and the informal practices turned into the massive annual College Swim Coaches Association forum. Non-athletes started joining the party, their numbers swelling steadily over the next twenty-five years until Where the Boys Are blew the roof off.“ Serge pulled a plastic specimen jar from his pocket and set it next to the pool.”Let’s rock!”

A Crown Vic with blackwall tires drove past the end of the street. Agent Ramirez opened his phone.

FORT LAUDERDALE

Serge’s convoy peeled out on A1A. “Remember to take plenty of pictures…”

A Delta 88 passed them northbound. Guillermo pulled up to an independent convenience store and went inside. He casually collected sodas and granola bars.

The man behind the register was bald with gray on the sides.

Guillermo set his purchases on the counter. “You the owner?”

The man nodded and began ringing up.

“Noticed your security cameras…”-pointing fingers in different directions-“… That’s the business I’m in. Make you a great deal on a new system.”

The owner scanned the bar code on a Sprite. “We like the one we got.”

“I know those models,” said Guillermo. “They never last. And when they go, you won’t find another offer like mine.”

“Thanks, but I’ll pass. That’ll be nine sixty-two.”

“Understand.” Guillermo pulled a ten-spot from his wallet. “But mind if I take a look at the monitors and recorder in the office anyway and see if I can work up a price? What do you have to lose?”

“I don’t think so.”

The ’73 Challenger turned off A1A and parked under a sign.

FORT LAUDERDALE AQUATIC COMPLEX.

Serge led the gang through yet another gate.

“Damn!” said Joey. “Look at the size of this place!”

Competitors triple-twisted off high dives and breast-stroked down lap lanes.

“Is that the Casino Pool?”

“No,” said Serge. “Fuckers demolished it in the mid-sixties.” He dipped a hand in the new pool and rubbed it on his neck. “This is its spiritual replacement, so we’ll have to make do. The cool part is that it’s open to the public for swimming.”