August 21st 2009 (part iii)

I should have been paying more attention. I wasn’t looking around with inspired awe at every aspect of my surroundings. I can’t give a very apt description of where we had found ourselves because I was so enthralled by a singularity. My surroundings were lost to a specific terror that laid out in front of my eyes. I can remember that it was cement stadium seating. Perhaps a crowd of thirty watched on with the same awe and terror as I. A Thai man, perhaps mid-thirties, tall and lanky, stood on a long cement island that jutted out from the two-three foot pool that surrounded him. It was about a quarter the size of an ice-rink, the exact same oval shape, with the same flimsy walls used to support those of us with weak ankles. Surrounding the mad-eyed lunatic were, at least, forty mid-sized to mammoth looking crocodiles. The man kept shouting out short bursts of who knows what in Thai. Immediately following every announcement he made, a similar voice would come up over the P.A. system and echo his thoughts in the same manner. I imagined they were having some sort of witty banter. A frenzied psycho and his hidden accomplice. Although it seemed more like the brainsick man was giving his last will and testament. One can only hope you’d give your last goodbyes before harassing a 10-foot prehistoric beast. He would crouch down, inches from impending death, and splash the yellowish water all over his face and body. I assumed this was to hide his ‘human’ smell, if you saw this water though, ughk! I would turn tail and get my ass out of that death pin in a heartbeat before I thought of drenching myself in their yellowish urine-croc water. After drenching his body and his red silk basketball get-up he’d splash with fury the stinking water all over a waiting crocodile. You almost had to see his next action to believe. He’d grab the giant by the tail. The monstrous leathery and muscular tail and literally drag them onto the island. Maybe I should repeat myself so it’s clear. He waded, time and time again, into crocodile infested waters and dragged them out by their tales. They weren’t entirely complacent either. He’d grab a larger one and it would struggle against his might. The strength needed to move one of the brutes must have been great, not to mention the fortitude needed not to crap your pants at any moments hesitation. A few of the crocodiles wouldn’t have it either. They struggled so violently that he’d give up, and move to a more complacent one. I, still to this day, can’t figure out why they didn’t just, literally, tear him a new one to stop his harassing pullings. Sure enough, he eventually found an 8-foot myth that suited his stylings, and dragged it to the middle of the island. What he proceeded to do next can only be called sheer madness. This man needed to be locked away for his own protection. Ranting and raving the entire time, with his cohort echoing every shout, he splashed the creature down, assumingly tormenting it until it opened its giant jaws. Apparently crocodiles are like old-men in the pool, they don’t like splash fights. He then splashed down the cement island and proceeded to drag off the five or so crocodiles that had tried to take refuge from the stinky water and crawled onto dry land. His pathway clear, he started shouting madly, waving his arms about and drenching his face, one last time, with the stink water. The moment of realization set in quickly, oh god no, was he about to do what I couldn’t even imagine. Before I could scream ‘don’t, please, no, don’t do it!’ he took off running towards the beast. Did anyone ever play with a ‘crocodile mile’ as a child? This gives a whole new meaning to the phrase. He slid on his belly some 20-ft., head first mind you, into the open jaws of the crocodile. I try not to curse to much, there are better uses for vocabulary, so excuse me as I digress. ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!!! His slide was stopped from his head ramming into the throat of the awaiting jaws. I kid you not, I lost it. He proceeded to stick his head in the jaws, pick up a few and hug them like teddy-bears. He even shoved his fist and arm into the crocs throat until his shoulder all but disappeared. I can’t reiterate enough, these were wild animals, you could tell the ones that were dangerous because he never took his eyes off them. A few did not take kindly to his body even approaching them. I don’t know if they fed them all to the point of bursting, or if they were on crocodile oxycoton. Something about this man allowed him the bravery, and the creatures the calmness, to allow for horrifying sights to ensue. The care-free attitude he had was ridiculous. I came to find out later that there had been a horrible accident a few months earlier at the park where an employee was bit as his stuck some appendage into the jaws. Inevitability is a bitch. Tipping him, I thought the show was over, ‘buddy, you deserve a lot more than what they’re paying you’. Min came to tell me that the man believes he has magic powers to subdue the crocodiles. I lost it again. That’s what kept the things from eating him. Magic? I need to pay more tribute to the unknown. I almost didn’t do the next part. I consider myself a daring person at times. Perhaps even a little stupid thrown in the mix. But fear almost overcame my desire to get a picture next to one of the monsters. After paying the $3 fee I came to find out the picture wasn’t ‘next’ to the creature, but on top of it! Watching that line slowly fade was murder. About 6 people in all volunteered for the death task, you better believe I was last in line. I remember when it was down to me and an Australian man we both looked at each other with that ‘are we really about to do this?’ look. No incidents so far, some times life throws you problems of judgment, and you just have to say F’ it. I knew the monsters wanted to bite me, the employees were actually very careful to ensure we followed a tight line and didn’t wander too close to the infested waters. I didn’t trust any of my surroundings. My brain no longer trusted its own judgment. I was about to sit on a killing machine, I’ve seen that ‘death roll’ way to many times on TV to not be struck by utter panic. As I approached it you could see it breath, they seemed so lifeless before. So mechanical and evil. You could watch their giant chests retract and expand with remarkably quick significance. It almost panted like a dog...It was so soft, so worldly soft it surprised the hell out of me. It wasn’t a leathery spiny abortion, it was soft and spongy, the large crests on its back gave easily to my weight. It felt like a giant bean-bag full of dough. If I had closed my eyes I might have thought myself sitting on a body pillow. No sight in hell could make me close my eyes at this point though. I was living on a cloud, sitting on a being that had outlasted the dinosaurs. That hadn’t needed to evolve since it became perfectly balanced and adept at killing millions of years ago. This was something time had forgotten, this was a beast that terrified me so thoroughly. I never knew that I still had that portion of my brain. It must be leftover from our days as hunter gatherers. Far beyond ‘fight or flight’ this was ‘run run run’. I wasn’t frozen in time. It eclipsed that. It wasn’t fun but it wasn’t scary. It was a new emotion that normally only finds you in an instant. I was trapped in that moment you get as you loose control of your vehicle. As you find a spider in your shoe. As you begin to fall off your bike. That utter terror that, more or less, says, plainly, uh-oh... A minute felt longer than a day. My life felt like it couldn’t get any more surreal.