Goodbye Lizard King
September 16, 2022 – Safford, Arizona, USA
Jagger Webb’s mother was used to apologizing during parent teacher conferences. When she finally met his fifth-grade teacher face-to-face, the teacher greeted her with a surprised expression.
“Oh, so you’re Jagger’s mom,” the teacher blurted out. “You look so normal. Your son is, how should I put this, a very unusual child.”
“I know, I know,” his mother responded. “I’m sorry for the trouble I’m sure he’s caused.”
“I’ve never had a student so obsessed with insects and snakes and lizards. I don’t know where he finds them. He’s always got one in his hand.”
“I know. I’ve tried everything to get him to stop.”
“He wouldn’t be so bad if he could keep them to himself. But he wants to drop them on people. And he’s got that loud laugh. ‘Har, har, har!’ Like it’s the funniest thing in the world.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“The other kids hate it. I’ve taken away every privilege I can think of. He doesn’t seem to care.”
“It’s the same thing at home. I’m constantly threatening him and wiping away bugs. He’s my son and I love him, but sometimes I want to smack the smirk off his face.”
“I was hoping you had some ideas for me on how to modify his behavior.”
“I was hoping you might have some ideas for me,” replied Jagger’s mom.
“Like I said, I’ve seen a lot of kids. He’s definitely different and I’m at a loss for new things to try.”
“Is he always going to be this way?”
The teacher sighed and shrugged. “Maybe it’s a phase. Maybe he’ll grow out of it and get interested in something else. Maybe nature takes its course and he matures.”
“I’m ready. It’s been a very long phase,” Jagger’s mom said in frustration.
That evening, Jagger walked into his house from the backyard. He dropped a grasshopper on the kitchen counter, inches away from his mother’s hand. She suppressed a scream, knowing it was best to react as little as possible. “Please take that outside,” she said in a calm voice.
“Har, har, har!” Jagger laughed loudly, his red hair flopping in front of his face.
The grasshopper jumped to the floor. Jagger’s mom resisted the urge to screech as Jagger’s skinny arms flailed at the fleeing grasshopper. When it hopped out the open backdoor, Jagger’s mom took the opportunity to plead with her son for some cooperation.
“Tomorrow we’re meeting some new friends for a picnic. I need you to be on your best behavior.”
“Who are they?”
“The Jorgensons. I met the mother in my book club and we thought it would be nice to get our families together.”
“Do they have any kids?”
“Three, including a girl about your age. Her name is Heather. Maybe you’ve seen her at school. When we’re with them, please forget about the bugs and lizards for a while. Please. I need you to act like you’re interested in other things.”
Jagger laughed, but it was not his normally harsh, “Har, har, har!” It was a softer, nervous, “Ha, ha.” He recognized the name Heather Jorgenson. She was a grade older than he was. She was quiet and sweet, with long honey-brown hair and blue-green eyes. If Jagger could ever like a girl as much as he liked catching bugs, it would be a girl like Heather. He watched her at recess and knew which homeroom she was in.
Jagger could not explain why he liked looking at Heather, but he knew he should keep his feelings to himself. He had to especially hide them from his family. When he was around Heather at the picnic, he had to treat her like he would treat anyone else.
The picnic was set to take place at a nearby lake. Along with tables and shade pavilions, it was a place with plenty of habitat for creepy-crawlies. They could hide in the trees and dry grass or under the rocks and boulders surrounding the water.
Jagger’s family arrived first. His mom begged him again to be on his best behavior. If he wanted to hunt for tiny creatures, he should keep them to himself.
“Yeah, don’t embarrass us. Try not to act weird,” Jagger’s dad concluded.
The Jorgenson family pulled up before Jagger had much of a chance for exploration. He watched awkwardly as Heather exited her car. After some greetings, the grownups decided the festivities should begin with the food. They chose two tables and designated one for the kids and one for the adults. Then they pulled out plastic containers and paper plates.
Jagger and his two little sisters were pushed toward the kids’ table. They sat across from Heather and her two little brothers. Their parents disappeared to a table which was separated from the first by a thick pine tree.
Jagger did not say a word as he gobbled down his sandwich and potato chips. Heather politely and quietly nibbled her food. The younger kids stared at each other, waiting for someone to speak.
Jagger shot quick glances at Heather, hoping to think of something he could say to grip her attention. He lost patience when no words came to him. He picked up his paper plate and threw it like a Frisbee as far as he could. He figured she had to be impressed.
“You shouldn’t do that,” Heather said in a gentle voice.
“Why not?” demanded Jagger, happy she had noticed.
“It’s littering and you should recycle paper plates.”
“I don’t like to recycle.”
“You should. It’s important for the earth.”
Heather continued to talk about recycling and how she needed to remind her mom about it. Jagger liked the sound of Heather’s voice. He liked it so much, he knew he had to do something else to impress her. For Jagger, there was nothing more impressive than catching a big fat lizard.
“You like lizards?” Jagger asked, when Heather seemed to be done talking about recycling.
“Mom said you shouldn’t be catching lizards,” one of Jagger’s sisters reminded him.
“Mind your own business,” Jagger snapped back at her. He turned back to Heather. “I can catch a lizard as big as your arm.”
“No thank you. I don’t like them,” Heather replied with a frown.
“Why not? Are you scared of them?” Jagger let go of his “Har, har, har!” laugh, but it was milder than usual.
“I think they’re gross.”
In Jagger’s mind, there was no faster way to thrill Heather than to prove he could handle gross stuff. “Stay here,” he said to everyone at the table.
“You shouldn’t leave,” his sister warned.
Jagger ignored her. He hurried toward some flat rocks near his discarded paper plate. He flipped over the largest rock and lying in the sand was a six-inch long, green lizard. When confronted by someone as experienced as Jagger, the lizard had no chance for escape. With one quick motion, Jagger gathered it up and held it pinched between his fingers. The lizard squirmed, but Jagger knew how to keep a firm grip.
“Here, hold it,” Jagger said triumphantly, holding the lizard out to Heather.
“No, get it away from me!”
Jagger’s usual motivation for dropping lizards on people was dulled by his tender feelings for Heather. For her sake, he would keep the lizard off their table, but he could not simply let it go. He had to use it to keep winning her admiration.
“Okay, watch this,” Jagger said, putting a finger to his lips to show that all the kids should stay quiet.
“Just drop it,” Heather urged.
“No, this will be funny.”
Jagger crept around the pine tree separating the picnic tables. Heather and the younger kids followed. Jagger’s parents were seated with their backs to him, but Heather’s parents could see him coming. Heather’s dad watched with a nervous smile as Jagger held up the lizard and then dropped it on his mom’s shoulder.
As Jagger was about to uncork a loud, “Har, har, har!” the lizard leaped from his mom’s shoulder and landed on his upper arm. The lizard scrambled toward Jagger’s spine and headed groundward. When it reached his shorts, instead of finishing the trip down Jagger’s leg, it paused. Then it ducked inside the shorts and headed upward.
Jagger swallowed his laugh. His eyes bulged as the lizard reached his thigh. He squealed and danced.
Jagger’s parents turned around in time to see the lizard’s great escape. They giggled as Jagger danced. Heather’s parents joined in the giggling. Everyone from the kids table cracked up uncontrollably.
“What do I do? What do I do?” Jagger cried out as he grabbed different parts of his thigh. “It’s gonna go up my underwear! It’s gonna go up my bum!”
Jagger’s dad laughed so hysterically that he almost fell off the picnic table bench. As he gasped for air, he yelled at Jagger, “You gotta pull off your shorts!”
Jagger spun around looking for any spot with privacy. “Everyone will see!” The lizard made a sudden lurch up the back of Jagger’s leg and Jagger forgot about privacy. He fumbled with the button to his shorts before yanking them down, falling to the ground in the process. He landed on his stomach. The lizard scurried out of the shorts, which were now at Jagger’s knees.
“I saw it! It ran away!” one of Jagger’s sisters screamed.
“It lost its tail! It was scared too!” one of Heather’s brothers shouted.
Jagger remained with his face in the dirt. The laughter all around him did not slow down. He could distinctly hear Heather’s laugh combined with all the others. He pounded the ground in humiliation. His dad managed to calm down long enough to lean over Jagger sympathetically.
“Look, Son. I see the lizard’s tail. You want to keep it?”
“No. Everybody’s laughing at me.”
“We can’t help it. It was funny. C’mon, stand up and pull up your shorts. Maybe you can find a new lizard or something.”
Jagger did not move. A new kind of sensation swept over him. It was like he was seeing himself through some other person’s eyes. Heather’s eyes.
“I don’t want to find lizards anymore,” Jagger said quietly to his dad.
“You don’t? Well, that’s a new one. What are you going to do instead?”
“Recycling.”
“Recycling? Where did you come up with that idea?”
“Everybody knows it’s important for the earth. I want to do my part.”
Jagger’s mom stopped laughing but a bright smile remained on her face. Could it possibly be true? Had a new phase finally begun? “Bless that little lizard for hurrying nature’s course up,” she said to herself.
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