Deviled Egg: FictionOn January 18, 2021 by Alyssa Barton
He would not have been my first choice for a gecko. His skin was brown
and spotty, and his tail was crooked, like it had been broken and
never properly mended. When I first caught Deviled Egg, he was a
little thing. I had been trying for days, my heart set on having a
lizard. The day before my momma and older sister, Janine, came out in
the backyard to persuade me to come inside.
“Daisy, you’ve been at this for days. You’ve scoured every inch of
that grass. There aren’t any geckos stupid enough to get caught,”
Momma said, a laundry basket in hand as she crossed the yard to pull
the clothes from the line.
“Yeah Daisy, were gettin worried about you. You’ve hardly moved in
hours and it smells like piss out here,” Janine stepped over to the
dilapidated shed and pulled her bike out, “Cmon, come for a ride. Me
and Suzy will take you down to the boardwalk to look for quarters.”
I didn’t answer but contemplated the thought. True, it did smell
like piss out here, and true, I hadn’t moved in hours, and true, I’d
been at this for days, but I was determined.
Janine snorted and rolled her bike to the front of the house, while
Momma finished hanging up the clothes. I tried to ignore the itching
on my legs from the chiggers and skeeter bites. If I was to pull this
off, I couldn’t move until I had my gecko.
It was getting on dark before I finally saw him. He was little, no
bigger than my pointer finger, and crawling up my arm.
I sat up, looked him right in the eye, and said “Well little bugger,
it’s your lucky day. How would you like to be called Deviled Egg?” I
cupped him in my hands and went running in the house to show Momma.