To Capture the Turtle

To Capture the Turtle
by Luminous1

Word count: 989

The Turtle, slow, precise, and clever. He had taken his calculating, dangerous toothless jaw to the Baltimore Zoo. I saw him, gliding across the pavement into fake palm trees. His bony body moving at a sluggish pace, believing no one would ever catch him. I ran after him, but the Turtle was clever. He threw or rather, throttled himself into the brush, and blended into the background, like a piece of grass in a field.

My eyes scanned, but he was nowhere to be seen. All that lay before my eyes was a lowly Giraffe eating grass, a woman fainting from the heat, or as if the sight of the wanted Turtle, and a man holding a Canon D40 taking pictures.

I called for backup, knowing the Turtle was too much to deal with alone.

Moments later, dozens of men in SWAT outfits arrived, their dark blue outfits sticking out like a pink bandanas in the summer daylight.

“Sir, what do you have?” The man asked.

“The suspect entered the shrubbery at 0231 hours. The suspect, in question, is highly dangerous. He is wanted in ten states for theft, destruction of property, and murder.”

“Murder sir?” The SWAT officer's face turned white, like someone had smacked him in the balls with a rifle.

“Yes, murder. Pull it together soldier! This is a military operation, it's a Turtle dammit.” I slapped the man upside the head and his face gained its color. “I want your men to search the perimeter. When you find the suspect, do not under any circumstances interact with him. Hold him down until I arrive, do you understand?” The SWAT officer nodded, his determination present in his focused eyes and stiff position. “Well, get to it officer.”

“Men,” he yelled. “cover the perimeter.” Dozens of officers surrounded the palm trees, the guns in their hands clattering.

The surrounding spectators were forced to leave the area. At the sight of a gun, one man waved his hands around and around, nearly falling into the lake of alligators, paces from his step. It was too dangerous to allow citizens near the danger.

After an hour, the zoo officials had filed the citizens out of the area. The situation controlled, but the troublesome pest was well hidden.

My officers searched within the 0.10 mile radius of the palm trees, repeated the process, and repeating it several times over, but the turtle was not in the perimeter. They guarded around the perimeter, awaiting the moment the Turtle revealed itself.

Watching the scene, I wondered how the Turtle had kept secret. At the murder scene, the male victim, age 41, had a single bite mark on his neck the size of an apple. I had seen it with my two eyes. Turtles did not have teeth, nor did they have sharp claws. It was impossible.

After ten hours of waiting, the men were getting tired. The moon was high in the sky, and the turtle could easily escape the moment the officers lost their senses. Their eyes were drooping. The officer in the left quadrant was leaning upon the tree next to him, his head down snoring. The officer behind smacked him on his lazy ass. He didn't fall asleep again.

The Turtle, slow and precise I thought. He was waiting, waiting for the moment our eyes were shut and are guards were down. The clever bastard.

“SWAT move out,” I said.

“Excuse me sir.”

“Move out, go to bed.”

“But sir, the perpetrator is still in there somewhere.” Even in the dark, it was obvious his eyes were half-open and his posture slouching. It was enough to prove his exhaustion.

“I will handle it. Go home, and that's an order.” The men filed away and I caught grins tugging on their tired faces.

Once silence returned to the zoo, I tip-toed forward, positioning myself beneath a bush only a few paces from the Turtle's position. I allowed my eyes to lock on the palm trees. I did not move or speak, attempting slow breathing until the Turtle revealed itself.

For what felt like hours, I stared at the palm trees. It was dark. My eyes were getting heavy, my head slumping into my hand. The grass was itchy, like I had sat in a pile of poison ivy. I re-positioned myself sitting upon the tree trunk beside me. I allowed my head to rest, the heaviness leaving my head.

Then, my eyes drooped. I blinked in quick procession, attempting to rid the heaviness from my eyes. But it did not go away. Every moment I did not stay one hundred percent focused, I caught my eyes lowering.

Finally, I could not take it. I told myself, I would close my eyes just for a moment, then I would open them and continue my watch. Allowing my eyes the pleasure of shutting, the bowling balls weighing them down left and I felt a calming satisfaction run through me.

I awoke to the sun shining upon my eyes, my head had fallen into the dirt, and my arm was being crushed by my upper body.

I shook myself awake, realizing in my stupidity, I had fallen asleep. I ran to the fake palm trees, searching the area. The damn Turtle was nowhere to seen. Slow and precise, I thought. Maneuvering myself into a lower position, I searched again attempting to move like a Turtle. A grown man crawling on all overs, a memorable sight to an outside observer.

I crawled into the palm trees. My eyes deceived me. I discovered beneath it the opening of a sewage tunnel, a long and dark tunnel, ending at the other side of the zoo. Slow and precise, I thought. No, the Turtle was just damn clever.