Tumbes

As Perusina, Perusino, and Franz walked through the Tumbes fish market early in the morning, something was not right.

No one was shouting prices. No one was laughing. Even the pelicans on the roofs waited unusually silently.

Doña Maribel stood in front of an empty stall, pointing to the ground. "Three crates of fish," she said. "Just vanished. And this is the third night."

Giant prints lay in the wet sand. Four toes, wide claws, with a drag mark in between.

"A crocodile!" shouted a vendor. "The crocodile from the Río Tumbes is robbing our market!"

Franz examined the empty fish baskets. "An animal with taste."

Perusina knelt beside the tracks. "Odd."

"What?" asked Perusino.

"Every print looks exactly the same. Even this small crack on the left claw."

Perusino placed his foot next to it. The print was almost three times as large. He then stepped backward into a bucket of fish water.

Splash!

Franz wrinkled his nose. "Now we have bait."

The tracks led from the market to the river. Not a single track led back. Between two prints, Perusina discovered a sharp edge, as if someone had pressed a plank into the sand.

Franz sniffed it. "Motor oil. Rope. Fish. And sweaty socks."

"A crocodile doesn't wear socks," said Perusina.

"Perhaps a polite one," Perusino suggested.

The following night, they hid among empty crates. Perusina lay behind a pile of nets. Perusino crouched under a table. Franz sat in a fish basket, quietly complaining about the view.

Shortly after midnight, two men crept into the market. On their feet, they wore wide wooden planks shaped like crocodile paws. Behind them, they dragged a sack across the ground. The drag mark looked exactly like the trace of a heavy tail.

"There are our crocodiles," Perusina whispered.

The men grabbed two full fish crates and ran to the river.

"Stop!" cried Perusino, jumping out.

One of the thieves knocked over a crate. Fish slid across the floor. Franz shot out of his basket, stepped on a mackerel, and slid across the market on his belly.

"On purpose!" he cried as he slid past.

The thieves reached a motorboat. Seconds later, it sped across the Río Tumbes.

Doña Maribel's brother untied his small fishing boat from the pier. "Get in!"

The chase led downstream. The thieves' boat disappeared among reeds and mangrove branches. Its light repeatedly appeared between the trees. Then it was gone.

"Which turn?" asked Perusino.

Franz lifted his nose. "Left! It smells of fish and bad socks there."

They turned. In front of them, mangrove roots swayed in the black water. Two eyes appeared between the leaves. Then a long, narrow snout emerged.

"Crocodile," Perusino whispered.

Only eyes and nostrils protruded from the water. The rest of its body remained invisible.

The crocodile swam past them. A piece of rope was clamped between its teeth.

"That belongs to the fish crates," said Perusina.

They followed it.

Around the next bend, a broken crate lay in the water. Fish floated among the roots. The crocodile had only followed their trail.

Further ahead, the thieves' engine sputtered. When they noticed the crocodile, they spun their boat around. In doing so, they ran aground on a shallow sandbank. The engine howled. The boat didn't move an inch.

The men jumped into the knee-deep water, intending to flee. But their wooden crocodile feet got stuck in the mud. First one stumbled, then the other. Finally, both were stuck, thrashing like two overturned beetles.

Shortly thereafter, the river guards arrived. In the boat, they found the stolen fish crates, the dragging rope, and four carved crocodile feet.

The next morning, the entire market knew that the Tumbes crocodile was innocent.

Doña Maribel gave the friends breakfast. Perusina received fruit, Perusino a large bread, and Franz a bowl of water.

"Water?" Franz asked, offended.

"You already smell enough like fish," said Perusino.

From the river, two eyes emerged from the water.

Franz carefully pushed his bowl towards Perusino.

"You need it more," he said.