* This is a story I wrote about the experience with a neighbor and her "little problem". Haha, it was so funny, AFTER the fact, that I thought I'd share it with you.
A Snake in the Suburbs
Last Thursday morning, my neighbor, Kelli, called me. She was a little upset & asked if she could borrow a hoe. It seems she & her 2 year-old son, Jackson, were playing in the backyard & she stepped on a snake. Since her husband was out of town, she was scared & not sure what to do. I mean, we live in a suburb, not the frontier so snakes are not common. Before I could stop myself I had offered to shoot it for her. Thankfully, she declined but asked if I had a hoe. I could find neither a hoe nor the key to the shed so I gathered as many tools of destruction as I could locate & headed next door.
Picture this: my 5 foot, 1 inch (in heels) frame lumbering into a fenced-in backyard carrying an iron-headed rake, youth-size softball bat & pair of long-handled pruning loppers…wait – it gets better… Now, Kelli is a tall, slender, blonde-haired, former 1st grade teacher, maybe 25 years old, from a very sheltered, middle-class family in Marion, AL. She has little Jackson with her on the back patio. She’s pacing back & forth, staring worriedly at the back fence. I drag my “Soccer-mom Arsenal” into her yard & lay out all the would-be weapons on her table as we try to decide which would be the best item to begin the assault. We look at the rake & think the snake might slither between the tines so we set it aside…for now. I have the bright idea that one of us could whack it with the bat & the other could chop its neck with the loppers…but neither of us wanted to get as close to that thing to whack it as would be required with the 2 foot bat (remember, it’s a kids bat). What if we missed & it bit us in the eye? YIKES!
So she decided she’d take a swing at it with the 6 foot long metal-ended rake. I was strategically positioned on the back patio…BEHIND the 2 year old…I hadn’t seen this thing & didn’t have a clue how huge this monster might be. I wasn’t taking ANY chances! She picks up the rake & heads toward the back fence then remembers she has on flip-flops. She thinks it might be a good idea to hide the tootsies so she goes in & gets her tennis shoes. Looking back, I think she was stalling…
Properly shod, she again begins the hunt for the monster of the grasses. She goes to the right & cautiously peers around the slide – its last known whereabouts. No snake. Yay! He’s gone! Wait – NO! What if he’s in the house waiting for her? She keeps looking. She sneaks to the left (on tippy-toes the whole time, mind you) – THERE HE IS! She shakes a little from head-to-toe (so do I – from the patio, behind the toddler, remember), but determined to rid her yard of the unwanted intruder & protect her offspring from a potential attack, she moves in for the kill. She swings – she MISSES! She dances around as if struck by something herself. She regains her composure & swings again – CONTACT! She caught his tail & now he’s TICKED! The snake spins around, strikes out at the iron madness & coils up in the spring-loaded position ready to fend for its life. Kelli tippy-toe dances out of striking range & I see the nasty little serpent strike. I dance on the patio, grabbing the child - strictly for his own protection, you understand…
I yell, “Don’t go back in there! We don’t know how far he can strike & he’s MAD…I can shoot it!” (whatever gave me the idea that I could shoot a slithering, injured & half-crazed snake that was MAYBE 1 inch in diameter???)
She yells, “Are you a good shot?”
“I think so” says I. I mean, I’ve only ever shot inanimate objects on a firing range or in the woods but what’s the difference really, right? Insert nervous-laugh… Did I mention, I’m a genius with nerves of steel? Hang on, that becomes blatantly apparent…
“ok…” she seems to whisper as she backs away from the monster, as if trying not to alert him to our newest plan.
I giggle a little as I scamper home to get a gun. Partly from relief that I am away from that place of death & partly at the idiocy of the suggestion that I would shoot this creature. As I get to my back door I wonder, “What should I use on this thing?” The .22 would be perfect, but it’s in the gun cabinet. I hide the key from thieves that might break in while we are away so, naturally, I have no idea where that hiding place might be… The .380 handgun I keep close to me when I’m home alone crossed my mind & I laughed out loud at the thought. Even in the midst of the wild hysteria, I knew that was a silly thing to use on a snake. I decided to call on my cavalry, Todd (who is conveniently at work, the jerk!), and ask him. He confirms my guess that the .22 would be ideal & tells me it’s loaded with lead-tips in the gun cabinet. Somehow I find the key to the cabinet in the hiding place that I forget about most every other day of my life & obtain the cool steel equalizer. With the wooden stock buried in my armpit so tight it makes popping sounds when I move, the huntress returns to the field…
Now Kelli, is standing on the patio, holding little Jackson & staring absentmindedly in the direction of the last encounter. She seems older now…26, maybe? I walk into the yard & must be a menacing sight indeed, as she furrows her brow a bit & bites at her lip. Probably beside herself with relief that I will obviously vanquish this foe…I see the snake at the fence line & begin to walk toward it. Halfway to the battle site I remember I have to chamber the first round. This buys some time…I run back to the patio & yank on the loading thingy. The first round is ready & there’s no turning back. Crap! Ok, here I go into the fray. I see the snake. He taunts me with his wiggliness. I tell myself that I’m not afraid, but I’m not buying it. I pull the gun up to my eye, sight him in and someone pulls the trigger…BAM! I hit him! What the --?? He whips back & forth. Blood spatters the fence. I tippy-toe dance around like a possessed ballerina screaming & flapping my arms – forgetting there’s a loaded gun at the end of one…
Kelli screams “You got him!” Her eyes bulge with equal doses of fear of the snake & fear of me with a loaded gun. “Is he dead?”
I don’t know so of course I shoot blindly in his general direction 2 more times. Dirt flies around but the snake is not moved. I steady myself & aim again. BLAM! I hit him again…more tippy-toe dancing & arm-flapping. I feel sick to my stomach. I shoot 2 more times. Why? I don’t know. Maybe I feel that will calm me…it doesn’t. Kelli says, “It still moving.” There’s fear in her words, but somehow a rational thought breaks into my mind. Snakes’ nerves move the body around after they are dead. Maybe he’s dead & it’s some kind of corporeal response? I mean, his little head is hanging on by a thread…I stand over the writhing carcass, swallowing hard so I don’t pass out. I aim & shoot one last time. The bullet pushes the snakes neck into the ground so its now staring up at us…More tippy-toe dancing but this time I remember the gun – no arm-flapping. Weak in the knees & about to vomit, I stagger back a little. Kelli comes over now with Jackson. Pointing at the body of our enemy, she tells him how nasty snakes are & reminds him never to play with them. The boy is obviously impressed with my shooting ability because his mouth is agape & he looks from me to the snake then back to me.
Still wiggling a little (his head is staying stuck in the ground) the snake opens its mouth repeatedly. Disgusted, I turn & there is Kelli armed with the rake. Kelli is not convinced that he is dead. She wants to pin it down with the rake & cut off its head. By now the head is chin-up but the body is tummy-down. It’s dead. She goes for the loppers…I faint or something because the next thing I remember I’m on the patio with Jackson. Kelli is there with the bloody loppers. She’s mumbling something about how tough that snake’s skin is. I faint again. I come to standing over the body. I need to sit down.
As I dump the rest of the bullets into my hand we discuss disposal. I tell her Todd threw ours over the fence (did I mention that we had a snake in our backyard last year? We did. Todd didn’t kill it. He threw it over the fence…this is probably the same snake…I want to hurt Todd). She wonders if it will smell. I state that something will come & eat it long before it starts to smell. She is horrified at the idea that whatever comes to eat it may be bigger & meaner & I may come back with another gun. She thinks she’ll put it in a bag & take it to another location in our neighborhood where they are building more houses. Rewind! Did you hear that? She is going to PUT IT IN A BAG & PUT THE BAG IN HER CAR - WHAT??!! I just risked life & what’s left of my limbs to kill this thing & now she’s going to take it for a little scenic drive in the country? I get woozy again. I gather my yard implements & sporting gear. I need a drink.
As I walk away, we are laughing uncontrollably by now. About to wet myself from fear, mingled with pride, relief & horror at the whole thing, I head home. Kelli, yells out behind me, “Mary you’re my hero!” Then we break down laughing again…Where is a camcorder when you need one?
© 2008 Mary Hughes Walker
