Prompt: The snake curled itself around my arm and hissed softly in my ear.
This entry courtesy of Timothy Forry
I pushed the curtain aside and looked out into the
audience. The crowd was small for a
Saturday afternoon. It used to be that
every chair would be filled, standing room only. Today, only ten chairs were occupied. I noticed a man with a bored look on his face
sitting next to a young boy who seemed more interested in the electronic device
in his hand than watching a sideshow attraction at a circus. An elderly couple sat in the front row. They were holding hands. Occasionally they would look at one another
and smile, as if they were reliving a shared memory. None of the other patrons were
remarkable. Most likely they just paid
the two dollars to come inside the tent to escape the hot August sun.
I looked at my watch.
Only ten more minutes. When I
took the stage I would become Veleno, the Snake Charmer. I’d played the role for forty years. When I first started, the crowds would look
on in awe. Little girls would scream as
Rini, my python, curled her smooth body around my leg, then my torso until her
oblong head peeked up over my shoulder. Now
that anyone could walk into a pet store and buy a boa constrictor or python; my
act seemed tame.
I let the curtain close and turned around. Rini stared at me. She knew what I was capable of.
I really am a snake charmer.
Not just a snake wrangler, like most other circus side-shows.
I first discovered the ability when I was very young. I might have been four, maybe five years
old. I grew in Nebraska on a large farm
in the middle of nowhere. There were no
other houses near mine. From the front
porch of my family’s farmhouse, wheat fields and cornfields stretched out to
the horizon.
One day, my oldest brother was chasing me through the dirt
in front of our house. He liked to beat
me. I didn’t like to be beaten.
I bolted for the cornfield.
It was July, the corn was already up past my head. The sharp-edge leaves cut at my cheeks as I
ran. My face was stinging. I kept running, even though my brother no
longer chased me. I had never run into
the cornfield and didn’t know about the old well. My vision was blurry, I was crying from the
pain of the cuts. I didn’t see the
broken boards covering the old well. I
remember falling, then sliding. The sun
disappeared.
When I came to a stop it was dark. I looked up.
There was only a pinpoint of light.
I heard a drip, drip sound of water from somewhere below. I was terrified to move.
But then, a song formed in my head. I
didn’t know where it came from. It was
not a song I ever heard. I began to hum
it.
Before long, I began to hear sounds coming from all around
me, like someone running their hand over rough wood. My eyes, adjusting to the dim surroundings
began to see movement. I looked above
me, the walls seemed to be moving. I
felt something wrap around my wrist and squeeze. I was jerked upward. I was being lifted out of the well, inch by
inch. As I got closer to the opening of
the well I could see snakes linked head to tail, slithering their way up the
steep side of the well, pulling me to safety.
I had never told anyone.
Never showed anyone the full extent of what I could do. Just enough to get a job with a traveling
circus.
It was time. I
pressed the “play” button on the stereo backstage, then burst through the
curtains. The elderly couple jumped,
startled. The little boy looked up from
his electronic device for a second, then went back to pushing buttons with his
thumbs. His father looked straight ahead
without reaction.
I raised my hands above my head. I heard Rini slithering on the stage behind
me. The elderly woman gasped. Rini slid past the inside of my left foot,
then encircled my leg, climbing up. She had
gotten so big. Her body was almost as
thick as my thighs. Her body wound
around my torso, she gave me a quick squeeze, like a hug, or a reminder that
she could kill me if she wanted.
The snake curled itself around my arm and hissed softly in
my ear.
I knew what she wanted me to do.
No, I thought.
Rini paused, leveling her face directly in front of me. Someone in the audience gasped. I felt a smile forming at the edge of my
mouth. Without thought of the
consequences, I began to hum.
After nearly twenty notes of the song, I heard someone
scream from the outside of the tent.
Then another. The sides of the
tent fluttered as I heard people running by.
The audience members looked around at one another. Someone in the back stood up and rushed to
the exit. He pushed the tent flap aside
and I could the movement of legs, people fleeing.
Then the snakes came.
They slithered under the sides of the tent, winding their way between
the chairs. The little boy screamed,
lifting his feet off the floor, dropping his device. He grabbed onto his father’s arm.
Soon, the whole floor of the tent was a writhing mass of
serpents. I stopped humming. The snakes raised their heads, they had
formed a semicircle at the foot of the stage.
I turned my head and gazed at them.
I smiled.
When I started humming again, the snakes moved as one, like
a giant sheet of scales and tails. Their
collective mass enveloped me. I felt my
feet leave the floor. I was riding a
wave of snakes. They plowed through the
tent wall, breaking into the sun.
I just kept humming.
I didn’t care who saw or heard. I
was free and I wouldn’t hide my gift any
longer.
Please tell me you were counting on me to show up and say, "You were becoming a snack."
ReplyDeleteThis story made me feel all slithery.
Every time I type the word "snake" or "snack" I hear your voice in my head and have to double-check that I've used the correct word.
DeleteSlither must have been the word of the day.