The sound of water coursing over rocks filled my ears. The creek banks reached out with lush green vegetation as if to grab and hold me, and the warm June air was sweet with the smell of honeysuckle. The creek was small. Four good jumps and I could get across it, but the current was stronger here as the stream rounded a curve heading for the bridge. I looked down at my shoes. Shit, I forgot to put my old ones on. I watched the snake I had been following swim past me. I’ll be careful, I said to myself and jumped to a rock sticking out of the water in the middle of the creek. Catching my balance, I looked for my next step and the snake. The snake diverted around my rock and swam for the opposite bank. “Oh no you don’t!” I told the snake. He just kept swimming, so I jumped for another rock. My foot landed on the edge; the rock tilted sideways, sending me in, splashing. The water was cool as I sank up to my knee in it.
“Shit! And double shit!” Knowing I would get an ass whipping for this, I made a grab for the snake and missed. The snake hit the rapids, the water cascading over rocks, propelling the snake towards the low-water concrete bridge. If the snake made it to the culverts, I wouldn’t get it out.
I still had one dry foot and knew I wouldn’t catch the snake unless I got that one wet too. Shrugging, I took off after the snake splashing and laughing, and I grabbed the snake just before it got to the bridge. The snake turned to strike me, but I tossed it up on the bridge before it could. I hopped up onto the bridge, which was just a short jump, and stepped on it before it could slither off the other side. It turned and bit my shoe. A four-foot black snake, its scales slick from the water, glistened in the sun—Granddad would like this one. I bent down and picked it up.
“What you doing down there, kid?” A voice spoke behind me. I spun around to look for the man. “I’m over here, kid.” I turned to the right. I found him sitting on the creek bank in the grass under a big shade tree.
“Catching a snake for my Grandad. It almost got away. Sorry I got on your bridge, sir.” The snake coiled around my arm, while its tail wrapped around my waist. I could feel the power of the snake squeezing, and I tightened my grip on its neck just behind its head. “That’s a nice snake, kid. Get that thing out of here and come back when you are done.” The man was old; he had to be Walt. Everyone said to stay away from Walt, that he was trouble and a drunk, even if he was our neighbor.
“I’ll be back in a minute. I just have to take the snake up to the house and put it in a box. I live—”
“I know where you live. You’re that Walsh kid. Take your snake home and come on back here. Hurry it up, now.”
I ran up Walt’s driveway to where there was a hole in the fence between his property and ours, which was about two acres each, and climbed through, being careful not to lose my grip on the snake’s head. Black snakes aren’t poisonous, but their bite hurts. I ran across the field, the snake losing his grip from the bouncing, and up to the shed. Master, my giant German Shepherd, trotted over to see what I had.
“It’s a nice one, don’t you think, Master?” He sniffed the snake and wrinkled up his nose, baring his teeth. I laughed as I went into the shed and opened the box. Another snake started slithering out. “Ah! Get back in there.” I shook the box to knock it back in and added the new one, then looked back at Master. “I’ll take them down this evening. I know you don’t like the smell of them.” Master wagged his tail. I scratched his head and started back to the bridge.
On my way back to Walt, the water stopped squishing out of my shoes. Maybe they would dry before Maw knew about getting them wet. When
