| General Fiction posted May 28, 2013 | Chapters: |
...11 12 -13- 14... 
|
  |
Conclusion to Chapter 12, Part 1
A chapter in the book Rabbit
Snakes, Part 2
by bhogg
| Background The young boy, nicknamed Rabbit, learns his mother is having a baby. To make things easier on Mom, he and his older brother John are to stay the 1959 summer with Grandparents. |
Hanging around Virge was always fun. You never knew when you were going to learn something new. It looked like today, we were going to catch us a snake.
"Okay, Virge, I reckon a snake does have to eat. How are we going to catch it?"
Virge smiled before saying, "We. You make it sound like you're going to help old Virge."
"Sure, I'm going to help. I might as well learn how to catch one. You never know when I might have to catch another. We better get going though. I think Grandma was pretty anxious."
We headed back down to the big house. About half way there, Virge stopped by a scrubby persimmon tree. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his Barlow pocket knife and whacked a branch off. He trimmed top and bottom and then held it out and looked. "I believe this will be about right."
What Virge had was about a three foot limb that was straight, but had two trimmed off branches on the front end that formed a "V". It was maybe one inch wide at the base and tapered just a little on the "V" end.
As we walked on, Virge started his teaching. "Rabbit, what we got here is a snake picker-upper stick. The snake ain't poisonous, but he can bite. His teeth are small and they can't really hurt you, but you never know what's been in his mouth, so this here stick will keep him away from my hand. I'll trap his head underneath the "V" end and then just pick him up. That is, unless you want to do it."
"No, I don't believe I'll do it this time, probably best to learn how first."
"Virge said, "Yeah, it probably is best for me to do it this time."
As we got near the house, we saw my grandma. Dressed as always in her cotton dress, she was standing by the henhouse and pointing to the ground. "That damn snake is still there. I'm going in; do you want me to take the boy in with me?"
"No, ma'am, I'll keep him here with me."
"You are going to kill that snake, aren't you, Virge?"
"Well, Miss Louise, I'm definitely going to get rid of him for you."
She said, "Okay," and headed back toward the house. I was glad I wasn't directly between her and that house. I believe she'd have run me down.
As soon as she was out of sight, Virge approached the snake. Sometimes I can't believe how much he knows. Things went exactly like he said they would. Extending the stick, he trapped the snake's head and then reached down and picked him up right behind the head. The snake immediately curled back up around the stick. Once he wrapped around that stick, Virge trapped his tail end down with his other hand.
I practically yelled, "Virge, that is slicker than snot. You caught that snake, just like you said you would! How come he wrapped back up along that stick?"
Smiling, Virge explained, "A kingsnake is what's called a constrictor. He'll wrap himself around whatever he's after and squeeze it until its dead. Just think Rabbit, he's probably laughing and saying, lookee here, I done caught myself a big old Negro."
With a big grin Virge, asked, "Do you want to touch him?"
"Sure I do. I helped catch him after all." Walking over, I touched the snake. It didn't feel like what I thought it would. First, it was very warm. The skin was dry to the touch and you could feel the muscles moving beneath the surface. The black color accented by bands of white was striking.
"Virge, he's a beauty."
"Yeah, he is. Since I'm going to take him home with me, we ought to give him a name. What do you think?"
"Well, you got yourself a snake on a stick. It would sound kind of dumb to name him snake, so why don't we just name him Slick?"
"I like that, Rabbit. Just know he's your snake too. You go tell your grandma that I got rid of the snake. I don't see no good reason to tell her I took it home and put it under my house. You make sure you come by and see me before you go home to Alabama."
"You know I will. I'll have to check in on Slick." It seemed strange watching old Virge walking back to his house. It's not every day you see someone walking around with a snake named Slick, choking a stick.
*****
I told you earlier that it wasn't a great week for my grandma; first the snake, and now her new dog King.
My dog, Skippy, died earlier in the summer. I suppose he wasn't really my dog, since he lived there all the time, but he did seem partial to me. To most folks, the way you view a dog is related to its personality. Skippy had one in spades. We were both sitting on the porch one morning and I accidently rocked over his tail. It didn't make sense to apologize or nothing. It made more sense to run. Skippy chased me until he was able to bite my butt. Once he caught me and bit, it was all over. Justice had been done.
Skippy did have a bad habit. He would position himself in the ditch in front of the yard and bolt upright when cars came by. With a frantic yelp, he would chase the car for a few yards. Well, one day he caught one and was killed.
Grandma, finally found a replacement, who she promptly named King. He was a mix between a Boxer and a Golden Retriever. Grandpa and I both agreed, that rather than King, he should be named Peasant. My Grandpa called him piss-ant, which I suppose is French for Peasant .
King had a problem with cars too. He didn't chase them out on the main road, but when my grandma would back her 1949 Plymouth Deluxe Coupe out of the driveway, old King would bite at the tires all the way out of the driveway. She was afraid that she would run him over. He wouldn't chase Grandpa's truck, just the Plymouth.
Like my friend Virge Gates, my grandpa knew a lot about everything. He told me one day that King wasn't chasing the car at all. Seeing his behavior, I had to ask, "He isn't? It sure looks like he's chasing cars."
"No, Rabbit, you just got to understand dogs. He ain't chasing the car, he's chasing the full moon shaped, chrome, hubcap and biting at his reflection . I know how to get him to stop."
"What are you going to do, Grandpa?"
"It's really very logical. I'm going to tamp a towel behind the hubcap. When he bites at his reflection, he'll reach out and bite that towel. When he grabs it, he will be shook to hell and back. It'll teach him a lesson and he'll never chase another hubcap."
Grandpa set his experiment up. He got one of grandma's kitchen towels and tamped it in behind the hubcap. "Okay, Rabbit, you just watch what happens when I back up."
He got in the Plymouth and slowly started backing out. King burst out from under the house and started chasing the car. Grandpa gave it a little bit of gas. It looked like he was right, because King started biting at the hubcap. All of a sudden, his teeth engaged the towel. With a little growl, he hung on. His body did about a half twist, but his head pretty much did a full twist. Grandpa stopped the car, got out and took a look at King. He wasn't moving. Grandpa went over and touched the dog's neck. He was deader than a doornail.
Grandpa looked up and me and said, "Gosh darn it, we're going to have to tell your grandma that King is dead."
Rolling my eyes, I replied, "What do you mean we, Grandpa? It wasn't my idea, and I wasn't driving. I was just watching."
With a sigh, he replied, "Okay, Rabbit, I reckon it was my doing, I'll go tell Louisee. She loved that stupid dog, so I don't know what in the world I'm going to tell her."
Her name was Louise, but I noticed, at certain times, he called here Louisee. I reckon this was one of those times. He took his hat off and walked up to the front porch. He called out, "Louisee - come on out, there is something I've got to tell you."
After a moment, she walked out the front door. She was wiping flour off on her apron as she said, "What is it, Horace? I'm busy baking some blackberry pies. What's so important that I've got to come out here?"
Shuffling his scuffed shoes, he said, "I've got some good news and some bad news."
Exasperated, she asked, "Okay, what's the good news?"
My grandpa answered, "Well, we're going to save a lot of money on dog food."
All my life people have said that I inherited my grandpa's sense of humor. I'm not sure. That was just wrong.
"Okay, Virge, I reckon a snake does have to eat. How are we going to catch it?"
Virge smiled before saying, "We. You make it sound like you're going to help old Virge."
"Sure, I'm going to help. I might as well learn how to catch one. You never know when I might have to catch another. We better get going though. I think Grandma was pretty anxious."
We headed back down to the big house. About half way there, Virge stopped by a scrubby persimmon tree. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his Barlow pocket knife and whacked a branch off. He trimmed top and bottom and then held it out and looked. "I believe this will be about right."
What Virge had was about a three foot limb that was straight, but had two trimmed off branches on the front end that formed a "V". It was maybe one inch wide at the base and tapered just a little on the "V" end.
As we walked on, Virge started his teaching. "Rabbit, what we got here is a snake picker-upper stick. The snake ain't poisonous, but he can bite. His teeth are small and they can't really hurt you, but you never know what's been in his mouth, so this here stick will keep him away from my hand. I'll trap his head underneath the "V" end and then just pick him up. That is, unless you want to do it."
"No, I don't believe I'll do it this time, probably best to learn how first."
"Virge said, "Yeah, it probably is best for me to do it this time."
As we got near the house, we saw my grandma. Dressed as always in her cotton dress, she was standing by the henhouse and pointing to the ground. "That damn snake is still there. I'm going in; do you want me to take the boy in with me?"
"No, ma'am, I'll keep him here with me."
"You are going to kill that snake, aren't you, Virge?"
"Well, Miss Louise, I'm definitely going to get rid of him for you."
She said, "Okay," and headed back toward the house. I was glad I wasn't directly between her and that house. I believe she'd have run me down.
As soon as she was out of sight, Virge approached the snake. Sometimes I can't believe how much he knows. Things went exactly like he said they would. Extending the stick, he trapped the snake's head and then reached down and picked him up right behind the head. The snake immediately curled back up around the stick. Once he wrapped around that stick, Virge trapped his tail end down with his other hand.
I practically yelled, "Virge, that is slicker than snot. You caught that snake, just like you said you would! How come he wrapped back up along that stick?"
Smiling, Virge explained, "A kingsnake is what's called a constrictor. He'll wrap himself around whatever he's after and squeeze it until its dead. Just think Rabbit, he's probably laughing and saying, lookee here, I done caught myself a big old Negro."
With a big grin Virge, asked, "Do you want to touch him?"
"Sure I do. I helped catch him after all." Walking over, I touched the snake. It didn't feel like what I thought it would. First, it was very warm. The skin was dry to the touch and you could feel the muscles moving beneath the surface. The black color accented by bands of white was striking.
"Virge, he's a beauty."
"Yeah, he is. Since I'm going to take him home with me, we ought to give him a name. What do you think?"
"Well, you got yourself a snake on a stick. It would sound kind of dumb to name him snake, so why don't we just name him Slick?"
"I like that, Rabbit. Just know he's your snake too. You go tell your grandma that I got rid of the snake. I don't see no good reason to tell her I took it home and put it under my house. You make sure you come by and see me before you go home to Alabama."
"You know I will. I'll have to check in on Slick." It seemed strange watching old Virge walking back to his house. It's not every day you see someone walking around with a snake named Slick, choking a stick.
*****
I told you earlier that it wasn't a great week for my grandma; first the snake, and now her new dog King.
My dog, Skippy, died earlier in the summer. I suppose he wasn't really my dog, since he lived there all the time, but he did seem partial to me. To most folks, the way you view a dog is related to its personality. Skippy had one in spades. We were both sitting on the porch one morning and I accidently rocked over his tail. It didn't make sense to apologize or nothing. It made more sense to run. Skippy chased me until he was able to bite my butt. Once he caught me and bit, it was all over. Justice had been done.
Skippy did have a bad habit. He would position himself in the ditch in front of the yard and bolt upright when cars came by. With a frantic yelp, he would chase the car for a few yards. Well, one day he caught one and was killed.
Grandma, finally found a replacement, who she promptly named King. He was a mix between a Boxer and a Golden Retriever. Grandpa and I both agreed, that rather than King, he should be named Peasant. My Grandpa called him piss-ant, which I suppose is French for Peasant .
King had a problem with cars too. He didn't chase them out on the main road, but when my grandma would back her 1949 Plymouth Deluxe Coupe out of the driveway, old King would bite at the tires all the way out of the driveway. She was afraid that she would run him over. He wouldn't chase Grandpa's truck, just the Plymouth.
Like my friend Virge Gates, my grandpa knew a lot about everything. He told me one day that King wasn't chasing the car at all. Seeing his behavior, I had to ask, "He isn't? It sure looks like he's chasing cars."
"No, Rabbit, you just got to understand dogs. He ain't chasing the car, he's chasing the full moon shaped, chrome, hubcap and biting at his reflection . I know how to get him to stop."
"What are you going to do, Grandpa?"
"It's really very logical. I'm going to tamp a towel behind the hubcap. When he bites at his reflection, he'll reach out and bite that towel. When he grabs it, he will be shook to hell and back. It'll teach him a lesson and he'll never chase another hubcap."
Grandpa set his experiment up. He got one of grandma's kitchen towels and tamped it in behind the hubcap. "Okay, Rabbit, you just watch what happens when I back up."
He got in the Plymouth and slowly started backing out. King burst out from under the house and started chasing the car. Grandpa gave it a little bit of gas. It looked like he was right, because King started biting at the hubcap. All of a sudden, his teeth engaged the towel. With a little growl, he hung on. His body did about a half twist, but his head pretty much did a full twist. Grandpa stopped the car, got out and took a look at King. He wasn't moving. Grandpa went over and touched the dog's neck. He was deader than a doornail.
Grandpa looked up and me and said, "Gosh darn it, we're going to have to tell your grandma that King is dead."
Rolling my eyes, I replied, "What do you mean we, Grandpa? It wasn't my idea, and I wasn't driving. I was just watching."
With a sigh, he replied, "Okay, Rabbit, I reckon it was my doing, I'll go tell Louisee. She loved that stupid dog, so I don't know what in the world I'm going to tell her."
Her name was Louise, but I noticed, at certain times, he called here Louisee. I reckon this was one of those times. He took his hat off and walked up to the front porch. He called out, "Louisee - come on out, there is something I've got to tell you."
After a moment, she walked out the front door. She was wiping flour off on her apron as she said, "What is it, Horace? I'm busy baking some blackberry pies. What's so important that I've got to come out here?"
Shuffling his scuffed shoes, he said, "I've got some good news and some bad news."
Exasperated, she asked, "Okay, what's the good news?"
My grandpa answered, "Well, we're going to save a lot of money on dog food."
All my life people have said that I inherited my grandpa's sense of humor. I'm not sure. That was just wrong.
 Recognized |
List of characters:
Rabbit - young boy nine years old
Grandma Louise (on the father's side)
Grandpa Horace (on the father's side)
Grandma Nan (on his mother's side)
Pappy (Grandpa on his mother's side)
Virge Gates - 87 year old black man, Rabbit's good friend
Sugar Butts - Virge's nickname for his niece, Ms. Carry
Wesley - Rabbit's cousin
John - Rabbit's older brother and constant nemesis
Carol - First cousin, daughter of his mother's brother
Erin - Friend of grandparents, a live in babysitter for Rabbit
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. Rabbit - young boy nine years old
Grandma Louise (on the father's side)
Grandpa Horace (on the father's side)
Grandma Nan (on his mother's side)
Pappy (Grandpa on his mother's side)
Virge Gates - 87 year old black man, Rabbit's good friend
Sugar Butts - Virge's nickname for his niece, Ms. Carry
Wesley - Rabbit's cousin
John - Rabbit's older brother and constant nemesis
Carol - First cousin, daughter of his mother's brother
Erin - Friend of grandparents, a live in babysitter for Rabbit
You need to login or register to write reviews. It's quick! We only ask four questions to new members.
© Copyright 2024. bhogg All rights reserved.
bhogg has granted FanStory.com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
