I'm kind of minimally afraid of snakes. I mean, I guess I'd probably freak out if I had a surprise close encounter with an unknown species in the wilderness, but as long as I know I'm a safe distance, I kind of like to watch them. I like to look at them at the pet store. I have held non-poisonous ones in controlled environments. It makes me feel brave. I think they're interesting creatures. All this really has nothing to do with my story.
A few weeks ago, my dad, my uncle, my sister, and I were returning from my Papaw's visitation. My family lives in the country. I mean, the cowntry. So we pull into the long, gravel driveway in my dad's F150. We are in the woods. The sticks, if you will. He and my uncle are wearing suits. Katie and I are wearing dresses and heels. It's solemn. I remember being so emotionally and physically exhausted, I was almost numb.
Suddenly, the quiet, sad mood was interrupted as my dad slammed on the brakes and I flew forward into the back of the front passenger seat. "What the crap?!" No response. He threw it into reverse, and slammed on the accelerator, as we all sustained whiplash. "Daddy!" Uncle Gary could see what was going on, but Katie and I, in the backseat, were bewildered. Finally, after we had repeated this accelerate-brake-reverse sequence a couple more times, he mumbled "Rattlesnake." Except I thought he said something about a rabbit. Now I thought for a split second that my father was running over bunnies. I was mortified. What does he have against rabbits?? These thoughts were fleeting, though, because I suddenly saw what we were killing. Oh my gah. It was a 5-foot-ish rattlesnake.
Mike Arnold had no intentions of letting that sucker live. Suddenly, he grabs a pistol and jumps out of the truck. I see him raise the gun toward the snake, then he lowers it. He yells, "I can't see!" He comes back around the car door, and I see that his glasses are fogged up. I howled. Here is my dad, in a suit, trying to kill a snake at 11:00 at night, and his glasses are fogged up. It was hilarious. He wiped them off. They fogged back up. I laughed. He took them off; he still couldn't see. I was crying I was laughing so hard.
At this point, Katie has gotten out of the truck. She wants to see. My uncle is yelling at her. (My Uncle Gary will be the first person to tell you he wants nothing to do with a snake.) So he's yelling, "Katie! Get in the truck! Get back in the truck! He's not dead!" My father realizes that she is definitely within striking distance, and yanks her back toward the truck. Chaos. Yelling. Fogging.
Everyone gets back in the truck. We drive up to the house, and these two men on a mission go inside the house. I thought this ordeal was over, and I stayed outside to make a phone call. Moments later, daddy and Uncle Gary return with my other uncle and a shotgun. Please visualize this: 3 men in suits and ties walking side-by-side down a long, pitch-dark, gravel driveway with a shotgun and a spotlight. I cracked up again. A shotgun? Really? It's not a buffalo. It's a snake. But I guess they probably know more about snake-killing than I do. Who do I think I am? I wish I had a picture. It was very Men in Black, yet very Franklin County. I could not stop laughing. A couple of cousins came outside, and I couldn't even speak. I had been so sad all day, and I don't know if I was delirious or if my soul was in such need of a moment of happiness, but I couldn't stop laughing. My stomach hurt. I probably snorted. I'm sure the snake was dead. They, apparently, were not so confident. I watch them walk down in silence, out of sight.
BOOM!
Silent pause.
BOOM!
Footsteps.
The Men in Black reappeared, victorious.
Uncle Gary, the snake-hater, was grinning. "We made him a Christian."
Amen.
bahahahahaha. that was hilarious. i will add that the snake was dead when i got out of the truck.. i could tell because A. i was the only one that could see and B. he was split in half.
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