Rhonda liked snakes, sigmoid and coiled,
She’d go out to bag them in nature unspoiled.
Outcroppings of rocks and down by the creek,
She’d venture out herping at least twice a week.
Kingsnakes, bullsnakes, corn snakes, and more!
Even a baby rattler she found curled by the door.
With serpentine love, she was hopelessly smitten,
She had 26 and was never once bitten.
Venomous or not, she didn’t have a preference.
She exercised caution, kindness, and deference.
“I’ll always respect you. I mean you no harm.”
A mistake could result in a fang in her arm.
In her room, they kept warm in stacks of glass houses.
Maternally, she fed them lizards and mouses.
It’s a full-time job, raising 26 snakes.
But like any good mother, she said, “I’ll do what it takes.”
Rhonda studied her snakes and catalogued their habits.
She timed the drop of the mouse to see how fast they’d nab it.
Are they active by day, or are they nocturnal?
Impeccably-kept notes in a leather-bound journal.
On cleaning days, the snakes roamed freely around
But she inventoried them all to make sure they were found.
She laughed, “It’s a herpetophobe’s horrible dream!”
Snakes on the loose, or so it would seem.
She dreamed of bagging a Gaboon viper one day
Whose home was in Africa, so far away.
Despite two-inch fangs, Gaboons were known for docility.
The fastest strike in the world but prone to tranquility.
Such a disposition was also her own.
“Everything’s good as long as you leave me alone.
I’m not one for hissing or biting or drama,
But if you molest me, I will inflict trauma.”
The schoolkids were mean and thought Rhonda queer.
Her days at school were painful and drear.
They taunted, harassed, and generally disdained her.
She tried to ignore it, but the bullying pained her.
Her teacher, the ineffectual Ms. Blake,
Never once took her side or saw how she ached.
“Maybe it’s anxiety? Maybe depression?
I think you could use a therapy session.”
A boy named Asher made comments sexual and lewd.
“Do you get it on with the snakes like you would with a dude?
He flicked his tongue at her, with a growl and a hiss.
There was no snake on Earth as venomous as this.
At both school and home, joy was elusive.
Her stepdad was rageful and often abusive.
She had a little brother, a boy of just five.
Rhonda fed him and clothed him and kept him alive.
Her mother was loving, except when she wasn’t.
She says that she’ll leave, except when she doesn’t.
Sometimes, she’d scream, “I don’t want to live like this!”
But then she’d shoot up and slip into a gauzy white bliss.
The beatings persisted and became more severe.
From her bedroom, the smashing and bashing she’d hear.
Rhonda emerged from her room and found Mom on the floor.
She held her hand and said, “We can’t take any more.”
Nights become mornings, and days turned to weeks.
The misery persisted, and the future seemed bleak.
But don’t underestimate fate’s transmutation
And the possibility of our own liberation.
A late-night discovery of a website obscure
Gave Rhonda the chance to illegally procure
A bitis Gabonica, the viper Gaboon.
Suddenly, Rhonda’s life would change soon.
A few nights later, when her parents were drunk,
Rhonda quietly left and put a crate in the trunk.
“They’ll be passed out for hours. They won’t even miss me.
I’ll remember this night when destiny kissed me.”
Her contact was a man mustachioed and burly.
His manner was nervous, twitchy, and surly.
“You don’t have any money, so you’ll do as I say.”
Sex for a viper was the price that she’d pay.
At precisely the moment of his pure satisfaction,
She demanded the bounty of their brief interaction.
He handed her a box, under the silvery moon,
She saw the hourglass markings of the beautiful Gaboon.
Although the crate in the trunk was the much safer option,
Rhonda was tickled and thrilled with her new snake adoption.
She turned on soft music and cranked up the heat
For the stout languid serpent in the passenger seat.
The house was still silent when Rhonda got home at four.
She crept to her room and then closed the door.
She made things cozy for her cherished new arrival
And grinned with glee at hope’s new revival.
Only two nights later, the drug-infused slugfest resumed.
Her stepdad raged and he pummeled and fumed.
Her mother begged for mercy and importuned for a respite
But there was no relief given from the in-residence despot.
When her stepdad had finally collapsed into bed,
Rhonda comforted her mother who had a gash in her head.
She hugged her brother, too, who was wide-eyed, afraid.
She’d tolerate no more his innocence betrayed.
Once she had nursed them and nurtured them and fixed them some tea,
She said, “I’ll be back. Just wait here for me.
I have something to do, but I’ll return very soon.”
Then she went to her room to retrieve her precious Gaboon.
She held the snake gently, without any fear,
And said “There’s a good reason why you are here.”
The snake seemed to listen to the words that she spoke.
“I know you’ll never attack unless you’re provoked.”
Rhonda carried the viper to her stepfather’s bed
And laid her down carefully next to his head.
The snake would be placid until he awoke from his sleep
And then she’d sink her fangs in his face, two inches deep.
The venom yield is massive and causes a gamut of issues—
Vomiting of blood and necrosis of tissues.
Death from a bite is gruesome and bloody.
As you’re dying, maybe you can call somebody?
“Pick your favorite five things! We are going away!”
Rhonda said to her mother and brother that day.
“Don’t dawdle! We have little time we can spare!”
They were leaving, though Rhonda didn’t know yet to where.
Twenty-four glass houses Rhonda took out to the yard.
She freed all the snakes, although it was hard.
With heaving sobs, she bid them goodbye.
“I’m your mother! I love you!” she said as she cried.
She packed a pair of old jeans and her favorite keepsakes
As well as a couple of irascible snakes.
These rattlers were cantankerous, mean, and feisty.
A perfect surprise for those who couldn’t act nicely.
She wrapped them like gifts, with neatly-tied bows.
The contents inside, nobody knows.
Despite the rattling, they’d surely decide
To open the package to see what was inside.
Her stepdad still slept as Rhonda made the arrangements
For their brave escape and indefinite estrangement.
Rhonda asked, “Ready? We won’t be back again.”
Her mother nodded as the journey began.
As they pulled up to school, Rhonda said matter-of-factly
“One more thing to do. Ten minutes, exactly.”
The janitors opened the building at seven fifteen.
She could leave both of her gifts without being seen.
She went first to Asher’s locker, and left him a note.
“Remember you always” was all that she wrote.
In Ms. Blake’s drawer, where she kept her lunch and her purse,
Rhonda penned a note, written in verse:
“A gift for you, Ms. Blake, for teaching me how
To live in the present and embrace the now.
While I wasn’t your favorite, I think that you’ll see
I, too, can leave a long legacy.”
Rhonda rushed out to the car and pursued new frontiers
Leaving behind angst, blood, and tears.
Stories were told until new ones were written.
Forgiveness to all whose lives were snake-bitten.
Copyright Anthony Weeks 2017
The rivulet