The snake just kept looking up at me and I at him. His slithery visitation on this crisp spring morning sent chills through me and I was paralyzed with fear. As I looked right into his dark cold eyes, an eternity passed by.
It wasn’t easy going to school. As a matter of fact, I hated it. Especially on spring mornings when I looked from my bedroom window and saw the dew covering the pale green leaves and the horses grazing in the distant fields. They looked so free and easy. I envied their not having to go to school.
The horses were my friends. I knew and understood each one of them well. I talked with them for hours, and because there were so many, we had endless conversations. I talked for them as they talked to me, and I helped them talk for each other. School took me away from my time with the horses and I hated sitting at a desk in a stuffy room listening to some lady telling me about homework which I knew I wasn’t going to do anyway.
Once while sitting in class I found a magical way to entertain myself: I took my crayons and made such a beautiful shape that I became entranced. I came upon it by accident; it was a kind of half moon/half tear drop shape with the most delicate and otherworldly color combinations I had ever seen. Somehow, the shape seemed to almost transport me to another place. And although I was sitting at the desk, the teacher and the other students receded into the distance, while I drew these forms over and over. It was as if I had discovered the key to an elusive mystery. These beautiful shapes gave me such a feeling of hope and joy that I would never forget this discovery. I was so taken with them that I hardly noticed the teacher looming over me, asking what I was doing and why wasn’t I paying attention. School was dull and the task of memorizing all of the lessons in the heavy books full of complicated information seemed impossible. Mainly I tried to avoid having the teacher know I didn’t do my lessons. But it was much better if I could avoid the whole thing altogether, and this is where the snake comes in.
On one spring morning the fields were glistening with dew mist. The warm morning sun, reminding me that summer was not far away, made it even harder to think of getting on that yellow school bus. As I noticed the smell of fish roe cakes cooking downstairs, I realized I had little time to think of some escape possibilities. Maybe I could fake a fall on the steep driveway. But I would have to produce an actual cut so I dismissed that idea. I then considered throwing water down the toilet with the intention of having it sound like I was throwing up, but I had tried that once before and my grandmother didn’t fall for it.
I slowly made my way down the steps taking much interest in the pictures on the wall down the staircase. On each step I stopped and looked at a moment in a horse show. Then I heard, “What’s taking you so long?
There was still enough chill in the air to be comforted by my grandmother’s wood stove. The fish roe cakes, fried eggs and biscuits seemed friendly, but my grandmother’s glare reminded me to eat them fast.
As I headed down the driveway, I considered walking just slowly enough to miss the bus. At the end of the driveway I sat on the usual rock beside the mailbox and waited for the dreadful bus.
Thinking I’d missed the bus and glancing down at the ground, I saw sitting right beside me, looking right at me, a long shiny snake. I was terrified and remembered hearing somewhere that you should remain still to avoid an attack. I remained frozen waiting for the snake to go away and for the bus to come. Neither happened. It seemed like an hour passed with the snake looking up at me and I at him.
His menacing eyes for some reason seemed less threatening than the bus’s eyes as it moaned around the corner and the snake slithered away. G&S
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