When I was a young girl, my
parents bought a farm south of here. I
was in 4th grade, my brother Wayne
was in 5th. In Nov the pecans
were ready to be picked up, but there were too many dead limbs under the big
pecan tree. One day Mother put Wayne and
me to work clearing out those limbs. Now it was hard work, but mainly I didn’t
like doing it because it was just so boring, picking up the dead branches and
going back and forth between the tree and the gully dragging and carrying the
limbs. Little did I know that job was going to be anything, but boring. Wayne had drug a big limb
into the gully and I was a few steps behind when he stopped dead still and yelled
get the gun! At our house that was short
for there’s a snake. I shot off to the house yelling for mother to
get the gun. Daddy was at work. She quickly loaded the 22 with 2 bullets and
we were back at the gully in a flash. Wayne was still frozen
and had not moved a muscle. She took one
shot at the coiled up rattler and missed. She aimed again with her only bullet
left, and hit it just below the head. It rattled as it spun up in the air a bit
and fell dead. Turned out it was a 4ft velvet tailed rattler, very rare around
here and the only one we ever saw. Daddy
was so proud of Mother he took that snake the next day out to the drilling rig
where he worked to show all the men he worked with. She had never even shot a
gun before we moved there 3 months earlier.
Now I’ve thought about that
day a lot of times through the years.
That snake, because of his nature was coiled and ready to strike. He was not a friend. Wayne, probably with everything in him wanted
to turn and run, but we had both been drilled over and over if we ever came
upon a snake that was ready to strike do not move, stay absolutely still. Wayne
was helpless in that moment. He could
not do anything to save himself. I could
not save him. I could only get Mother,
but even she had no power to actually stop that snake from striking Wayne . She said it was God that killed that
snake.
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