The Bull Snake
Lately I have been reminiscing about my childhood days for some reason. I posted a true story about a tarantula yesterday. Today, my brother’s comment about my bull snake on his something I posted, made a funny memory come to mind. For people who don’t know, bull snakes are common in Oklahoma and can grow to 6 feet or better. They live out in the plains and are easy to spot as they slither across the fields because they are so long. They can be vicious, but are not poisonous, perfect for scaring mommas and girls with. Actually it has been my experience that most females of the human species do not care for snakes…the bible explains why…but I digress.
I caught this bull snake whilst out playing in the prairie, saw him from a distance all spread out and slithering. So I came up on him and he balled up and gave his most ferocious rattlesnake imitation- head S shaped and hissing and his tail fluttering as he drew himself in his coils, they imitated a rattle and I had to look close to make sure he was a bull snake. Prairie rattlers looks similar, and once I saw it was a bull…well I wanted him.
The trick to catching any snake is to ‘”strike” out quickly and confidently with your hand and catch him just below the head, so as to keep him between your thumb and forefinger. So I did that and the fight was on as he coiled around my arm and was hissing and just all upset at the way his day was turning out. That was a pretty good bull snake as I recall and I had to uncoil him with my other arm as he was attempting to constrict me on my arm and neck.
So, off to the house with my new treasure, oh all the neat stuff I knew I was going to be able to with this snake, I remember it like it yesterday. Put him in momma’s bed, or her boudoir…toss him on Sheila the bully…I was imagining a whole bunch of joy this snake was going to bring me. You see, with boys it is all about the slithering stuff that scares folks, especially girly girls.
I gets home and looks around for something to put my snake in. A jar is too small, and, bear in mind, I am doing everything with one hand. I finds a cardboard box and it seems perfect, so I lower the snake into it and check it over. I taped the corners with masking tape and left a little slot for the snake to breathe. Then, realizing that the show Combat! is coming on, I go to the front room and turn on the TV set. In its day, Vic Morrow and Combat was the coolest TV show going. Vic got shot more times in the arm than any soldier in history…but he always pulled through and took out the Germans. I digress…
So, I finished watching the show, momma was making supper, so I decided to play with Mr. snake for a little while. When I got to the box and opened it- guess what? He had escaped! I was frantic…searched all over the place..no snake..I searched everywhere and finally, in exasperation , I had to tell momma that I had lost a large snake in the house. The tarantula episode was still kind of fresh and she was pretty stern with me, but she saw that I really wanted that snake, so she undid her apron and we commenced to look for it. Being from Florida, she wasn’t really terribly scared of snakes, unless surprised by them in her bed or hissing at her from her boudoir. It was nowhere to be found. Listen, this snake was very large and it was like a Houdini snake- it just vanished. This was the fall of 1967, I remember because I was in 5th grade and it had to be fall because the wheat fields were harvested, leaving the prairie clean.
Then 1967 ended and 1968 commenced. We had a very brutal winter, with snow drifts very high and cruel, piercing winds. The spring came and I was looking forward to summer break. John Law gave me a black eye that year at the bicycle racks…it was a dandy and I remember liking the way It looked in the mirror. My mother saw no humor in it and took me to his house, raising cain with his mother about it all.
Ladies, never do that to your sons…it is worse than the fight. Now I was constantly teased about being a momma’s boy and everybody wanted to hit me. Bad parenting move, but she meant well. I digress again.
The summer rolled in. For people who have never experienced an Oklahoma summer…it is HOT! You can fry eggs on the ground and only the wind makes it tolerable. The reason so many tornados happen there is because the thunderstorms bring cold air…it mixes with the scalding hot air and tornados spawn. I digress again….back to the bull snake story
We had a novelty in our house- central air conditioning! The vents were in the floor and blew up into the house. You could stand over them and they would blow your hair up in the air…and that cold air was marvelous! At any rate, our family was large, and someone noticed that one of the vents wasn’t blowing, so momma put in a call to public works and guess who shows up? If you read the first story about the tarantula, you’ll recall that the respondent to the broken washing machine was a large black man…and I guess he did air-conditioning too. In those days, appliance repairmen were frequently jacks of all trades. So in comes this large black gentleman…all smiles and apologizing to momma for his cussing at the tarantula episode, her having so many young children and all, and so did he and so on…he was very cordial. I remember thinking that, for a large man (he looked like a mountain) he sure was a happy cuss…a gentle giant. So he has on his tool belt and momma points out the vent that is clogged up.
He unscrews the vent, laughing about the spider still and assuring momma that vents are no problem to fix…just usually some trash or lint that has to be removed. He puts his hand down in that vent…and guess what happens? If you said snake…you got it!
That large snake runs up his arm and makes a beeline across the carpet…of course all he sees is SNAKE ON MY ARM! I distinctly remember the change in his demeanor. Like someone turned on a switch. I previously mentioned that he had been quite profane about the tarantula, using the MF bomb profusely, and how I didn’t know you could use that word in so many ways. Well I was wrong cause he used it again, even better: “MOTHERF***ER!” he yells “SNAKE!... I’M BIT!” and takes off for the door and I hear him out in the front yard just a cussin
“MFING SPIDERS…MFing SNAKES…MFing COUNTRY ASSED WHITE PEOPLE…THEY DON’T PAY ME ENOUGH FOR THIS MFing Sh**t! …THOSE MFing PEOPLE ARE CRAZY…WHO THE F**K LIVES WITH TARANTULAS, SNAKES AND ALL KINDS OF SH*T LIKE THAT?” Well those weren’t his exact words of course…I was in 6th grade, so I forgot most of them…but I was really impressed with his cussing…I remember that clearly. Me and Billy Qualls used to try to see who could cuss for the longest time without repeating ourselves.
As for the snake, it made its way to the kitchen where my momma swatted it with a broom Babe Ruth style. She was beating it pretty good with the broom as the appliance guy was out front having his nervous breakdown. I had to yell at her to get her to stop and went and recaptured my poor snake. She told me to let it go or she would whip me with a switch…so I let it go out the backyard. I hated to do that, because it ruined ALL my plans.
Then I got the black man’s flashlight and screwdriver and picked up his tool pouch. When I got to the front yard, he was puffing on a Kool cigarette, and momma was giving him the what for because of his language. “Here’s your tools mister” I gave him back his things. (momma always made me be polite) and he got back in his truck and left. I had to replace the vent and screw it down.
Now, if you think this, and the tarantula story is not true …I can assure it happened just the way I said it did. The bull snake amazed us by living for almost 9 months in the duct system of our house. The black man never came back…when we needed house repair, a white man showed up. Looking back on it now, I don’t blame him…the irony of it all is that both these events are family stories we still talk about to this day. He, although unknown to us, has probably told his family about the crazy, country assed white people that lived on Lehr Street with spiders and snakes all crawling about , Adam’s family style. Heh heh heh!
