From the Publisher’s Wife
My Aunt Bobbie, or Barbara Jane, as her mother would call her when she was aggravated at her next youngest daughter, is a very brave, can-do kind of woman. She and Uncle C.B. Leatherwood have lived on the farm adjoining ours for more years than you can shake a stick at. She can drive a tractor, feed the mules, break up a dog fight, bait a fish hook, and keep the farm running all by herself.
Just don’t ask her to kill a snake! She will be the first to tell you that she would hurt herself trying to get away. All the Leatherwood’s are like that. Now the Louisiana woods we live near is snake haven. We have water everywhere, trees, underbrush and lots of great snake treats. A reptile can sun himself and eat all at the same time.
This environment is not the greatest for someone like Aunt Bobbie, who can get a good scare on just thinking about even a harmless chicken snake. The day that I am remembering was about 12 years ago and the hot, southern sun was still below boiling temperature, so Aunt Bobbie went out for a healthy morning walk before things got really steaming.
Going up the hill toward our farm, a snake crossed the road in front of her. I told you she is brave, and a snake going about his own business in the opposite direction would not be enough to deter her, but just enough to cause a danger alert to the hairs on the back of her head.
Continuing on her walk with all senses alerted, she neared Midway Baptist Church, which was her usual turn-around spot. You know where this story is going, and yes, she spotted a great big rattlesnake making his slithery way into the ditch at the same time that she spotted a neighbor boy approaching it in a pick-up truck.
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“Get a gun – There is a rattlesnake in the pompous grass!”
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Aunt Bobbie waved him down (one never lets a rattlesnake get away, even if you are terrified of him, because eventually he’ll wind up on your own doorstep or somebody else’s and that would not do). His name was Billy Ray or Billy Dan or Stump, or something like that. And yes, we do name our kids those names – we like those names. The upshot of the hailing was that Bobbie and Billy Ray or Billy Dan or Stump worked on killing that snake until it got away. Billy Ray… didn’t have his gun with him and the stick wasn’t long enough or sharp enough to bridge the fear gap. I am sure Billy Ray… never told the story because it doesn’t portray him in a very heroic way, but Aunt Bobbie doesn’t care who knows she’s scared of snakes.
By this time the walk was anything but healthy or happy but she had to get home so she kept at it. Down the road from the old chicken houses was our farm where my mother and Willie lived. Bobbie couldn’t see anybody at home as she approached the driveway where the huge patches of pompous grass stood watch.
It was not a good morning! Just as she got even with the second clump of pompous, she saw the biggest, meanest rattlesnake in Sabine Parish glide in among the impenetrable stalks of grass – just looking for a cool place to hang out until the sun went down and the dirt wouldn’t fry his belly off.
You have to understand my mother was Bobbie’s beloved oldest sister and there was no way she would leave that spot and let that dangerous snake loose where it “could hide, heavens knows where in Opel’s yard.” So there she stood, watching that grass like a hawk until somebody came along to help her. After much too long in the growing-ever-hotter morning sun Bobbie’s son Donny came along in his pick-up.
“Run into Opel’s house, Donnie, and get a gun – there is a rattlesnake in the pompous grass. I’ll stay here to make sure it doesn’t leave.” Donnie burst into the house (doors are never locked in the country) and there sat Mother and Willie shelling peas. They had been there all along. Out they all trooped, gun in hand and fire in their eyes.
Of course, that snake never moved and no one can see deep inside those dried up stocks. So there was no shooting, just consternation. “Can’t leave him in there, it’s too close to the house.” Then Mother decided to get the riding lawnmower out and try to mow over that area; then when the snake came out, they could shoot it. Sensible, except the snake never reappeared. “I haven’t moved my eyes since I saw it go in,” Bobbie declared with a good bit of sun-heated emotion.
The next attempt involved lots of gasoline, matches and a burning bush but the snake was triumphant or just deep underground – it was never cited again.
Mother and Willie went back to shelling peas; Bobbie and Donnie went back home and the pompous grass never grew back.
From the Bible: “When I was a child, my speech, feelings, and thinking were all those of a child; now that I am an adult, I have no more use for childish ways.” 1 Corinthians 13:11
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