Terrel Bit by the Dead Snake

Summer time in Franklin, Louisiana was a great time for me, Paul, Terry and Terrel. The four of us spent most of our time riding our bikes, playing ball, swimming in the new swimming pool or just hanging out in the park. The park was our world and the new swimming pool was a great addition to our world. But swimming in crystal clear chlorinated water with no snakes and gators wasn't all that exciting. It was almost like taking a bath. The pool meant that we didn't have to swim in the muddy water of the Bayou Teche anymore although jumping off the old Sterling swing bridge was a lot of fun and something to brag about if you were brave enough to jump off of the top truss. I never made it to the top truss nor do I recall Terry or Terrel making it to the top but Terry insisted that Paul had to be part monkey because he climbed everything in sight. Climbing the bridge truss for Paul was a piece of cake. And, although Paul showed no fear in climbing the truss one simple word sent spine tingling fear into all of us. SNAKE. All someone had to do was holler "snake!" and there would be four boys throwing a jet ski size wake, swimming at brake neck speed toward anything that you could climb upon to get out of the water. None of us liked snakes of any kind which makes this one hot summer afternoon hanging out in the park an oddity. We were in the shelled parking lot of the swimming pool picking up clam shells and seeing how far we could sail them when Terry spotted a snake in the grass at the edge of the parking lot. Defying our profane protest, he started poking at the snake with a stick. We figured the hot sun must have got to him but when he reached down and picked up the snake by the tail we knew he had lost his mind. We had heard that some people in the hills of Appalachia would fool with some snakes because of their religion but these three Catholic boys in the bayou country wasn't about to mess with a snake. Now even in the hot summer time we all wore blue jeans with cuffs turned up, white tee shirts and black high top tennis shoes, except Terrel. When summer came Terrel hardly ever wore shoes and most of the time rolled his blue jeans up just below his knees. You are probably wondering what in the world does this have to do with a snake. Well, had Terrel had his pants rolled down it would have been just another day hanging out in the park. Terry started swinging that snake in circles above his head like a lasso, after we stopped bumping into each other, we all started running in different directions. It was a Norman Rockwell moment. That day proved the old addage to be true about not having to be the fastest in the group you just have to be able to outrun one person. Well, Terry had that snake twirling above his head chasing us and we were running and hollering like a bunch of heathens and we weren't hollering anything nice. That particular afternoon Terrel was the slower one and when Terry let that snake fly it hit Terrel and the fangs scrapped his leg just below the knee where his pants were rolled up. Now the chase had reversed and it was Terrel chasing Terry across the park. When we all finally caught up with one another we dropped to the ground exhausted laughing our heads off, until we notice the two trickles of blood on Terrels leg. We all knew what a snake bite looked like and that looked like a snake bite. Now in those days we knew the procedure for a snake bite was to cut across the bite with a knife and suck the poisoned blood from the cut and spit it out. We just knew these things but none of us was willing to do it, besides the snake didn't look like a rattler or a copper head so we figured it wasn't poisonous. But the fact that none of us were snake experts, what we figured wasn't comforting to Terrel. We hung out in the park that afternoon watching to see if Terrel's leg would swell up or turn purple but it only turn red around the bite. Of course Terrel didn't appreciate us speculating about amputation and conjuring up wild images of a wooden leg. Bright and early the next morning we met under the huge moss draped oak tree near the wading pool in the park. Terrel still had his leg and was doing okay. The rest of the summer we were cautious when swimming in the Teche and we made a pact not to holler "SNAKE" unless we really saw one. But time passed and the following summer lazily rolled in and as always with the passage of time we forgot our fears of that hot summer day when Terrel got bit by the dead snake. "SNAKE" was hollered from the bridge again and once again that summer we swam like fish trying to get out of the water.

Coming Out of the Coffin

The summer I was fifteen years old I began living alone in the house I grew up in across the street from the park in Franklin. You see, my Dad worked as a dredge boat operator and he had to work where ever Brown and Root had a contract which was in Texas the majority of the time. Well, sometmes my Mom and I would go live with Dad for maybe a year or so then she and I would come back to Franklin to stay for a while. Needless to say I changed schools many times. Well the summer before my junior year in high school Momma decided we were going to Texas to live with Dad again. I told her I was tired of changing schools and that I wanted to stay in Franklin. I'll never forget, it was a beautiful Sunday morning and I had gone to mass. When I returned home there was some money on the kitchen table with a note telling me to use the money to pay the utility bills and buy groceries and that every week she would send me an allowance. The first couple of weeks were a little scarey but after a while I had settled in and from that time all through high school I lived alone. What does all this have to do with a coffin? Well, I'll tell you. When everyone found out that I had no parents at home sometimes some of my friends would ask to stay at my house if they couldn't go home because they had been drinking and didn't want their parents of find out. Well this particular night four of my friends from Hanson High School had gone to a wedding and later showed up at a party at the country club all chakayed (drunk). John Dugas, Gordon Boozer, Lionel Mire and Johnny Schexnayder were in no condition to face their parents that night so Dugas asked if they could stay at my house. It was okay with me but Schexnayder who had already jumped in the swimming pool and fell in a couple of mud puddles was already passed out. So we threw him in the trunk of my car and Dugas, Boozer and Mire followed in their car. When we got to my house we unloaded Schexnayder who was out cold and put him in the back bed room on his back in the bed. Now this back bed room that we had in my house was not like everyones normal bed room. It was a very small bed room, the whole house was about 750 square feet, and in one corner was an alter where my Momma, even though she was living in Texas, practiced hoodoo. Hoodoo not Voodoo, there is a difference. On the alter there were statues and different colored candles and she would cast spells and put or remove gris gris on people. The candles burned for nine days so if she needed another one lit she would call me and tell me which color. Needless to say some of the neighorbors were scared to death of Momma, but honestly I didn't think anything of it, that was just the way it was. Well, Schexnayder is passed out in the back bed, Dugas and Boozer on the living room floor and Mire on the sofa and me, the only sober one in the house, in the front bed room sleeping peacfully. About four o'clock in the morning we were all jolted out of our slumber by the most awful screaming and hollering any of us had every heard coming out of the back bedroom. You could hear the fear quivering in those screams. All four of us arrived at the back bedroom door at the same time and were peering in like a bunch of curious racoons with eyes wide open. Schexnayder was in the bed on his back hollering and screaming and flaying his arms like a mad man. After a few tense moments Dugas got up enough nerve to jump on him and shake him to his senses. Dugas was screaming at him to calm down and tell us what was wrong. With Dugas screaming at Schexnayder, Schexnayder flaying and hollering at the image of candle flames dancing on the ceiling and the three of us thinking Schexnayder was possessed by a spirit, there was quite a rukus going on in that little bed room at four in the morning. When the screaming and hollering stopped, Schexnayder, exhausted and scared, finally calmed down enough to tell us that when he opened his eyes in that small room and saw candle flames dancing on the ceiling and when he lifted his head he saw the statues on that alter in the corner of the room he began screaming and reaching for the sides of the coffin because he thought he was at Iberts Funeral Home and he was coming out of the coffin. I bet it was a long time before he took another drink.