From When He Comes Home from The War: He Wakes Up to His Mother’s Screams

* wakes up to his mother’s screams. He rushes outdoors and sees her standing on their wooden porch a few steps above a five-foot black snake. His mother’s shrieks are deafening. They ring in his ears like fire alarms in a school hallway. The snake does nothing. He thinks it is possible that it might be dead until the snake’s tongue darts out in a conservative attempt to ascertain its surroundings. His mother rushes into the house and positions herself behind the screen door, yelping all the while.

With a clatter, *’s father rushes out onto the porch with a shovel. Is that a God damn snake again? he says, holding his eyes to the heavens. He turns to *. It’s the second one of these I’ve seen this year. He stands there, the shovel at his side. He sighs. His wife is indoors screaming.

* takes the shovel from his father’s hand. He walks slowly down the steps and holds the shovel out like a lance. The snake continues not to move. * raises the shovel high over his head and brings it down like an ax, cleaving the snake in two. His mother stops with her cries. His father puts his hands on his hips. He inhales. Nods. That’s my boy, he says. Fearless.