Toys are broken, now back to school. Christmas is over, mom said that’s cool. She rushed our breakfast packing our lunch. My brother made faces, I gave him a punch. ~ He threw a banana, it hit mom’s head. She spilled the milk, her face turned red. Our dog ran in to save the day. He licked up the milk and wanted to play. ~ We gave him some scratches and a treat. Then mom tied shoes too tight on our feet. We put on our hats, mittens and coats. Mom packed our bags with books and notes. ~ We walked to the bus stop to meet our friends. The bus pulled up and our vacation now ends. The parents all smiled and waved goodbye. Then home they went for some needed shut-eye.
My story began on the fifth of May. The day was chilly with a sky of gray. In my tent, cozy, I woke to a scream. Was it a person or was it a dream? ~ Morning dew thick, I stood there alone. The sun newly risen, I reached for my phone. No urgent messages or a soul in sight. No reason at all to cause such a fright. ~ The bikes were still leaning on a nearby tree. They’re the only way home for my pal and me. I then ran to the tent of my snoring friend, who’s along for the ride this spring weekend. ~ But the roar from within made it quite clear, my old friend’s just fine, no need to fear. I then glanced down the path to a campsite nearby. Something felt wrong but I didn’t know why. ~ I tiptoed closer when another scream was heard. It was the voice of a child, but that seemed absurd. I then ran to the shrieking and what did I find? Kids with a snake and they weren’t being kind. ~ I said hey kids “what’s with the noise? And why do you think that snakes are toys?” One little girl about seven or eight, said she wanted a pet and snakes are great. ~ Her brother the screamer cried at the thought. He’s afraid of snakes or anything caught. The other two children stood quiet and surprised, their naughty ways they now realized. ~ I said all life should be treated as if it’s your own. A lesson you should have already known. Soon the kid’s parents arrived on the scene. Their mother was angry, their father, big and mean. ~ He yelled loudly at his children and then at me. Saying stay away from my kids or trouble you’ll see. I knew not to argue or make a big fuss. But there was something I hoped to discuss. ~ I said “no problem, it’s not what it seems.” I then told them my story of snakes and screams. Their mom, disgusted, took the kids back to camp. The dad growled asking “do you think I’m damp?” ~ Puzzled, I asked “what do you mean, I’ve only told you what I’ve seen.” “I saw no snake, just my kids and you.” The dad replied, “What would you do?” ~ I know what I thought, but I couldn’t say. I felt it best to live through the day. I could’ve run, but to where? I could’ve fought him, but I didn’t dare. ~ He then picked up a very big stick. Then he charged at me like a lunatic. I stood frozen awaiting my demise, when the little snake caught the big man’s eyes. ~ He stopped on a dime and screamed in fear. His reptilian angst now was clear. So I slowly bent over and picked up the snake. The big man then started to tremble and shake. ~ “This is the culprit,” I loudly said. As I waved it gently near his clammy head. Sobbing, he begged, “Please take it away. I now believe everything you say.” ~ I took a step back, surprised and relieved. The turn of events was hardly believed. I thanked that snake and said goodbye to the dad. He just waved, whimpering and sad. ~ I then put the snake down and walked quietly away. I was relieved we survived this fine spring day. I went back to my tent then fell back to sleep, never to tell who a snake made weep.