Snake Charmer

By T. Perran Mitchell

A large reptilian eye stared back at Sal when he opened his front door. The glassy yellow eye blinked twice. Flooded with adrenaline, Sal’s muscles tightened and though he wanted to run, his arms and legs were stubbornly unresponsive. The black and gold snake took advantage of this paralysis and shot past him, knocking Sal over with his tail as the serpent crashed his way through the series of tiny tunnels and hollowed out rooms Sal shared with his wife, Shilpa.

The snake slithered his way through the living room and the kitchen, the bathroom and the bedroom. Returning to the couple’s combination living room-dining room, he reared up and loomed over Sal. “Mine now, you must leave. Leave and never return, or I’ll swallow you whole. Be thankful I haven’t eaten you already. Consider it a gift, for making me such a nice new home.” The snake’s voice came out in a rough hiss, like a chain slowly dragged across gravel.

Sal gradually rose to his feet, paws shaking, fur standing on end. Still in shock, he stared at the snake. Mind blank with fear, unsure how to react. His breath short and shallow.

“Now, or I’ll eat you where you stand!” The beast hissed, showing his impressive fangs. The sight of fangs nearly as tall as he was jolted Sal to action. He ran out of the place he and Shilpa had called home for the last twelve years. The snake slammed the door closed behind Sal with a quick flick of his powerful tail.

Sal scurried up the tunnel from the door and out from under the fallen tree they used as a porch roof. He collapsed on a nearby stone and cried. His face wet with tears, he sat waiting for Shilpa to come home from work. She’d know what to do, Sal thought.

An hour went by, and Sal’s heavy sobs had subsided to sniffles and the occasional tear. With his brown furry face buried in his pink paws, he waited, trying — and failing — to not think about the large snake coiled in the home he and Shilpa had dug out together. A flood of memories bombarded him: memories of building their home, of reinforcing the walls with flat stones from the river, of covering the stones with large pieces of red oak bark — Shilpa’s favorite — giving the rooms a rustic warmth they both enjoyed. Memories of sitting, curled together, tails intertwined, each with a book in hand. Sal lost in an action packed western and Shilpa engrossed in the biography of an obscure historical figure.

“What’s wrong, friend?” Sal jumped at these words. The grey mouse who said them waved as he slowly walked down from the road towards Sal. The mouse’s red bandana caught beams of sunlight that filtered through the leaves, giving his head the appearance of being engulfed in flames. “I’m sorry if I startled you. I just wanted to see what was the matter and if I could, maybe, help?”

“A snake took over our house. He just barged in and kicked me out.” Sal said, his voice thick and hoarse.

“Oh no, I’m so sorry to hear that. What are you going to do?”

“I’m waiting for my wife to come home. She is the smartest person I know, she’ll know what we can do… if there is anything we can do.”

“You’re a lucky man, my friend, luckier than you might know.”

“How so?” Sal asked, fighting back tears.

“Well, for one thing, it sounds like you have great wife. For another, you met me. Now, tell me more about this snake. What did the scoundrel look like?”

“It was huge! It almost broke the doorframe when it came crashing in on me. And the fangs — I couldn’t move, I couldn’t do anything, I was so scared.” Sal lost the battle with his emotions and sobbed so loud that it tore at his throat. The sound clawed at his new friend’s ears.

The mouse in the red bandana joined Sal on the rock. He wrapped his arm around the crying mouse’s shoulders and gave him his most reassuring shoulder pats. “I know, snakes are really scary and dangerous. You know, you’re also lucky that you got out of there alive.”

The tears continued to flow, and the other mouse supportively kept his arm in place. Once Sal’s sobs subsided, the mouse in the red bandana asked, “What color was this snake?”

“Black,” Sal said between huffing breaths. “Black with gold stripes.”

“Oh, we hit the luck trifecta! I was hoping that you would say that.” The mouse in the red bandana jumped up and ran over to the side of the road where he had left his pack. Digging through it, he muttered to himself, “Now where is it? I know I put it here some place. Oh, come on, don’t tell me I left it at home...ah yes, here it is.”

“Here what is?” Sal strained his neck to try to see past the other mouse.

“The answer to all your problems, my friend: my great-grandfather’s snake charming flute,” the mouse in the red bandana said, holding the flute aloft.

“Your what?”

“My great-grandfather Augustus’ snake charming flute. You see, in his youth, my great-grandfather was a snake charmer, and when we great grandkids were pups, he used to tell us stories about his snake charming adventures (he was long retired by that point). When he passed away, he gave each of us great-grandkids one of his snake charmer flutes. You see, the thing you need to know about snake charming is that it takes different flutes to charm different snakes. When I got a little older, Grand-grand - that’s what we called him – asked, ‘Drew, what’s your two favorite colors?’

“I told him ‘red and gold.’

“‘Hmm...’ he said. ‘Pick again, gold and something else.’

“So I said, ‘black?’

“And he said, ‘That’ll do.’ When he passed, I inherited the black and gold flute. It works on black snakes, gold snakes, gold snakes with back spots” Drew pointed the flute at Sal “or even black snakes with gold stripes.”

“Really!” Sal’s tear-filled eyes grew wide. “Did he teach you how use it?”

“A little. I mean, I could try. I haven’t played it in years, but I’d hate to see you lose your home.”

“Oh, if you could try that would be wonderful. I’d give anything to get back home.”

“Now, now, we can talk about what you can do for me or any repayment after I get the snake out. I’m not even sure if this’ll work.” Drew gave Sal a wide, toothy smile.

“I’m sure it will! I believe in you, Drew.” Sal jumped for joy.

“OK. Give me a couple of minutes to warm up, then I’ll go down. You stay up here. No matter what you hear, just stay up here, OK?”

“OK!” Sal beamed.

Drew cracked his neck and his fingers before putting the flute to his mouth. The first few notes came out rough and flat. He cleared his throat and played another note, this one too sharp. Slowly, as the mouse in the red bandana played on, the notes leveled out. Soon, music smooth and winding filled the air.

“Ah, there we go. It’s been a while, but I guess you never really lose it. Wish me luck.”

“Good luck. I believe in you.” Sal waved as Drew scampered down the tunnel to the door, flute tucked under his arm.

Once at the door, Drew blew two low, deep notes followed by a single high note. He waited a moment, then blew the same pattern again. He waited two more beats. Slowly he pushed on the door, giving it a little bit of a shoulder shove to work it through the bent doorframe. Cautiously, he entered the living room. The snake hissed at him, “Well, it’s about time.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry, but that guy up there just wouldn’t stop crying. It took everything I had not to scream at him, ‘Cut it out, I know you’re sad! Hell, half the forest knows you’re sad. Now shut up about it.’”

“If you’re done whining, let’s get on with this,” the snake hissed, tongue flicking this way and that.

“Calm down, Jeffrey,” Drew snarled back. “Look, it’s been a long week and we’re both on edge. Here!” The mouse threw the flute to the snake, who caught it with a snap of its powerful jaws. “Get playing and I’ll start searching. This should be the last house we have to hit. If it’s as big a score as the last one, we’ll be set for at least a year or more.” Drew slipped a tightly folded sack out from beneath his red bandana. It unfolded to be nearly as large as the mouse.

Having heard this promise from Drew several times before, Jeffrey simply stared unmoving at his partner, flute hanging from his lips.

“Honest, my fence says he can flip all these home goods, jewelry and art no problem.” The mouse pleaded, hands up in a placating gesture. “We’ll be set.”

Jeffrey’s nostrils flared as he took a deep inhalation. It started soft and low, each note building on the last, growing in complexity with each passing moment, filling the underground house of Shilpa and Sal with beautiful and haunting music. The notes danced and lingered in the small house, reverberating and resonating with the bark and stone in the walls. The music spoke of love and loss. The notes weaved their way under the door and out to the forest above. They filled Sal’s ears, adding to the weight in his heart.

While Drew’s promises made him hopeful that he’d soon have his home back, the melancholy of the tune kept his joy at bay. His mind turned to imagining the look on his wife’s face when she would learn that he lost the home they spent the last twelve years building. Thinking of their home brought on the memories of picking out paintings to hang on each wall. He recalled how they tried out five different couches before finding the one they both liked. And the moment the place first felt like a home. The tears once more rolled down Sal’s cheeks.

All of this provided a soundtrack for Drew’s search. He went room by room, tearing down paintings, ripping up couches and beds, pulling everything out of all the cabinets and drawers. He took the things of value, the things he knew would sell quickly and quietly. All of Shilpa and Sal’s prized possessions went into Drew’s large sack.

By the time Jeffrey had reached the middle of the third song, Drew, already having been through the house twice, chewed on his lower lip as he inspected the half-full sack. With a heavy sigh he returned to the living room, the lighter-than-expected bag in tow. The snake’s eyes and nostrils flared at the sight of the half-empty bag. His body undulated back and forth, tail whipping around the room. He motioned with his head to the rest of the house. His eyes narrowed on Drew as the mouse dragged the sack back into the next room, head hung low. Through all of this, the sad, slow music never wavered or broke, nothing to betray what had just happened.

Above ground, while Drew began his third sweep of the house, Shilpa strolled down the road towards her home. The rat wore a stylish leather messenger bag over one shoulder and carried a small silver lunch pail in her hand. She whistled a jaunty tune, formed from the misremembering of the theme to one of Sal’s favorite westerns. It had been a good day at work. She’d settled a long-standing dispute between a red falcon and horned owl over the perching rights to a bit of rock that overlooked a small lake. And she did it without having to go to trial. They agreed to a day/night time share, with the falcon getting early dawn and the owl retaining dusk. Both parties seemed happy with the compromise and it pleased Shilpa to find a fair deal for all concerned.

She first sensed something was wrong when her whistling clashed with the sounds of a flute playing a somber song. She stopped to listen to the new music. The haunting melody filled her with sadness and made her uneasy. The song invoked loss and past mistakes. Mistakes made of words one could never take back and of actions for which one could never atone. The somber tune grew louder as Shilpa approached home, causing her strides to quicken from a brisk walk to a flat out run.

Her steady run morphed into a sprint as she caught a glimpse of her husband Sal sitting on a stone, sobbing. “Sal! Sal!” She cried out. He looked up to see her through the blurred vision of tear-soaked eyes. A weak smile crept across his face. Despite his sadness, seeing Shilpa always made him smile. The rat embraced her husband the mouse on the road leading to their home.

“Sal! What’s wrong, my love?”

“Oh Shilpa, it was horrible. A huge snake invaded our house. It burst through the front door and kicked me out. It said it would eat me if I didn’t leave.” Sal’s body shook, reliving the terror of the day’s events.

“Sweetie, it’s OK. You got out of there and you’re safe. That’s the only thing that matters. We’re safe and together, it’s all I care about.” Shilpa lovingly stroked the back of Sal’s head.

“But there is a bit of good news. There’s a chance we might get our house back. While I was waiting for you to get home, this mouse came by. I was crying, and he stopped to see what was wrong. It turned out that he knows snake charming and he has the right flute to charm this snake. He’s down there, right now, trying to get the snake to leave. That music is him trying to charm the snake. But he’s been down there an awfully long time.” Sal exclaimed in a single breath.

“Really,” Shilpa’s keen mind parsed her husband’s story. “What do you mean, ‘right flute?’”

“Oh, Drew — that’s his name — Drew explained. You see his grandfather, no wait his great grandfather. I’m sorry; I’m still really flustered from that snake. His fangs were almost as large as I am.”

“It’s OK sweetheart; take a couple of deep breaths. Calm your mind. Then explain to me exactly what this other mouse, Drew, told you. We’ll figure it out together.”

Shilpa’s calm tone and reassuring words eased Sal’s mind. Being together always brought him a sense of clarity and confidence — one he sometimes found himself lacking when they were apart. It was one of the things he loved about her; people were always at their best around her. It was her gift.

“He said that his great grandfather had been a snake charmer. When his great grandfather passed, he gave each of his great grandchildren a different flute. That you need different flutes to control different snakes. His flute is gold and black and the snake in our house is black with gold stripes. He said that because of this, he could control the snake.” Sal paused.

“He said it was a lucky coincidence, that he just happened to have the exact right flute for the snake that’s in our house?” Shilpa looked at her love with understanding.

“Something like that… I’m so dumb. How didn’t I see how odd that was?”

“Oh, sweetie, you were really upset and scared. This Drew jackass, he took advantage of the situation. A situation I’m fairly sure he created. You’re not dumb; he just stacked the deck against you. And snakes are really scary… but you know what else is scary?” Shilpa asked.

“What?” Sal tilted his head in confusion.

“Me,” Shilpa smiled. Then with a wink she said, “Did I ever tell you my stepmom was a Mongoose?”

“No,” Sal smiled back.

“Want to help me kick these jerks out of our house?”

“You know it!” Finally being proactive filled Sal with happiness.

The rat and mouse climbed down the tunnel to their front door. Shilpa turned to Sal and asked, “Ready?” He nodded yes. With a powerful kick, Shilpa knocked their door off its hinges. Inside, Drew held the under-filled bag of stolen items steady as Jeffrey unhinged his jaws, preparing to swallow it whole. Using his other hand, Drew played the flute — not nearly as well as the snake, but well enough. The both looked up at the couple, then to the shattered door.

The flute fell from Drew’s lips as he muttered, “Oh boy.”

Before the flute even hit the ground, Shilpa was on them. She slammed her shoulder into the unhinged jaw of the snake. The impact with the jaw socket made a wet crunching sound. The bottom jaw dislocated and fell out of alignment with the top jaw. He tried to close his mouth, but the bottom half hung loosely, swinging back and forth.

Jeffrey tried to hiss at her, but it came out as a weak rush of air, like wind through a wide canyon. Furious, he lunged at her, attempting to spear the rat’s body with his fangs. Shilpa dodged to the left, leaving the fangs to strike nothing but dirt.

At the sight of his partner so quickly dispatched, Drew abandoned the bag to make a break for the exit. Halfway across the room, completely focused on the where the door once stood, he felt something heavy fall across the back of his neck. Stumbling forward, the opening became smaller and smaller as the edges of his vision darkened. Drew fell to the ground, turning his head upwards. Above him stood another mouse holding the discarded flute and smiling as he bounced it against the palm of his free hand. Sal pointed the flute at Drew and said, “I told you my wife would know what to do.”

As Drew’s world turned black, Shilpa delivered another vicious kick — this one straight to the same big eye that Sal had stared at when all this began. Jeffrey rocked back from the impact. He shook his head, jaw waggling, and he caught sight of his downed compatriot with his good eye, the other eye having swelled completely shut. The snake thought, “Time to cut my losses,” and shot out of the house, even faster than he had come in.

Shilpa immediately got on the phone with a friend of hers in the local constable’s office. Luckily, the badger she called lived right down the road and arrived before Drew regained consciousness. He took the mouse in the red bandana down to the courthouse. It seemed that there had been a rash of snake-related home invasions recently.

Once all the dust had settled and the strangers were gone, Sal turned to Shilpa. “Thank you. As always, you are my hero.”

“You’re welcome, my love. It was my pleasure. By the way, nice form with the flute.”

“Thank you. You weren’t so bad with those kicks either.”

Shilpa pantomimed a curtsy.

Sal laughed. The laugher faded and his face grew serious. “So, now what do we do?”

“We rebuild,” she smiled at her husband.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too. Now help me with this door; we’re getting a little bit of a draft.”