Preserving A Country Life

Two young brothers bear witness to life and death at its most primitive level.

Rayanne took the boys to her parents’ farmhouse and dropped them off like they were dry cleaning.

   “I’ll come back tomorrow and get ‘em, Mama,” she said. “Keep a close eye on ‘em. Both been acting up lately.” She hugged her mother goodbye and turned to walk to her car, calling out over her shoulder, “You two rascals best behave. I’ve gotta work a double at the Quik-Mart.”

   Her boys held their changes of clothing and watched from the front porch as she climbed behind the wheel of her half-rusted, half-primed Ford Pinto and backed down the dirt drive. She was halfway down it when the engine stalled.

   “And stay the heck out of your grandfather’s barn as well. It’s full of rats and snakes,” Rayanne warned, yelling over the whine of the starter. She kept the ignition key turned, draining what little life was left from the near-dead battery. “You hear me, boys?”

   “I hear you, Mama,” Riley answered. His brother Will hung his head and said nothing. He chewed his bottom lip--his new way of showing rebellion since the day he had turned ten, the same day their father died.

   “Piece-of-crap car’s like my life--falling apart,” RayAnne said under her breath, the normally sharp edge of her voice sounding raspy from the Marlboro dangling from her lip. The fifteen-year-old hatchback’s motor slowly kicked over and sputtered back to life.

   Riley and his grandmother waved goodbye until the Pinto and the blue smoke trailing it faded in the distance. Unlike his younger brother, Riley had become used to his mother’s odd work schedule and the routine of frequent overnight stays with their grandparents.

  Their grandmother turned to the boys and raised an eyebrow to a menacing arc. “And those rats and snakes--they bite!” she said, feigning a tone of fear in her voice while reaching out as if to grab the boys.

   Riley drew back and chuckled, even though he knew there was always an underlying kernel of truth behind his grandmother's exaggerated words and animated style. He elbowed Will who still refused to look up. “Will, keep pouting like a baby and I’m gonna wallop you one, you hear me?” he warned

   Will held his chin up. “I miss my dad,” he said, muffling a whimper.

   "He was my dad, too," Riley said. He gazed past his grandmother and over the fenced yard, west toward the far fields his grandfather was plowing. A yellow-red band of sunset along the Carolina pines cast an orange glow over the pasture between them. “And he ain’t coming back. You best start listening to me.”

   “Be nice now, boys. Dinner will be ready at the hour’s end,” their grandmother said, ushering them into the house. “Put your things away, then we’ll go see your grandfather.”

   Back outside, the boys and their grandmother cut across the highest rise of the sun-gilded pasture until it dumped them into a plowed field longer than the eye could see. A tractor lumbered along, turning up the dry earth. A thick cloud of dust kicked up behind its driver. The cloud rose higher and higher, partially obscuring the sun and clear October sky, as if trying to hasten the arrival of dusk.

   “Go on now, boys. As always, I’m sure your grandfather will appreciate your help,” she said, before returning to finish supper.

   Their grandfather, sitting high in the tractor cab, waved for the boys to follow. The boys kept a respectful distance behind the diesel exhaust and plumes of dust choking the air. They walked beside each other, Riley pushing a wheelbarrow, Will gathering up loose rocks and stones, piling them in it.

   Riley stopped and set the wheelbarrow down. He handed Will a flat palm-size rock. "Will, I want more like this one."

   Will rolled the rock over and over between his fingers and thumb, examined it briefly before tossing it the pile. “It’s just a rock. Big deal. Looks like any other.” He rolled his eyes and shook his head."

   “Get rid of the attitude, Will. Any that size, you keep for us. Got it?”

   “What for?”

   “Just put ‘em in your pocket.”

   “For what?”

   “For the war,” Riley answered.

   ”You been into mom’s pills again? She’ll whip your butt if she catches you.”

   “I haven’t, and she’d have to admit she even has 'em to do that,” Riley said.

   “What war you talking about?”

   “The war in there,” Riley said, pointing at the barn at the edge of the field. Half of its plank siding was missing and its metal roof was rusted through to the color of cinnamon. “The war we’ll fight against the rats and snakes. The one we’ll win.”

   Will looked at Riley the same way their mother used to look at their father before telling him he was crazy. “The barn? No way. You heard what mama said.” He knew there’d be no talking Riley out of his craziness without a fight starting. He also knew their grandfather wouldn’t tolerate any bickering. He wanted to say Riley, I’m not as dumb as you think, and you’re crazier than hell, but thought better of it--he was half Riley’s weight and his brother, at fourteen, was twice as strong. He'd be eleven in two months.

   Riley watched Will from the corner of his eye as the tractor turned toward the pasture. He reached down and scooped up a handful of dirt. “All this will be ours one day,” he said, letting the dirt sift slowly through his fingers. He sprinkled some of it to the evening breeze and slung the rest, scattering it at Will’s feet. “And I ain't sharing it with no rats or snakes.”

   It was near dark by the time the boys and their grandfather returned to the farmhouse; the sun had already dropped behind the trees, turning the sky that unique mix of streaked red and blue, the frieze of purple visible only in the early twilight. In the backyard, Riley and Will washed their hands under the cold-water spigot with a bar of soap that felt like sandpaper and smelled of diesel fuel. They slung their hands back and forth to dry, watching the stars awaken and wink at them through the canopy and curtain of darkening blue now surrounding the farm.

   “Will, you hear what I said back there about this place? About the rats and snakes?”

   “Uh-huh, I heard you. Ain’t no call for killing anything. Besides, we might not even see a one--rat or snake.”

   “Then what do you call that?” Riley asked, pointing at a broken bale of hay beside their grandfather’s tractor, just ten feet away.

   “Hay,” Will said, laughing out loud before he saw the reptile. He froze in his tracks.

   The coiled heap of snake, illuminated by the back porch light, lay quiet and still, the flickering of its tongue its only movement.

   Riley wasn’t startled by the snake’s large size, probably measuring at least five feet long and thick as his arm. “You coward, told you so. They’re everywhere." He walked up to the bale of hay and kicked at the snake. "And this one’s just a rat snake. Wait ‘til you see a copperhead or a cottonmouth--they’re the poisonous ones with fangs.”

   The large serpent uncoiled itself and disappeared under the loose hay scattered on the ground. The boys eyeballed its path as it moved silently beneath the hay, away from them and toward the sound of a squeaking field rat hidden in a nearby clump of grass. “It knows exactly where dinner's waiting,” Riley said. "That rat's a goner."

   “And what about the rat? Can it see and hear the snake?”

   Riley grinned. “Oh, yeah, but not until the snake’s already on top of him. Then it’s too late.”

   “I don’t see the rat. You sure it’s--"

   The rat dashed from the grass clump and right into the path of the waiting snake. It shrieked as the snake opened its jaws wide and struck fast, burying its teeth in the rodent’s body. The rat, red eyes bulging, didn’t struggle as the snake coiled around it. The snake drew the rat deeper into its mouth before finally slithering away into the darkness to devour it.

   Will walked over to where he last saw the rat and looked down. He shuddered. The only sign left of the large rodent was a wet spot on the ground where it had emptied its bowels. He silently said a prayer, thanking God for making him a boy and not a rat.

   “Goodness, Will. I think I heard him burp after he swallowed him.”

   “It’s not funny, Riley. You're sick.”

   “What the heck is going on out here?” Their grandfather stepped down from the porch and stood in the yard. He frowned at the boys. “Why aren’t you two at the supper table?”

   Will turned to go inside when he spotted the snake again. It lay coiled next to his grandfather’s boot. He gasped and then stepped backward and slipped, falling into Riley. Both boys tumbled into the yard. Their grandfather clenched his jaw and grit his teeth to keep from laughing.

   Will, terrified, pointed at the ground next to his grandfather. “The snake! It’s right next to you!”

   Riley stood and swiped at the grass and hay on his pants. “Grandpa, it’s just a rat snake. Nothing to be afraid of,” he said, an air of boldness and authority in his voice.

   Their grandfather gazed down at the snake against his boot and smiled. He looked to Riley and curled a finger. “Then you come over here and pick it up.”

   “Uh, Will saw it first. It’s his snake,” he lied.

   “How about it, Will? This rat snake belong to you?”

   “No, sir!”

   “Well, then, it must belong to me.” Their grandfather bent and slowly reached behind the snake’s head, grabbing the creature at the back of the neck and lifting him high into the air. The snake writhed and wrapped around his arm.

   “Oh my God! He bit you! I see blood on your arm!” Will yelled out. Both boys scrambled backward and climbed onto the tractor when their grandfather walked toward them with the snake. A strong smell, like that of onions, permeated the night air. Both boys wrinkled their faces in disgust.

   “Don't be afraid, boys. The snake just let loose its bowels. That’s the musk of a serpent you smell.” Their grandfather chuckled while carrying the snake back to the porch to see better under the light. He uncoiled the snake from his arm and looked at its underside.

   “It’s a male. And I can see he’s just finished eating.” The snake looked the same as before except for an obvious thickening in its middle. Their grandfather walked back into the yard and held the snake out over the fence. "Boys, this snake is here because God put it here. It has the right to stay. No harm will come to it. You understand me?" Riley and Will quickly nodded.

  “Good. Now, come down off that tractor, and let’s do like this snake and eat some supper.”

   The second their feet hit the ground running, the boys' grandfather released the serpent to let it pass into its own safe place of the night.