Finding Miranda

CHAPTER 10: THE SNAKE

The Magnolia Street porch ladies, now increased by a factor of one, carried on the tradition of coffee sipped in front-porch rocking chairs in the misty, gray-green dawn. What got their hearts started each day was not the caffeine in the coffee, however. It was the whhp-whhp-whhp of sneakers on asphalt and the cheery greeting for each lady in turn from a passing Adonis.

Miranda sometimes felt that bibs would make perfect gifts for her fellow Shep-worshipers, so that their drool wouldn't damage their clothing. She made a mental note to Google some patterns and construct the bibs herself, maybe even embroidering them with each lady's name for a personal touch.

In Florida there are two seasons: wet season and dry season. June 1 through December 1 was the wet season. July steamed in the mornings and poured in the afternoons. Hanging laundry outside to dry became a calculated risk, and more than one set of bed linens got an unscheduled rinse in rainwater when its owner lost the race with a fast-moving cloudburst. Miranda was saving up for an electric clothes dryer.

On this particular July morning, Miranda had taken a break from completing the daily crossword puzzle-in ink, a secret source of pride for her-and she was perusing the classified ads for used appliances. Beside her on a fern stand was her mug of coffee.

At any moment, Martha would raise the alarm and all the ladies would sit forward for the best possible view of the Shep and Dave Parade. After her morning fix of beefcake, Miranda would shower, dress, and drive into Live Oak for a quiet day in the library.

"Here they come!" Martha announced, looking through her binoculars. Then with new alarm in her voice she cried, "Holy mother of pearl! Rattler! Rattler in the road!"

"Shoot it, Martha!" Bernice shrieked.

"Bernice, ya idjit! This pea shooter is fine for rabbits in the front yard, but it won't make a dent in a monster that size from this distance!"

"Can't they just go around it?" called Wyneen.

"Don't seem like they see it!" Charlotte said. "Looks like they'll run right up on it before they even know it's there!"

In the distance Shep and Dave loped toward them at an easy, regular pace. They didn't appear to angle left or right to avoid the dangerous reptile lying full-length across their path.

The snake was aware of them, however, no doubt sensing the vibration of the asphalt as they drew closer. Six feet of diamond-backed reptile began coiling in on itself in the road, head raised and tongue flicking toward the unwary man and his dog.

Miranda realized that she was standing at her gate, unaware that she had even risen from the rocking chair on the porch. She stared in horror at the snake. Two sounds assaulted her simultaneously: the whhp-whhp-whhp of running shoes and the warning rattle of the serpent's tail.

A hand touched Miranda's shoulder, and she screamed. She hadn't seen Martha cross the street to stand beside her.

"Phyllis kept a twelve-gauge in the hall closet. Is it still there?" said Martha.

Miranda gasped and mentally raced through the house recalling what Phyllis had left and where. "Yes!" she cried, and sprinted into the house.

Miranda threw open the hall closet, fumbled in the dark for the heavy shotgun and hauled it toward the light.

Outside, a dog began barking. The Magnolia Street ladies screeched in alarm. Miranda knocked shoe boxes and photo albums off the closet shelf and found a box of twelve-gauge shotgun shells.

She was already running through the front door and across the porch as she wrested two shells from the box, dropping the rest behind her without a second look.