When I was sure the snake wouldn’t move, I jabbed with my stick and trapped him against the dirt. “Hey, I got one!” He was about as long as my arm, and looked like the Garter snakes we’d seen at the pet store.
I squatted to pick him up behind the head, like Dad had showed me, and almost fell on my butt. The darned thing slithered away toward the stone blocks of the railroad bridge.
“Crap on a cracker!” I was about to blow our first good chance in half an hour of looking. If the snake got to the weeds, or to one of the gaps in that wall he’d be gone.
“What’s wrong?” Eddie yelled as he and Sharon rushed around the corner of the bridge.
“He’s getting away!” No sooner were my words out when the snake had made it to the wall, sniffing along the stone with his tongue.
In two steps I was there, stick at the ready and my heart racing. He started to climb, heading for a gap two feet off the ground. I had one more chance, unless I wanted to pull him out by his tail and risk getting bit. Eddie and Sharon were on either side of me now.
I kept my eye on the snake as I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans and got a better grip on the stick. When he flicked out his tongue and tickled the hole, I leaned forward and pinned him to the wall.
