Snake Summer
It was already deep into the drowsy summer afternoon when the girl and her snakes came into town. Crisp, cool waves crashed against the nearby shore, masking the slithering noise as the snakes followed her across the warm asphalt. She was headed for the trolley stop. Her back was hunched beneath a backpack stuffed with all her worldly belongings. She didn’t know how long she had been walking. Sweat beaded on her brow, but a snake twined through her short hair to sip the sweat before she could wipe it away.
She reached the trolley stop and sat. The snakes coiled at her feet, patient and gentle as lambs, always following, always there. A few started to tug at her laces and she had to shuffle her feet to discourage them. An older woman with carefully coiffed white hair passed by the stop, tossing the girl a disgusted look as she went. Nothing out of the ordinary here, then. At least the woman hadn’t yelled anything.
The trolley was late. The afternoon sun that had been pleasantly warm before now felt stifling. The girl watched through the window of a nearby restaurant as a family, mid-meal, stared at her and her snakes. Their faces were all sour save for the young child, whose mouth hung open, her fork frozen in midair. The girl smiled at the child, trying to ignore the dirty looks from the rest of her family. Cool scales wrapped around her sun-stung skin as a few snakes coiled protectively around her bare shins.
The girl’s father said the snakes were a curse — yelled it really — but she liked the snakes. They were hers. They never bit anyone that didn’t deserve it and they were good company. Still, she could have done without the stares, the yells, the occasional thrown rock. It was hard work defending her snakes. She ran one hand along an arm knotted with scars and waited for the trolley to come.
A few lazy minutes later, the trolley jingled merrily into view and rolled to a stop in front of the girl. As she stood, the snakes scattered off her body like raindrops from a roof. The exiting trolley passengers muttered amongst themselves and gave the girl and her snakes a wide berth. She ducked her head and kept her gaze low as she helped her snakes onto the trolley ahead of her. They exulted in the cool floor of the trolley, squirming about like gleeful slugs, but the girl’s body was tense.
There were no empty rows in the trolley. There were empty seats, sure, but each passenger the girl paused next to gave her a dark look or slid their belongings over to take up the space. The girl’s snakes hissed and writhed at her feet, growing more agitated with each row she passed. Her skin flushed hot with embarrassment and her backpack felt like it was growing heavier with each step.
There was only one row left. The girl looked to the right and saw a man hastily move his shopping bag. She set her jaw and looked to the left.
There was another girl sitting alone in the back row of the trolley. She didn’t glare or move away. A snake slithered up to her and flicked its forked tongue across her flip-flop, tasting sea salt and sand. It curled up, comfortable, and the trolley girl smiled down at it. She patted the seat next to her. The girl joined her, hesitant, perched on the edge of her seat. She watched the trolley girl cautiously for any sign of disgust.
Instead, she saw a lizard slip from the trolley girl’s sleeve and climb down to join the snake.
