Big Black Snake

The first snake I ever saw was in the middle of a dirt road tire track. He was black and slimy in my opinion, though I learned much later in life that it wasn't slimy at all. He sat there, sinister and shining in the sun, glinting as though it was encrusted with exquisite jewels.

In mid-pedal, I dumped my bike, jumped several feet backwards, and ran for home like it was chasing me. I could practically feel that forked tongue lapping at my heels as I ran. I stepped high, lifting my knees nearly to my chest. At some point, a blood curdling scream escaped from my mouth as I ran the half mile back to the house. By the time I got there, I had morphed that into screams of "Snake! Snake!"

My mother was waiting outside for me when I rounded the corner and leapt over the ditch in one tremendous bound. As I flew through the air, I suddenly realized that there could be any number of snakes in the grass I was about to land in. Just the week before my mother told me about a snake she had run over with the lawn mower over by the wood shed. My feet landed and I sprang straight back into the air, throwing my body wildly over as much ground as I could cover with each leap. I looked like a cross between a gazelle and a baboon, I'm sure. I was a rather lanky 7 year old.

By the time my mother convinced me to walk back down the road with her to retrieve my bike, I had stopped shaking and the sun had stopped shining. The stars began to peek their heads in the darkening horizon. The crickets chirped, telling of the coming evening. I walked slowly, not wanting to face that snake any more at that time than I had the first time I came nose to nose with it. A rabbit bounced across the path in front of us. The birds flitted from tree to tree and the cows grazed in a near by pasture, occasionally calling to one another. Arkansas in the spring was the most beautiful place I had ever seen.

The snake was long gone by the time we got to where my bike rested in the middle of a small mud puddle. I still laugh at myself and how afraid I was of that little snake. I remained terrified of snakes for many years until one day I was face to face with a pet snake belonging to a boy I liked. So completely bent on impressing this boy, I reached out and gingerly took the snake from his hands. I wrapped it around my neck and over my shoulders the way I had seen him do. Then I smiled my most winning, fetching smile for an awkward girl of 12 years old. I was still terrified, but I was too stupid to show it.

At times I have moments of that same type of stupidity. My judgement lapses and when fear tells me NOT to do something, I challenge myself to do it anyway. I've learned a few tricks for doing this, such as convincing myself that when I reach the number 1 counting backwards from 10 I will attack whatever it is I'm afraid of. I've used this method for saying things that needed to be said and I was afraid of saying. I've used this to pick up snakes, hold spiders and tarantulas, ride glass elevators and climb into a VERY tall roller coaster.

This past weekend I tried to do something along these lines and I failed. I'll try it again the next time the opportunity presents itself - and I'll do it by remembering the big black snake. It's the first time I've failed at this method... and I won't let it happen again.

Haunting Blue Eyes

Originally posted to Myspace Feb 23, 2004


The first time he came to visit me was in a dream when I was only around 7. I had met a boy at school I developed a crush on. For a long time that boy wouldn't pay any attention to me. Finally one day he smiled at me. We started to talk, and eventually, Travis decided he liked me back. The day he admitted to it, I was floating on cloud 9. I was a homely child - it was the first time a boy I had liked actually felt the same way back.

That night I went to sleep, peaceful and happy. The dream that followed haunted me for many years.

I was standing with a flag in my hand. It was a black and white racing checkered flag. Far off, in the distance, stood two people. One was Travis, the boy I liked. The other was a complete stranger. Somewhere in the distance, a shot rang out and the two of them suddenly bolted. They were close for a while, Travis gaining at one point, the stranger at another. As I watched, they made a great arc across the ground, and came running at the white line I found myself standing over. Travis sped up and looked like he was about to win when the stranger suddenly picked up speed and beat Travis by a foot fall.

The stranger walked calmly up to me as though he had not just run a challenging race. His black hair was long and some of it was hanging around his eyes. Still, through the midnight color framing his face, I could see his stunning blue eyes. He reached in, looked me in the face, and opened his mouth to say something. That was when I woke up sitting straight up in bed. It was too late, though. I couldn't see Travis in the same light after that. I started to look into the faces of strangers for the blue eyes that haunted me.

For months I had that dream every time I fell asleep. He never got to say anything because I always woke up. Eventually the dream stopped comming all the time, and started to only come whenever I started to date someone new. Those blue eyes would always come back to haunt me after the first date. It was the new guy in my life and him, always in a race, and he was always the winner.

The dream finally stopped comming all together when I hit about 18. That was 6 years ago now, and for a while I actually tried to have the dream. I tried to think about it as I fell asleep. The dream wouldn't come.

Until 2 nights ago.

It wasn't the same dream, but it was close.

At the end of the dream, the man I had fallen in love with was sitting in a chair, getting ready to leave. His blue eyesstared straight ahead, his black hair framing his face. He had a 2 day growth on his face, and I'd never seen anything more beautiful. 

"I tried to leave you once," he said. "I coudn't stay away. Please, you must find me. I'm here, just waiting for you." 

Once more I woke up.

Those eyes have haunted me ever since - both sleeping and awake. I cant seem to get them out of my mind. I search in the face of strangers once more as I did when I was a kid, looking for the blue eyes that are waiting for me - always reaching for me.

Perhaps I'm too much of a romantic - and perhaps not. Part of me wonders if the man from my dream actually exists. I've heard people express themselves by saying "He was the man of my dreams," but in all reality, how many were of true dreams rather than an idea they had in mind? I venture to guess not many.