bearskin.’’
‘‘What are you talking about?’’
‘‘When everyone hears what we have, they’ll come from all over to see it.’’
‘‘You expect me to put that thing out there where my customers are? Woman, are you demented or just plain stupid?’’
She sucked in her breath. ‘‘There is no need to get testy, Hamilton. This is an excellent plan.’’ She snapped the crate lid shut. ‘‘Why, it’s even an answer to prayer.’’
‘‘An answer to prayer? Satan uses snakes, Essie, not God.’’
She rose to her full height and brushed the dust from her skirts. ‘‘Don’t be ridiculous. God made it and He gave it to me.’’
‘‘Then you can jolly well take it back home with you. I’ll not risk injuring one of my customers.’’
‘‘No, no,’’ she said, clasping her hands in an effort to remain patient. ‘‘It’s not a rattlesnake. It’s not poisonous at all. It’s a prairie king snake. They’re quite harmless and not nearly as irritable as other kinds of snakes.’’
They stood facing each other, the only sound that of the snake’s tail buzzing inside the cracker box.
‘‘Then why is it rattling?’’ he asked.
‘‘It’s only shaking its tail, trying to scare off its enemies. You would, too, if you’d been living in the wild all this time and suddenly found yourself confined to a cracker box. It will settle down.’’
‘‘And what if it doesn’t?’’ he said, his voice rising.
‘‘Hush,’’ she whispered. ‘‘Someone will hear you.’’
‘‘I want that snake out of here.’’
She grabbed his shirt-sleeve. ‘‘Don’t you see? It’s perfect. Most snakes have scars from encounters with their enemies. But this one— this one has no bobbed tail, puckered wound, healed sore or anything. It’s as if God had been protecting it all this time just for us. Why, never have I caught such an exquisite specimen.’’
‘‘ You caught that thing?’’
She cocked her head. ‘‘Well, of course. Where do you think I got it? The Flour, Feed and Liquor Store?’’
He yanked his arm free. ‘‘It will scare more customers away than it will bring in.’’
‘‘I don’t think so. Especially if we have a snake-naming contest.’’
He crossed his arms.
‘‘Everyone can submit names for the snake,’’ she explained, ‘‘and then we can put it to a vote and whoever wins can receive a prize from the store.’’ She tapped her fingernail against her apron. ‘‘But it must be a big prize. Something that will generate excitement . . . and sales, of course.’’
‘‘A prize? Like what?’’
‘‘Oh, I don’t know. A pocket watch or a brooch or a . . . a camera!
That would be perfect. It would appeal to men, women, and children alike.’’
‘‘A camera? That’s way too much money. I’m not giving away a camera.’’
‘‘I’m not talking about a new order. I’m talking about overstock. Why, you have a Hawkeye Junior up on the shelf right there. Never been opened. I found it when I cleaned up yesterday.’’
He scanned the shelves, then grabbed a large rectangular box. ‘‘This thing costs seven dollars and twenty cents.’’
‘‘Well, yes, but to keep using it, the customer will have to buy glass plates, which cost ninety cents each, or a roll of film, which is fifty-five. Besides, you have two Hawkeyes out in the store going nowhere.’’
He glanced down at the peach crate and scratched the back of his head. ‘‘I don’t know, Essie.’’
‘‘I do. We’ll get the whole community involved. We can take nominations for names this week, give everyone the following week to cast their vote, and announce the winner of the prize the Saturday after that. Townsfolk will talk about the contest in their parlors, at their dinner tables, and at their social club meetings. And if for no other reason than curiosity, they’ll come in to see the snake.’’
She held her breath. She knew it would work. She’d make sure of
‘‘What are you talking about?’’
‘‘When everyone hears what we have, they’ll come from all over to see it.’’
‘‘You expect me to put that thing out there where my customers are? Woman, are you demented or just plain stupid?’’
She sucked in her breath. ‘‘There is no need to get testy, Hamilton. This is an excellent plan.’’ She snapped the crate lid shut. ‘‘Why, it’s even an answer to prayer.’’
‘‘An answer to prayer? Satan uses snakes, Essie, not God.’’
She rose to her full height and brushed the dust from her skirts. ‘‘Don’t be ridiculous. God made it and He gave it to me.’’
‘‘Then you can jolly well take it back home with you. I’ll not risk injuring one of my customers.’’
‘‘No, no,’’ she said, clasping her hands in an effort to remain patient. ‘‘It’s not a rattlesnake. It’s not poisonous at all. It’s a prairie king snake. They’re quite harmless and not nearly as irritable as other kinds of snakes.’’
They stood facing each other, the only sound that of the snake’s tail buzzing inside the cracker box.
‘‘Then why is it rattling?’’ he asked.
‘‘It’s only shaking its tail, trying to scare off its enemies. You would, too, if you’d been living in the wild all this time and suddenly found yourself confined to a cracker box. It will settle down.’’
‘‘And what if it doesn’t?’’ he said, his voice rising.
‘‘Hush,’’ she whispered. ‘‘Someone will hear you.’’
‘‘I want that snake out of here.’’
She grabbed his shirt-sleeve. ‘‘Don’t you see? It’s perfect. Most snakes have scars from encounters with their enemies. But this one— this one has no bobbed tail, puckered wound, healed sore or anything. It’s as if God had been protecting it all this time just for us. Why, never have I caught such an exquisite specimen.’’
‘‘ You caught that thing?’’
She cocked her head. ‘‘Well, of course. Where do you think I got it? The Flour, Feed and Liquor Store?’’
He yanked his arm free. ‘‘It will scare more customers away than it will bring in.’’
‘‘I don’t think so. Especially if we have a snake-naming contest.’’
He crossed his arms.
‘‘Everyone can submit names for the snake,’’ she explained, ‘‘and then we can put it to a vote and whoever wins can receive a prize from the store.’’ She tapped her fingernail against her apron. ‘‘But it must be a big prize. Something that will generate excitement . . . and sales, of course.’’
‘‘A prize? Like what?’’
‘‘Oh, I don’t know. A pocket watch or a brooch or a . . . a camera!
That would be perfect. It would appeal to men, women, and children alike.’’
‘‘A camera? That’s way too much money. I’m not giving away a camera.’’
‘‘I’m not talking about a new order. I’m talking about overstock. Why, you have a Hawkeye Junior up on the shelf right there. Never been opened. I found it when I cleaned up yesterday.’’
He scanned the shelves, then grabbed a large rectangular box. ‘‘This thing costs seven dollars and twenty cents.’’
‘‘Well, yes, but to keep using it, the customer will have to buy glass plates, which cost ninety cents each, or a roll of film, which is fifty-five. Besides, you have two Hawkeyes out in the store going nowhere.’’
He glanced down at the peach crate and scratched the back of his head. ‘‘I don’t know, Essie.’’
‘‘I do. We’ll get the whole community involved. We can take nominations for names this week, give everyone the following week to cast their vote, and announce the winner of the prize the Saturday after that. Townsfolk will talk about the contest in their parlors, at their dinner tables, and at their social club meetings. And if for no other reason than curiosity, they’ll come in to see the snake.’’
She held her breath. She knew it would work. She’d make sure of
Similar Books
