Jonah's Gourd Vine by Zora Neale Hurston Page A

John’s chance was gone. He kept on thinking, however, and he kept on making imaginary speeches to her. Speeches full of big words that would make her gasp and do him “reverence.” He was glad when he was selected as the soldier to sing opposite Lucy in the duet, “Oh Soldier, Will You Marry Me?” It meant something more than singing with gestures beside a girl. Maybe she would realize that he could learn things too, even if she could read the better. He meant to change all that as quickly as possible. One day he shyly overtook her on her way home.
    â€œDey tell me you kin run fast,” he began awkwardly.
    â€œDey told you right,” Lucy answered saucily, “whoever tole you. Ah kin outrun most anybody ’round heah.”
    â€œLess we race tuh dat sweet-gum tree and see who kin beat,” John challenged.
    They were off. Lucy’s thin little legs pumping up and down. The starchy strings of her blue sunbonnet fluttering under her chin, and her bonnet lying back of her neck.
    â€œAh beat yuh!” John gloated over the foot or two that he had gained with difficulty.
    â€œYeah, you beat me, but look how much mo’ legs you got to run wid,” Lucy retorted. “Bet if Ah had dem legs nobody couldn’t never outrun me.”
    â€œAh didn’t mean tuh beat yuh. Gee, us done come uh good ways! How much further you live from heah, Lucy?”
    â€œOh uh little ways cross de branch.”
    â€œB’lieve Ah’ll go see how yo’ ole branch look. Maybe it got uh heap uh fish in it.”
    â€œâ€™Tain’t got no fish in it worth talkin’ ’bout. ’Tain’t hardly knee deep, John, but iss uh great big ole snake down dere.”
    â€œWhut kinda snake?”
    â€œUh great big ole cotton-mouf moccasin. He skeers me,John. Everytime Ah go ’cross dat foot-log Ah think maybe Ah might fall in and den he’ll bite me, or he might reah hisself up and bite me anyhow.”
    â€œHow come y’all don’t take and kill ’im?”
    â€œWho you reckon goin’ down in de water tuh strain wid uh moccasin? He got uh hole back under the bank where you kin see ’im, but you can’t git ’im ’thout you wuz down in de branch. He lay all ’round dere on de ground and even on de foot-log, but when he see somebody comin’ he go in his hole, all ready for yuh and lay dere and dare yuh tuh bother ’im.”
    â€œYou jes’ show ’im tuh me. Ah can’t stand tuh be aggravated by no ole snake and then agin Ah don’t want ’im slurrin’ you.”
    â€œSh-sh, watch out, John! He ’round heah somewhere. Can’t you smell ’im? Dere he is goin’ in his hole!”
    John took a good look at the snake, then looked all about him for a weapon. Finding none he sat down and began to remove his shoes.
    â€œYou ain’t goin’ in dat branch!” Lucy gasped.
    â€œTurn me go, Lucy. If you didn’t want yo’ ole snake kilt yuh oughta not showed ’im tuh me.” He exulted, but pretended not to see her concern was for him.
    He looked carefully to see that no other snakes were about, then stepped cautiously down into the water. The snake went on guard, slowly, insolently. Lucy was terrified. Suddenly, he snatched the foot-log from its place and, leaning far back to give it purchase, he rammed it home upon the big snake and held it there. The snake bit at the log again and again in its agony, but finally the biting and the thrashing ceased. John fished the snake out and stretched it upon the grass.
    â€œOoh, John, Ahm so glad you kilt dat ole devil. He been right dere skeerin’ folks since befo’ Ah wuz borned.”
    â€œHe won’t skeer nobody else, lessen dey skeered uh dead snakes,” John answered in the tone that boys use to girls on such occasions.
    â€œReckon his mate ain’t gonna follow us and try tuh bite us for killin’ dis