our paralleling embraces. I stomped onto Bertha’s body. She tightened around my legs, strangling my erection until I thought it would pop. I ground my heel. We both strained, reacting to one another’s struggle, fighting for our lives of lonely comfort, warm light and small cages.
The teacher went to pull up her shirt, but Drew stopped her. He led her away, probably out to his car or into Rizzo’s office. Their footsteps scurried up the staircase. I grunted, leaned into my heel. Bertha slackened. I burst from the shadows, grabbed her head, and threw it to the floor. She zigzagged, banging into the walls, trying to scale them. I had to touch her, despite Rizzo’s rule, a damn good one. I heaved her over my shoulders, struggling to drop her back into the tank. Under the bright lights, her body slumped, oozed blood from my footprint. There was no helping her, not that I wanted to.
Bertha had cursed me into having something in common with Drew. We’d both touched the snakes.
I headed upstairs and found Drew counting the till. He wasn’t with the teacher, who had disappeared. I scanned for any last customers, locked the front doors.
“Did you see that chick?” Drew said.
“Where’d she go?”
“Bought three of our best heat lamps, a crate of turtle chow, and went on her way.” He licked his fingers, shuffled through the bills.“She’s a teacher. What a looker, too. Wish we had about a hundred more customers like her.”
“Did you give her a Realm of the Reptiles tour?” I pulled the counted till from Drew’s hands, started recounting. It was my job.
“You know it.” Drew punched my shoulder. I didn’t return the smile spreading stupidly across his face. “In fact, she’s bringing her whole class on Monday. Thirty kids.”
“How the hell you gonna fit that many people downstairs at once?” I lost count of the till, the green bills blurring. I started over.
“That’s where you come in. You can tour them around up here, teach them about reptiles and shit, while I give small group tours.”
“You mean, while you screw around with their teacher?”
“What?”
I dropped the till, let it flutter in a messy pile on the counter. “While you touch the snakes?”
“I don’t touch snakes.” Drew looked up to the ceiling, scratched his chin. “I know Rizzo’s rule.”
“You don’t know rules. You don’t know reptiles. Just because you touch these snakes, you think you’re king shit.”
“Look, man,” Drew put his hand on my shoulder, “I don’t touch the snakes.”
“Bullshit.” I grabbed Drew by his blazer lapels, shook him.
“Wait. Wait.” Drew squirmed, pushed his palms in my face. I released him, saw the frightened child in his eyes. He was just a kid playing games, didn’t know any better.
He stumbled away from me. From each pocket of his blazer, he pulled a snake, another from his jeans. He held up his finger for me to wait while he dropped them into an empty tank. He had them everywhere, fearless of their coiling bodies.
“So, yeah, I touch the snakes. I touch them like you can’t.”
I wanted to correct him, lecture him about their bacteria-ridden skin. But I didn’t get a chance. Drew cracked his knuckles, crouched into a wrestling stance, circled me. It was something like the dance I’d seen him do for the teacher, his shoulders bobbing, hips swaying. Rhythmic and natural.
“If violence is all you understand,” Drew said, “so be it.”
Drew pounced.
Our fight didn’t last long. Drew was quick, swatted my ears, but I smothered him quickly, put him in a sleeper until he knelt on the tile floor. I didn’t let go until he stopped squirming, until I lay on top of him, my body engulfing his. For a moment, I thought my sleeper hold had actually made him fall asleep. But he spoke.
“I’ll give you one hundred. Two-thirds split from the teacher’s class.”
“What about Rizzo’s cut?” I released Drew from the hold but remained on top of him.
“Rizzo
The teacher went to pull up her shirt, but Drew stopped her. He led her away, probably out to his car or into Rizzo’s office. Their footsteps scurried up the staircase. I grunted, leaned into my heel. Bertha slackened. I burst from the shadows, grabbed her head, and threw it to the floor. She zigzagged, banging into the walls, trying to scale them. I had to touch her, despite Rizzo’s rule, a damn good one. I heaved her over my shoulders, struggling to drop her back into the tank. Under the bright lights, her body slumped, oozed blood from my footprint. There was no helping her, not that I wanted to.
Bertha had cursed me into having something in common with Drew. We’d both touched the snakes.
I headed upstairs and found Drew counting the till. He wasn’t with the teacher, who had disappeared. I scanned for any last customers, locked the front doors.
“Did you see that chick?” Drew said.
“Where’d she go?”
“Bought three of our best heat lamps, a crate of turtle chow, and went on her way.” He licked his fingers, shuffled through the bills.“She’s a teacher. What a looker, too. Wish we had about a hundred more customers like her.”
“Did you give her a Realm of the Reptiles tour?” I pulled the counted till from Drew’s hands, started recounting. It was my job.
“You know it.” Drew punched my shoulder. I didn’t return the smile spreading stupidly across his face. “In fact, she’s bringing her whole class on Monday. Thirty kids.”
“How the hell you gonna fit that many people downstairs at once?” I lost count of the till, the green bills blurring. I started over.
“That’s where you come in. You can tour them around up here, teach them about reptiles and shit, while I give small group tours.”
“You mean, while you screw around with their teacher?”
“What?”
I dropped the till, let it flutter in a messy pile on the counter. “While you touch the snakes?”
“I don’t touch snakes.” Drew looked up to the ceiling, scratched his chin. “I know Rizzo’s rule.”
“You don’t know rules. You don’t know reptiles. Just because you touch these snakes, you think you’re king shit.”
“Look, man,” Drew put his hand on my shoulder, “I don’t touch the snakes.”
“Bullshit.” I grabbed Drew by his blazer lapels, shook him.
“Wait. Wait.” Drew squirmed, pushed his palms in my face. I released him, saw the frightened child in his eyes. He was just a kid playing games, didn’t know any better.
He stumbled away from me. From each pocket of his blazer, he pulled a snake, another from his jeans. He held up his finger for me to wait while he dropped them into an empty tank. He had them everywhere, fearless of their coiling bodies.
“So, yeah, I touch the snakes. I touch them like you can’t.”
I wanted to correct him, lecture him about their bacteria-ridden skin. But I didn’t get a chance. Drew cracked his knuckles, crouched into a wrestling stance, circled me. It was something like the dance I’d seen him do for the teacher, his shoulders bobbing, hips swaying. Rhythmic and natural.
“If violence is all you understand,” Drew said, “so be it.”
Drew pounced.
Our fight didn’t last long. Drew was quick, swatted my ears, but I smothered him quickly, put him in a sleeper until he knelt on the tile floor. I didn’t let go until he stopped squirming, until I lay on top of him, my body engulfing his. For a moment, I thought my sleeper hold had actually made him fall asleep. But he spoke.
“I’ll give you one hundred. Two-thirds split from the teacher’s class.”
“What about Rizzo’s cut?” I released Drew from the hold but remained on top of him.
“Rizzo
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