“Three hundred and seventy-five dollars.”
Robert Earl looked at the young woman wearing a blue apron with the store’s name stitched on the pocket. “That’s not much,” he said, though he’d almost said, “Are you outta your mind?”
“I’m just looking,” he told her.
“If you need anything, give me a nod,” the woman said before moving on.
Robert Earl gave the snake another longing look before walking out.
Getting into his truck, he said, “Fuck!” He only had ten dollars and some change. All the snakes he’d owned someone had given him or he’d caught himself; he had no idea a snake could cost so much. Plus he’d driven all the way out here, Greenville, Mississippi. Fifty miles!
The gas hand was almost on E. “Fuck!”
He hadn’t tossed the F-bomb since his tour in the Marine Corps. “Fuck!” It felt good to say it. He started the truck and drove off. “Fuck!”
A rusty Ford pickup pulling a lone cow in a cattle trailer slowed him on the narrow two-lane bridge over the Mississippi River.
The Ford slowed to walking speed, and Robert Earl could see the driver looking right to left, admiring the picturesque view of gulls and pigeons gliding below an azure sky and above a collage of painted fields dotted with grazing cows and rusty tin buildings halved by a band of muddy-brown water.
Robert Earl blew the horn. The wind shifted and the stench of cow manure hit him full face. Blew the horn again. The driver, an elderly white man—who else?—stuck his hand out the window and waved, as if he were in a parade.
“Fuck!” Robert Earl shouted. “Get out the damn way, you coot!”
The Ford inched along even slower. For the next fifteen minutes it took to cross the half-mile long bridge, Robert Earl cursed and screamed, veins pulsing in his forehead, cow manure assaulting his nostrils, and the old fart up ahead waving and strolling along as if he were lead float in the Rose Parade.
At the foot of the bridge, just past the sign that said Arkansas, The Land of Opportunity, Robert Earl jerked his truck in the opposite lane, an eighteen-wheeler approaching less than a quarter mile away, and drove alongside the Ford. “Get out the damn way, grandpa!”
The eighteen-wheeler less than a block away now, air horn blaring, Robert Earl jerked his truck in front of the Ford, narrowly missing the bumper.
Maybe I should have let that big rig hit me, he thought. End my misery. Rotten rascal had a million dollars and couldn’t leave me a rusty dime. He should’ve been able to walk in the pet store and buy four or five snakes.
Instead he had to walk out in shame, the assistant well aware he didn’t have enough money to buy a guppy, much less an expensive boa constrictor.
He and Estafay had a little money in a cookie jar, but he couldn’t get it, not with the rent due and the light bill two days past the shut-off notice. Estafay would blow a fuse if she had to sit in the dark while he trained his new high-dollar snake in the backyard.
“Fuck!”
An hour later Robert Earl trudged up Maumelle Trail. The time had come for him to take matters in his own hands. He would convince Ruth Ann to give him some of the money; would not take no for an answer.
No sireee!
He patted the back pocket of his overalls. The knife was there. He hoped he wouldn’t have to use it, but he wouldn’t return to his truck without a guarantee he’d get some of that money.
The sun would be setting soon, and though he knew these woods like the back of his hand, he didn’t want to be out here at night. Ruth Ann’s boy didn’t have good sense; no telling what he might do if there were a full moon.
He walked up to the cabin and knocked on the door. No one answered. He pushed it open and stepped in. Ruth Ann lay asleep on an orange couch.
Nudging her awake, he said, “We need to talk.”
Ruth Ann stared at him dreamily, and then jumped to her feet, a hand over her mouth.
“We need to talk, Ruth Ann.”
She backed away from him. “Robert Earl!” she shouted, looking about the room. “Hello! Robert Earl is here! He’s in the cabin… with me!”
“What’s wrong with you? Why you acting crazy? Where’s the boy?”
“There’s nothing wrong with me, Robert Earl!” Ruth Ann shouted even louder. “What makes you think there could possibly be something wrong with me!”
“Why you hollering?”
“Am I hollering, Robert Earl?” Trembling: “Am I hollering, Robert Earl?”
“Yes, you’re hollering, making me nervous.” He sat down on the couch. “We need to talk. I need some of that money, and I won’t take no for an answer.”
“No problem!” She backed up against the wall. “No problem, Robert Earl! Hello!”
“I wish you stop hollering. I ain’t deaf. Sit down and talk to me.”
“I don’t want to sit down! Hello! I’m fine here!”
“I need some of that money. I have a dream. Ain’t got a dime to my name. It ain’t fair Daddy giving you all the money. You know he was wrong. If you don’t give me some…” He produced a red pocketknife and flipped open a four-inch blade.
Ruth Ann screamed.
Robert Earl looked at the blade and then up at Ruth Ann, her eyes bucked, tongue wriggling as she screamed. “I don’t get some of the money, I’m gonna hurt myself!”
“Freeze, brain trauma!” Shirley shouted, bursting into the cabin with a gun in her hand.
Robert Earl threw his hands up. “What the—Shirley, what are you doing?”
“Drop the knife!”
Robert Earl threw it down. “Shirley, watch where you’re pointing that thing.”
“You sure took a long time,” Ruth Ann said. “I could’ve been dead.”
“I went looking for the lady’s restroom. Couldn’t find it.”
“Shirley, what’s going on? Stop pointing that thing at me!”
“So it was you, Robert Earl,” Shirley said. “Who would’ve imagined? I didn’t think you had enough sense to jaywalk without getting run over.”
“Shirley, what are you talking about?”
“Don’t play dumber than usual. You killed Daddy and you were fixin’ to kill Ruth Ann. Tie him up, Ruth Ann.”
“Tie him up? Tie him up with what?”
“What y’all been smoking up here? I didn’t kill Daddy. Tie me up? For what?”
“Shirley,” Ruth Ann said, “he didn’t threaten to kill me. He said if I didn’t give him some of the money he would hurt himself.”
Robert Earl said, “I mean it, too. If I don’t get some of Daddy’s money I’m going to do something bad to myself.”
Shirley lowered the gun to her side. “What were you going to do, Robert Earl? Nick yourself?”
“Wouldna gone that far. I was just going to hold the knife to my throat.”
“For Pete’s sake!” Shirley said.
“How ’bout it, Ruth Ann?” Robert Earl said.
“How about what?”
“The money? I’ve quit my job. Bills due. Estafay plans to get a lot of cosmetic surgery. Not to mention—”
“She can sure use it,” Shirley said.
“—my dream.”
“The snake gas station?” Ruth Ann said.
“Combination gas station and exotic snake farm. There’s a snake in Greenville I need to buy before somebody else gets it.”
“You call that a dream?” Shirley said.
“Yes, I do.”
“You need a mule.”
“Can a mule do tricks?”
“Did any number of your teachers suddenly disappear, left town without telling a soul?”
“Why you keep asking about my childhood?” To Ruth Ann: “Sis, you’re not letting your oldest brother, your only straight brother, lose his dream and get kicked out on the street, are you? I’m begging you. Please! If I had money you wouldn’t have to ask—I’d just give it to you.”