B. D. Love

Black Snake

from A Day in the Life of a Severed Head

"There’s something I’ve always wanted to ask you, William." Johnny Umemoto tapped a pill from an amber bottle and swallowed it quickly with a sip of diet soda.

"Ask away," William Dietrich responded.

"Why is it that you never married?"

"That’s awfully personal, Johnny." Paul Kim swirled the cold coffee around the bottom of his cup.

"It’s all right," William Dietrich said. "I almost did marry once, Back during the war-World War Two. I met a little girl in a bar, a Philippina. Her name was Corrina. I was all set to bring her back with me to the States, but-"

"A bar girl?" the minister asked.

"She was a wonderful girl, Corrina," William Dietrich continued. "But things just didn’t work out."

George Nicomedes’s eyes widened. "Those pictures you’ve got hanging in your workshop. That Asian lady. The beauty queen-"

William Dietrich sighed and repeated the name: "Corrina."

"How romantic you were-how romantic you are, William!" Rosalva Garcia exclaimed.

Paul Kim laughed. "And we all thought you were just an old-what is it the young people say these days?-horndog."

Tessie Hill glanced over her shoulder at the severed head. This was the first severed head she had ever seen, although her sons had once tried to get her to watch a video called "Faces of Death" that had footage of a lot of graphic dismemberments and beheadings and so -on. The boys said the video was very popular with all the young people in the neighborhood.

"What has become of us?" Tessie Hill asked aloud of no one in particular.

In the meat case, the severed head lay. Over the afternoon, there had been a small change in its expression. Now, it seemed almost to be smiling, though nightmarishly. Its eyes inclined toward heaven, it looked as if it were imploring God to give it a second chance.

Tessie Hill spoke again.

"Now if you all have a set of ears to listen and a mind to ponder what you hear, I will tell you the real story of that poor gentleman taking up space in the meat case behind me.

Everyone is aware of the general circumstances of the Vietnam War, of course. What many probably would not know is that a disproportionate number of our young black men did the fighting for this country. Some of them did it because they wanted to serve. Some of them did it to escape the ghetto, to make a life for themselves. Some of them just did it to prove themselves. Not being a man, I wouldn’t for the life of me know what it was they had to prove.

Our guest was a soldier, a private. His company was mostly black, with a few Latinos and of course a couple of white boys and their commanding officer, who was white, naturally. They were on a patrol deep in the jungle.

Now all those jungle sounds rattled most of those young soldiers. They’d hear a monkey screech and they’d jump out of their sleep as if they were poked with a hot iron. Was it the enemy? Was some wild animal going to come sneaking out of the jungle and gobble them all up? Then there were the snakes, dangling from the trees. Sometimes there were so many of them, they looked like some kind of net, or like a dark chandelier.

This one soldier-Russell was his name-didn’t frighten so easily. He was a Louisiana boy, raised up in bayou country. He knew all there was to know about the creatures of the night. Or at least he thought he did, until that one lamentable night he came across the snake sisters.

The company was somewhere deep in country, wandering, pretending they weren’t lost. It was late. The officer barked at them to set up camp. They were in the middle of it when the enemy set upon them. There was gunfire coming at them from every which way. Not a man came out of that attack alive, except for Russell. Early in the attack, a bullet grazed his head, knocking him unconscious. Seeing the blood issuing from the wound, the enemy took him for dead. He regained consciousness hours later. Gazing over the field of corpses, he quickly realized what had taken place. The enemy had collected everything of use: the canteens, the rations, the weapons. He had no choice but to move on alone through the jungle.

Russell wandered for days, hot and thirsty, without a map or any way to signal where he was. In the mornings he’d lick the dew collected in the jungle plants. He slept when he could, usually during the heat of the day. He marked his trail. He kept on moving. He lived on hope and grubs, whatever he could muster.

He was nearly delirious and sinking toward despair. A jungle bug had gotten ahold of him. He felt like he was burning up, and his uniform was soaked with sweat. Finally too tired to walk any further, he collapsed beside a tree in a small clearing, closed his eyes and fell into a deep, feverish sleep. He dreamt that the war was over, and he was back home with his wife and children. He dreamt about the faces of the men in his company, the look in their eyes when they knew they were going to die. When that happened, his body shuddered a little and his head jerked. Still, he didn’t wake up. The hours passed. The night fell. The moon rose, full and beautiful, just like the moon of Louisiana.

Now all this while, he was being watched. At the edge of the clearing, not a dozen yards from where Russell slept, two snakes hid in the brush, staring at him in awe. They had never seen anything like him before in their lives.

"He’s very beautiful," Black Snake said to her sister, White Snake.

"Mmm." White Snake twisted this way and that.

"Look at his arms. So muscular. Imagine, sister, being held by those strong arms."

"I am imagining."

"Imagine dancing, like a creature with limbs."

"Yes. Yes." White snake hissed.

Both of them hissed in amazement.

"I don’t think I can live any longer if I’m not with him," Black Snake said. She had fallen hopelessly in love.

"You’ve lost your mind," said the paler sister. "He is a human being and you are a snake. How do you propose to win his heart? He would be repulsed at the sight of you."

"I could speak to him from my heart. I could win him with my words."

"Sister, you live in your dreams."

Black Snake thought for a while, then she knew what she had to do.

"I’ll pray to the Moon Lady and ask for her help," she announced.

"Do whatever you like," her sister replied. "But don’t blame me when your dreams fail to come true."

Black Snake closed her eyes and began her silent prayers to the Moon Lady. Her desires were simple. All she wished was to be transformed into a human woman so that she could be with the beautiful man and love him and bear his children. She longed only to be his devoted wife until they both grew old and died and were buried beside one another, so that their dust could mingle for eternity.

Little did Black Snake know that her sister, White Snake, was doing some praying on her own. White Snake, too, prayed to become human so that she could marry the beautiful man asleep by the tree. But White Snake had other intentions, beyond marriage. She dreamed of becoming rich, of owning all the beautiful things she had seen women own in the mansions of the towns. She dreamed of beautiful gowns and jewelry, of perfumes and fine foods. She was tired of the rats and lizards. She wanted to eat like an elegant woman, off a plate, with enameled chopsticks, and to drink water from the purest crystal.

The two sisters prayed so hard, they became exhausted and fell asleep. That was when the miracle occurred. The Moon Lady came to Black Snake in a dream. She was dazzling. Even in the dream, Black Snake was afraid to look at her directly. She was afraid she would be blinded by the radiance.

The Moon Lady spoke to Black Snake.

"I have listened to your prayers, and I have found you to be pure in your heart. I will give you what you wish."

The Moon Lady held out a necklace. The chain was gold, and the stone was a pure white jade.

"As long as you wear this necklace, you will appear in human form," the Moon Lady said, then disappeared from Black Snake’s dream.

The Moon Lady also appeared to White Snake as she dreamt, but her message was not a good one.

"I have listened to your prayers, and I have judged you to be selfish, vain and arrogant," the Moon Lady said in a very stern tone. "I will never grant your wish. From now until the end of time, you will continue to crawl on your belly. You will eat only the vermin of the earth. You will never know the softness of silk, or the warmth of a lover’s embrace."

Then she disappeared from White Snake’s dream.

The two sisters woke up at the same moment, but only one of them had been transformed.

Black Snake studied her new form, then raised herself on legs for the first time. The world was completely different. She felt as if she stood as tall as the clouds were high. She looked at the moonlight glancing off the jungle plants. She looked at her arms. They were beautiful, dark as chocolate and slender. Her fingers were long, thin but powerful. She ran to a small pond not far away and looked at her reflection in it. Surrounded by the soft glow of the moonlight, the face she found was most beautiful indeed.

She clutched the jade medallion.

"Thank you, Moon Lady," she said, again and again.

Watching all this was White Snake. She stared with jealousy at her sister, kneeling by the pool of water.

"Congratulations, sister," she hissed. "I see that the Moon Lady has granted your wish."

Black Snake exclaimed how happy she was.

"I am happy for you," her sister lied.

Suddenly, Black Snake began to fret.

"What do I do now?"’ She asked her sister. Her forehead was creased with fear and confusion. "I don’t know how to begin to win his heart."

"Start by taking him some water," White Snake suggested. "No doubt, he would appreciate a drink in his condition."

Black Snake thanked her sister and quickly scooped up some cool, fresh water in the leaf of a tree.

Russell awoke with the taste of fresh water on his lips. He had taken several deep sips before he even thought to look up to see who was nursing him. When he saw Black Snake, his eyes grew wide. She was surely the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

Black Snake, with her powerful understanding of nature, gathered up a batch of healing herbs, and soon Russell’s fever had broken and he was well on the mend. She brought him fruits and plants to eat, to help him regain his strength. Several days passed. When he was up and on his feet, Black Snake finally asked the question she had been holding inside her aching heart.

"What do you wish of me?" She looked earnestly into his dark eyes.

Russell thought only for a moment before giving his reply.

"Can you get me out of here?" he asked. "Can you get me to a base, a camp, anything? I want to get out of here. I want to go home."

This wasn’t the answer Black Snake had been hoping for, but her love for the man was so great that she could only consent to his request.

Black Snake knew the location of one encampment. Not long before, she had been close enough to feel the rumbling of the vehicles and to hear the men’s voices, speaking the same language as the man she loved, the man whose life she had restored. It was a two-day journey, now that she had taken on human form.

"I know a place," she said. "I will take you there."

The three of them began their trek through the jungle-Black Snake, Private Russell, and White Snake following behind, where she could neither be seen nor heard. Black Snake felt her heart break a little more with each step closer she came to giving up her love for good. At dusk of the second day, she stopped a little way from the camp. They could have arrived there before nightfall, but she wanted one last night to spend looking at the man’s face and dreaming about the life she wished so much that she could have.

"Sister," White Snake hissed from the limb of a tree. She was eye to eye with Black Snake.

"He will never love me," Black Snake said in dejection.

"Not true," White Snake said. "Why don’t you take matters into your own hands?"

Black Snake was perplexed.

"What do you mean?"

"I know of some herbs. Powerful herbs. I learned of them from the women in the mountains. They are said to have a certain effect upon men."

Black Snake listened as her sister explained how to gather and administer these herbs. She knew, in her heart, that it was wrong to deceive the man, but it was the voice of love, not the voice of her conscience, that finally won the debate for her soul. As for White Snake, her sisterly advice was typically self-serving. She was so smitten with the soldier that she would rather see him enchanted by Black Snake than returned to his fellows and lost forever.

Doing as she was instructed, Black Snake mixed the herbs.

"Drink this," she said, offering the man a cup of bitter liquid. "This will protect you from sickness during your journey home."

Private Russell emptied the cup in one gulp. He winced at the taste of it.

In moments, he grew dizzy. One by one, like ghosts, the memories of his home, his wife, his children faded and disappeared. His mind was empty. He turned to look at Black Snake, and at once fell hopelessly in love.

The man built a hut in a secluded mountainside where Black Snake knew the war would never come. Their life was simple and beautiful. There was a small stream with abundant fish. The forest provided fruits and tubers. Sometimes, the man would hunt for meat with a bow and arrow he had made from a branch of a sapling. They did what little work was necessary in the morning hours, relaxed in the heat of day, and made passionate love at night. It wasn’t long before Black Snake was pregnant.

White Snake watched all this from the edge of the clearing. She had been living there all the while, eating small rodents and lizards and the like. She grew more jealous with every passing day.

"Why should my sister have all the good fortune?" She thought to herself. "I could give him ten sons for every one she can give him."

White Snake thought and thought, and finally came up with a plan.

One day, while Russell was off in the mountains, hunting for meat, White Snake appeared on the limb outside the window of the hut.

"Sister," she hissed.

"Yes, sister?" Black Snake asked. She was already dreamy with her baby inside.

"I won’t waste words. I fear for your safety." Black Snake said, her voice aching with concern.

"Why?" Black Snake asked dreamily. "I have more than I’d ever dreamed of."

"It’s not that," Black Snake whispered. "It’s the soldiers. American soldiers."

"Soldiers?"

"Haven’t you heard them? Haven’t you felt the pounding of their boots on the earth?"

Black Snake admitted that she had not. She was fully human now, and her senses were limited to those of a normal woman.

"If they find your husband, you know what they’ll do."

Take him away from me, back to his country, Black Snake thought to herself. Panicked, she thought they might even kill him.

"What am I to do?" Black Snake’s heart tumbled over and over in panic.

"I will help you," White Snake said. "This is my plan."

White Snake told her sister that she herself would go to the American soldiers. She would tell them that she had been taken prisoner by the Viet Cong. She would say that she had escaped and that she could lead them to the enemy camp. She knew their location, it was a day’s journey, no more, and when they came upon the Viet Cong, she would slip away and return, leaving them to their carnage.

The plan made sense to Black Snake, but there was one troubling condition.

White Snake had to wear the necklace, so that she would appear in human form.

"For the sake of yourself, your husband and your unborn child, take off the necklace," White Snake pleaded with her sister.

When it was done, White Snake stood, tall and slender, with milk-white skin and golden hair. Black Snake had returned to her original form, and White Snake showed her the place at the edge of the clearing where she had been lying, waiting and watching.

White Snake set off into the forest, but she didn’t go to the American soldiers who hadn’t really existed in the first place.

She went to gather herbs.

That evening, Black Snake watched from the tall grass in confusion and dismay, hearing her sister’s voice carried by the wind and the earth.

Her husband had returned from the hunt not to find his beautiful dark-skinned wife, but a pale-skinned woman who seemed to know him, although he couldn’t remember anything about her.

"It’s a fever," White Snake said. "It has made you delirious, unable even to recognize your own wife. Here. Drink these herbs. They will help you to remember."

Russell drank as he was told, and the memories of his happy life with Black Snake disappeared from his thoughts. Turning his eyes to White Snake, he fell immediately in love.

Black Snake watched in horror from the tall grass as her sister lived the life meant for her. In the mornings she sliced fruit and ate. In the afternoons, she napped beside the man. Paralyzed with shame, Black Snake hid in the tall grass and wept. At night, she retreated deep into the forest so she wouldn’t have to listen to the rumblings of the couple on their conjugal mat.

One day, unable to bear the pain any longer, Black Snake came to the hut while the man was out hunting for meat.

"Sister," Black Snake hissed through the window. "You’ve broken your word to me. By blood, you owe it to me to give me back the necklace, which is mine, a gift of the Moon Lady."

"You are delirious, snake," her sister laughed. "Go take some herbs to break the fever."

Black Snake’s despair turned into rage.

"Sister!" she hissed.

"Go. Shoo." White Snake motioned with her wrist. "Or I’ll flatten you with a broom."

Black Snake could endure no more.

"If you don"t return the necklace to me, I swear, tonight when the full moon rises, I will once more pray to the Moon Lady. I will tell her the evil you have done, and beg her to punish you for your sins."

"Go!" White Snake shouted, reaching for the broom.

Black Snake slithered away into the tall grass.

Almost immediately, White Snake began to worry. What if Black Snake’s prayers did indeed reach the Moon Lady? What terrible punishment might be in store for her? She might lose everything. Once again, she devised a plan.

When the man returned, she took his hand and drew him to their mat. She pulled him down beside her and whispered into his ear.

"There is something I want from you," she said just loud enough for him to hear.

"Anything," he said.

"Your baby," she said.

"In time," the man said sadly. "It will come in time."

In fact, White Snake had been pregnant with his baby for a month, but she had hidden this fact from him, intending to reveal the truth at a time when it would be most advantageous to her.

"Perhaps when you were ill, something happened to you," White Snake suggested. "Perhaps something happened to make you unable to father a child?"

Russell closed his eyes and bit his lip. The thought had more than once crossed his mind.

"It"s all right," White Snake said, her voice like silk. "I believe I know a cure."

The man sprang up.

"Herbs?" He paced in a small circle.

"No," White Snake toyed with the tip of her blonde braid. "It is something else. Something much more powerful than herbs."

She whispered in his ear what he needed to do.

That night, White Snake prepared a great meal. Roasting over the coals of the fire were several parcels made of banana leaves. Wrapped inside them, steaming in the heat, was the flesh of Black Snake and her infant son, never to be born. White Snake had known exactly where the serpent would be hiding and had directed the man there. It took two arrows to kill the mother. The man slit the infant snake’s throat with the knife he used to skin the flesh.

As White Snake watched on, the man feasted on the tender flesh, cooked to perfection in the banana leaves over the hot coals and fragrant with spices White Snake had collected as the man cleaned the carcasses.

The story would have ended here, with the man unwittingly eating the flesh of his wife and unborn child. However, there is more.

Just before she died, as she twisted around the shaft of the arrow, which had pierced her just below the neck and now anchored her to the earth, Black Snake did indeed manage to send a prayer to the Moon Lady. Because of her terrible pain, her voice was weak and barely a whisper. It took a long time to drift heavenward and reach the goddess, but finally it did. She listened in anger and sorrow.

The Moon Lady appeared in the hut just as the man was swallowing the last piece of flesh. Again, she was dazzling, but this time her radiance inspired only terror. She knew from the smell of the roasted flesh and the fear in White Snake’s eyes exactly what had just transpired.

"White Snake!" the Moon Lady thundered. "You have broken the most sacred of laws of heaven and earth."

White Snake stood in silence, for she had no defense.

"You have betrayed your sister and seduced her husband, whom you have tricked into murdering his own wife and consuming her flesh as well as the flesh of his unborn son."

The Moon Lady raised her hand.

"Let the man know you as you truly are."

With a wave of the Moon Lady’s hand, White Snake was transformed again into a serpent. The man looked away, repulsed.

"Even the life of a serpent is too good for you now," the Moon Lady decreed. "From this moment on, you will have the limbs you always wished for-more limbs, in fact, than you have ever dreamed of."

With a wave of the hand, White Snake was again transformed, this time into a millipede, the vilest of all the creatures who crawl the forest floor. She slithered quickly out the door and into the night.

The Moon Lady again spoke.

"As for you," she said to the man. "Your punishment will be even more severe. From this day on, you are condemned to know the truth of what has taken place, and to retain forever the memory of all that you have done."

In a flash the man remembered everything, and he ran screaming into the jungle.

"That," Tessie Hill concluded, "is the true story of Private Benjamin Russell, as I have reconstructed it, based upon his writings."

"Spoken like a librarian," the merchant remarked.

"His writings?" George Nicomedes snapped. "Now he’s a writer?"

"They were crude notes, actually," Tessie Hill said. "Clumsily written on scraps of paper and collected in a shoebox, secured with twine. It required some effort to put them into an intelligible narrative.

William Dietrich shook his head.

"Is it proper to enquire as to how you came into possession of these writings?" the manicurist asked.

Tessie Hill fanned herself with a napkin. "One comes across all manner of wonders in the public library."

Paul Jeong Kim was again behind the counter, checking the ID of a young man buying beer. The driver’s license was an obvious forgery, but the merchant waved it on anyway.

"Where’s he from?" The young man nervously poked his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the meat case.

The merchant glanced across the store, then joined the severed head in its empty gaze toward heaven.

© 2001 French Bread Publications/B. D. Love

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