a story from "It Ate My Sister"

by Mark Binder 

Episode 6 - "Ellen vs. the Snake"

Our Story So Far...
I've been sick for nearly our whole African safari....
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     I wish I could say that I had a wonderful time in Africa. I wish I could say that it was a life-changing experience, that it connected me deeply with an appreciation for the biodiversity of the planet and the wonders of life. I wish I could say that I made new friends and had so many experiences that I can't wait to go back.

     Instead I was sick as a dog -- a very sick dog -- a skinny old flea-ridden flatulent mangy cur with sores and... Well, you get the idea.

     The drive to our campsite was a blur. We stopped seven more times and I vomited eight. (Ellen was furious at me for ruining her new safari blouse, but Mom said that it was drip-and-dry and the bile would wash out. Mom was right, but Ellen still refused to wear the shirt again.)

     I tried to keep hydrated, but everything that went down came back up. There wasn't enough bottled water in the car, which Dad joked was a good thing because if Nyoka had ten gallons of water, we'd have never made it to our campsite.

     Dad's a doctor, but his bedside manner with me has always been a bit on the insensitive side. Most of his patients are terminally ill. I simply wasn't that sick, and he didn't know how to relate. He said that I didn't have any of the symptoms of malaria or sleeping sickness or the plague, and that the symptoms had arrived too quickly for those anyway. Probably I just had Travelers' Diarrhea, and would be better in a day or so.

     Mom was more sympathetic. She held my hand and changed the barf bucket, and gave me fresh bottles of water.

     Ellen, of course, was furious. Not only was I ruining her clothing, I was ruining the whole trip. And she had to share the tent with me.

     The next day, when I was still too sick to travel, Nyoka convinced my family that I would be all right with the camp attendants, and they left me there.

     I was all alone in the middle of Africa, running a fever, vomiting, and trying to stay hydrated. One of the kids whose parents worked at the camp brought me a radio, but the only station it picked up was playing disco and it was in the middle of a Bay City Rollers marathon.

     I wanted to die.

     I was having nightmares about snakes crawling out of my breakfast and guys on roller skates chasing me through school. In one dream they caught me, held me down, pulled out cans of hair spray and...

     One morning I woke up, looked out the window of my tent and saw a giraffe walk by.

     For a moment I was sure that I was dreaming or delusional, but then I looked around and realized that I really wasn't home. I was in Africa!

     The tent I was being sick in wasn't the kind of pup tent I was used to on camping trips. It was more like a small hotel room with a wooden floor and a canvas roof and walls. We had two beds, two dressers, two tables and two easy chairs. There was electricity, a small refrigerator, and a sink with running water that I was careful not to touch. There was a front door and a door to a flush toilet and shower room. My parent's tent was next door. They had a king sized bed, so Ellen really couldn't have slept there.

     Every evening my family returned from their expedition, breathless and amazed. They told me in endless details about all the wild animals they had seen.

     "There was a herd of hippos by the river. All around them were other animals, like gazelles and flamingos," Mom said. "We saw a crocodile, but they don't usually bother the hippos, although they might try to eat the babies."

     "I saw a whole family of baboons walking down the middle of the road. They were holding hands," Dad said. "It was like watching a weird tribe of people."

     "We saw a lion with blood on his paws!" Ellen said. "It was fresh from a kill."

     "No way," I whispered.

     "Yes way," Ellen said, nodding her head.

     It wasn't fair. I wanted to go on safari, but every morning Dad would take my temperature and shake his head. I could tell that Mom was getting worried, but Dad explained to her that I was gradually getting better. She wanted to stay with me, but he argued that this was her chance to fill her list of birds. Before she had us kids, Mom used to be an avid bird watcher. That evening she came back and told me she'd seen a secretary bird, Mom's eyes twinkled. Everyone was so happy.

     I wasn't. I read my entire winter reading list in three days, and then had to read this horrible historical romance that Ellen brought with her about some Scottish guy in a kilt, who kept winning women and then leaving them, because his childhood sweetheart and true love was married to somebody else. The sword fights were cool, but the sex scenes probably kept me sick. Eventually they got together, but I really hoped that they lived miserably ever after.

     My fever finally broke on the evening of the last full day we were in the preserve. Mom convinced Nyoka to take me out for a quick ride, but we didn't get too far. My stomach still ached. I saw a giant termite mound, some monkeys in trees, and waaay off in the distance were a bunch of lions lying on rocks. Maybe if we'd been able to get closer I would have felt less like I was just inside a big zoo.

     I managed to eat a little spaghetti with butter for dinner, and kept it down.

     That night I finally slept well, and I woke up at dawn.

     I'd been so sick that I hadn't really heard all the birds and animals squawking and calling. It wasn't very light yet, so I kept my eyes closed and tried to listen. This was my last chance to have a real African experience. It was more than the call of nature--it was a cacophony. I heard all different kinds of birds. I heard a roar, and then another, and then a bellow, which sounded like a hippo. I think I heard the trumpet of an elephant and the screech of a monkey, maybe a whole family of monkeys.

     And then I heard a hiss.

     It was loud. It was right by my left ear. My eyes shot open.

     The snake was staring into my left eyeball. Its eyes were black. Its skin was dark grey with a lighter grey snout. Its tongue was tickling at my cheek.

     "Ellen," I whispered, talking out of the right side of my mouth. "Ellen, there's a snake on my pillow."

     "Shut up," she said.

     "Ellen," I repeated, as softly as I could. "There's a snake on my pillow."

     She sat up, picked up her pillow and was about to hurl it at me.

     "No, please!" I whispered.

     She squinted in the early morning light. Then she saw the snake, and Ellen froze for what seemed like an eternity.

     The snake finished butterfly kissing my cheek, and began slithering past my nose toward my gaping open mouth, which probably looked like a hole big enough to crawl into. I didn't dare close my mouth. I didn't dare move.

     Ellen sighed, stood, and grabbed the snake right behind its jaws. Her hand just snatched out and she was holding it. The tail of the snake began writhing. It was about three feet long and as thick as my arm.

     Its mouth opened wide, and I looked inside, seeing only blackness, fangs and death.

     Ellen shook her head at the snake, opened the door, and threw it as far as she could.

     "There," she said.

     "Is it gone?" I hissed.

     "It's gone," she answered. "It bounced, and then undulated away.  Are you satisfied?"

     "Ellen." I sat up. "That was a black mambo."

     "So?" She rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips. "Next you're going to say it's the most poisonous snake on earth."

     "No," I shook my head. "Just one of the most poisonous. But Black Mambos are one the fastest snakes on earth."

     "Really?" She put her hands on her hips, looked out the door and squinted. "I guess I'm not afraid of snakes after all. Cool." Then she smiled and she looked happier and stronger than she had in a long time. "Hey, little brother, come here. Look at this."

     I lifted myself out of bed and slowly made my way to the door.

     Off in the distance, walking through the grassland as the sun rose were seven elephants and twelve giraffes. There was a herd of gazelle and a pack of wildebeest.

     We didn't really talked about what happened. I thanked her, and she shrugged. We both agreed not to tell Mom and Dad.

     Then Ellen and I got quiet, and sat together on the steps outside our tent, and watched the animals moving across the horizon until the sun was high in the sky, and it was time to pack up and go back home.

The End