Chapter 2: Snake Soup for the Soul

After Mom saw what the snakes could do, she taped a cardboard sign to our front door—a ripped-up Budweiser box scrawled with: "Snakes for sale—one thousand dollars per snake."

The neighbors wandered over, eyeing the snakes and then Mom, all suspicion and side-eye. Old Mrs. Henderson peered through her thick glasses. "Are these snakes really as good as you say? Sounds like a scam to me."

Mom didn’t waste time. She rolled up her sleeves, showing off her faded cross tattoo, and chopped off a snake’s head with a single whack. "Whether they work or not ain’t for me to say."

She dumped the meat into a big iron pot on a fire rack out back. "I’ll stew one for everyone right now. Free samples, just like Costco."

Sister-in-law’s face went pale as a sheet. She stepped close to Mom, voice shaking. "These are lust snakes. You have to take them home to eat. It’s dangerous to—"

Mom slapped her, the sound cracking off the trailer’s aluminum siding. "Who are you to tell me what to do? You think you’re better than us? Say another word and I’ll beat you to death. I’ve taken down bigger bitches than you."

Sister-in-law’s lip bled, a thin red line down her chin. She opened and closed her mouth, gasping like a fish, but didn’t dare say more.

Soon, the smell of meat and burning hickory drifted from the pot, rich and mouthwatering. The smoke curled up through the pines, and someone cracked open a can of Bud Light. The whole trailer park felt like it was holding its breath.

Even Old Jim, who only ate TV dinners, licked his lips. Folks crowded close, eyes hungry. I breathed in deep—it was richer than pork, better than anything from the BBQ joint downtown.

Mom looked around, hands on her hips, proud as a queen. She’d won the lottery and knew it.

Just as I leaned in for another whiff, sister-in-law yanked me back, her nails digging into my arm. She slapped her hand over my nose, her eyes wide and terrified. "Don’t smell it, and don’t eat it. Promise me, Tyler."

Her fingers trembled. I stared at her, confused but scared by the way she clung to me like I was her last hope.

I wanted to ask why, but she just held me tighter, refusing to let go.