Chapter 3: The Hunger Takes Hold

In no time, the snake meat vanished—every plate scraped clean, not a drop of soup left. Neighbors used slices of Wonder Bread to mop up the last bits, eyes glazed.

The men who’d eaten snake meat flushed red, their eyes glittered, wild and feverish, like they’d forgotten how to be human.

I think it was Randy from the auto shop who lunged first, grabbing my sister-in-law’s backside.

She screamed, a desperate, ragged sound that tore through the humid dusk.

But her scream only made things worse, like someone had poured gas on a fire. The men couldn’t hold back—one after another, they lunged at her, no better than wild animals.

I tried to run to her, but someone slammed me to the ground—my face hit dirt, the taste of copper filling my mouth. Dirt filled my mouth. I spat, blinking back tears, and tried to crawl toward her, but boots pressed me down.

I looked at my brother, pleading. He just took a long pull from his Coors Light and turned away, cold as stone.

Mom stood off to the side, waving a wad of bills, shouting, "You gotta pay extra! Sleeping with her costs extra! Fifty bucks a pop!"

Who knows how long it lasted. The sun set, mosquitoes whined, and one by one, the men zipped up and slunk away, each tucking a snake into an old grocery bag or cooler.

Mom counted her money, licking her thumb to separate the bills, already nagging my sister-in-law to raise another batch.

Sister-in-law didn’t say a word. She crawled off the dirt, dress torn and filthy, and stumbled back to her room, empty as a ghost.