Cousin Benny was kind of fun to have around. He was always good for entertainment and maybe even a bit of harmless trouble. My oldest sister might not agree with that.
We were headed to the mountains for a day of tromping around the old home place, wading in freezing creeks, hiking to the lake and beyond, and, of course, a picnic. Mama stayed back in town. I just can’t figure out why she didn’t want to go to the heart of the mountains with her husband and a car full of kids stacked on top of one another. One of those kids was Cousin Benny. When his face wore that cheesy smile that turned up at the corners, his eyes danced with mischief.
All went well. No one fell and busted a limb. No one got cut jumping from rock to rock in the creek. No one froze to death in the ice cold water. No one drowned in the lake. We had our picnic with no incident, and we all drank a belly full of fresh spring water. Back then, we could even belly flop and drink straight from the fast-flowing stream. Cousin Babs once said that the water ran so fast it purified itself every few feet. I believed her! Our bellies believed it, too, and we never got sick.
As the sun gave its warning that it had to rest soon, we all piled into the car for the return trip to town. Big Sis got to sit in the front seat because she was the oldest kid with us – and the most reserved and refined. She was a no-nonsense teenager. There may have been another kid or two crammed in the front, but the rest of us scrawny, wet, dirty kids climbed in the back seat, including Cousin Benny.
Those old cars could go anywhere. It didn’t matter if it was a smooth paved road or two parallel dirt trails with tall grass growing in between. There was no trouble fording the creeks. If we hit a rock, that old car just bounced up onto another and off we’d go, the crunching sound of river rocks beneath as they spit out from under the tires. Hitting the rocks and bumps in the road was like riding a bucking bronc.
We hit a deep hole and catapulted out. Cousin Benny let out a shriek. Daddy stopped the car, “What’s the matter?” He didn’t see any blood and no one was missing. Cousin Benny said, “My snake got loose.” My refined, reserved big sister let out a scream. We all stumbled over one another getting out of the car. Well – all but my big sister. She was glued to her seat but threw her feet up on the dashboard quicker than greased lightning.
We looked under the seats. We looked in cracks. We called, “Here snake.” That poor snake was scared to death and he buried himself where no hand could reach. There was no choice but for us to pile back into the car and continue our journey. I will have to admit that my feet were pulled up on my seat, too.
It was quiet on the trip to town. Well, I take that back. My sister complained all the way back. She released her arsenal of fiery darts at Cousin Benny as she muttered threats under her breath, casting backward glances as often as she could without getting a crick in her neck. Her feet never touched the floorboard. The snake didn’t show his little green head or any other part of him. We pulled into the driveway and big sis shot out of the car like a rocket, even before the car came to a complete stop. The search for the snake continued. With sis out of the way, he thought it was safe to emerge from his hiding place. He was released from his prison with a stack of kids and an angry teenager. He slithered away to find a peaceful refuge. And so ends my story of Snake in the Car!!!!