Mama came flying out with my sisters right behind her.
Papa was out by the barn harnessing his team. Mama yelled something to him about a snake.
He dropped the harness, jumped over the rail fence, and in a long lope started for me.
Mama reached me first. She grabbed me and shouted, “Where did it bite you?”
“Bite me?” I said. “Why Mama, I’m not bit. I’ve got him, Mama. I’ve got him.”
“Got what?” Mama asked. “A big coon,” I said. “The biggest one in the river bottoms. He’s this big, Mama.”
I made a circle with my arms as big as a twenty-gallon keg.
Mama just groaned way down deep and covered her face with her hands.
Some big tears squeezed out between her fingers. Almost in a whisper, I heard her say, “Thank God; I thought you were snake-bitten.”
My sisters, seeing Mama crying, puckered up and started bawling.
“He needs a whipping,” the oldest one said, “that’s what he needs, scaring Mama that way.”
Something busted loose inside me and I cried a little, too.
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