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19 August 2019 Song 7: Snakes and Dragons – Segment 2

Every time a new player appears on the stage of a story, curiosity and speculation rise up, as is true in actual human relationships. In the case of the next part of this narrative, we have an unusual character, indeed. Just as we attempt to unravel new people in our lives, so are we tempted to predict the actions and temperaments of fictional characters. In a reciprocal manner, the actual speech and actions of a new person inform one of his/her actual profile. And so, it goes: back and forth; to and fro – the familiar patterns we may expect mirrored in reverse those components that do not fit the mold. The expected. The unexpected. The familiar. The strange. Comfort mixed with distress. The new character introduced in this segment provides material for all these conflicting aspects.


I turn slowly in the direction he
            stares, stunned, because watching near the hut skulks
                        a creature standing upright who may be
                                    human although it could just as well have
                                                sprung uncut from the earth – all hair and dirt –
                                                            or fallen from a tree – full-furred with teeth
The creature moves towards us.  Hart gasps again
and my own heart is pounding, but I want
                        to know who or what we’re about to meet
I’m thinking we are safe in the boat but
            I will have to pry the oars out of Hart’s
                        whitened grip, if the best course is retreat

The apparition strides slowly toward us
It raises a hand and calls out loudly,
            “Ho there! What’s your business?”  It’s a woman!
Hart still can’t or won’t speak and what is true
            sounds wrong.  I can’t say, a snake lead us here
“What’s your business!” She is more insistent
“We’re exploring,” peeps Hart, face all whitened
“Yeah, we’re just looking around,” I add but
            I’m not convinced, so how can she believe?
She’s at the land-end of the too-short dock
Her face mud-streaked, her gray-brown hair matted
Hefty breasts hanging halfway to her waist
                        inside her rough-hewn, brown shirt streaked with dirt, 
                                    and trousers hung from a thick leather belt. 
“Explorers, eh?” she cackles rocking back
on her booted heels, hands on wide, thick hips
“Two strong young people should be working hard
                        not lazing about in a boat like that.”
“Like what!?” I challenge in the boat’s defense
“Looks like a Sunday boat for parasols
            and ruffles – for a coxcomb and his girl.”
“She’s a fine ship!”  I frown at her.  Hart squeaks.
“Ship!? Har-de-har-har,” she throws her head back
            “Why that tub’ll sink under your first storm.”
“Want an apple?” chirps Hart moving past me
            with a large red apple held out to her

“Not me. What else do you have in that box?”
She shuffles alongside our boat and squats
                        on her thick haunches to inspect the chest
But Hart scampers back to the storage bin
            and sits on it saying, “Just food and clothes.”
The way he says it makes it sound like there’s
            gold and jewels and money stashed in the box
“And a sail,” I add in a haughty tone
            as much from pride as my wish to divert
“You don’t say,” she answers absently still
            craning her neck to assess our small stores
“So why are there snakes underneath your dock?”
            I probe in a bid to change her focus
“I guess they like the dead things under there,”
            she pushes her face close to mine.  Her smell
            wafts like the lifeless remains she conjures
“I just saw some fish parts,” I say, then see
            she’s taken this for a question about
            what more frightening corpses lie underneath?
“Well, I haven’t drowned any brats lately.”
            She leers at me then squints at Hart and cocks
                        her head like she’s sizing him for a kill.
                                    Hart’s small gulp tells her she has hit her mark
“Where do all the fish parts come from?” I play
            the wounded bird to distract this fat fox
“I put them there,” she says with sneering grin
“Why?” I bait, noticing a welling up
            in me of unreasonable confidence
                        like the flush I feel when what’s said is true.
I should be afraid like Hart, but in spite
                                    of present circumstances, I am not
“To trap nosey people who look under
            my dock!” She bares her teeth and wriggles her
            fingers at me as if planting a hex
“Catch many?” It’s Hart, somewhat recovered
            and slightly more in possession of voice
This puts her into a long laughing fit
            that jiggles her huge breasts pushing out her
                        two walnut nipples hanging in her shirt

“Let’s cut the crap,” she stammers between laughs
            “I don’t get much company.  It was hard
to resist teasing you a little bit.
She wipes her nose with her index finger
“How did you find my place way up this creek?”
Now it seems safe to tell the truth.  Even
            Hart is relaxing and finding his ground
“We followed a snake,” I say seriously
She evaluates my response as true
“That can get you into trouble they say.”
“That’s what I said,” Hart pipes up boldly now
“Well, not this time,” she comforts, “unless you
            call a hot meal ‘trouble’ where you’re both from.
                        I was just out picking greens for the soup
                                    We’ll pick some more and you two can join me.”
“We just ate before we got here,” Hart lies
            and I frown at his blatant squeamishness
“I’m hungry,” I say breaking ranks with Hart
“Your friend can wash the dishes.  Come ashore!”
            She stands and turns, beckoning with a wave
                        Hart rolls his eyes at me. I return him
                                    my best cocky smile as we leave our boat

She turns and sees Hart’s limp.  Her eyebrows rise
            but she looks away and says not a thing
Hart breathes, “She hasn’t drowned anybody
            but she did not deny eating someone.”
She stops dead in her tracks and even though
            she is out of earshot, she turns and says
                        “I only eat the ones who are afraid.”
I want to quip, “Is that why you’re so fat?”
            but I think better of it and keep quiet
We follow past the brownish broken shack
            where dozens of fish are cooking slowly
                        tied to long racks, suspended in light smoke
Beyond this, a narrow trail breaks the woods
Hart and I halt side by side as she turns
            and heads down the path overhung with vines
“Come on,” she says roughly. “We’re getting greens.
            I promise not to throw you in the pot.”

“I’ll stay here,” Hart volunteers.  “Just in case.”
“Suit yourself,” I reply and take the path
            I catch up to the woman and explain,
            “My friend’s a little edgy.  He doesn’t
                        travel much or meet new people often.”
“He wouldn’t be the first one I made edgy.
What town did you say you both come from then?”
“A place upriver I’d rather forget.”
“Bad things happen?” she asks over her shoulder
“Yes, some, but mostly nothing happened much.”
“So, you two are off to see the world then?”
“Well, it would be stretching to say ‘the world’
            at least in the boat – ‘er ship – we have now”
“You’ll be surprised how far that boat will go.”
“You changed your mind about it then?” I probe

She stops and turns to face me.  “Call it my
            little test to see what you have in here.”
                        She thumps my chest quite hard over my heart
                                    then continues to trudge into the woods
“What did you find out?” I ask jauntily
Without stopping, she answers, “Your friend there
            stands as true as they come, but you, well now,
                        you are a different kettle of catfish.”
“Catfish? Is that the kind you were smoking?”
            I change to a subject I like better
                        and she favors me by taking my tack
“Good guess.  They’re the real source of the ‘dead things’,”
            She wriggles her fingers above her head
                        like a ghoul clawing up from underground

“Ah! Here we are.” She heads off into wild
            brushy woods and I scramble to keep up
Off the path the light dims quickly.  I start
            to think I’ve been foolish while Hart is smart
On the trail I could outrun her but here
            I could trip, fall, and if she sat on me
                        I’d be trapped while she pulled her knife and slashed
                                    me stone dead – out of nowhere I dream up
                                                Jani’s three-inch knife – this makes me panic
She whirls to face me.  “Dig here,” she orders
            pointing to a leafy patch of moist ground
My eyes grow wide as I picture digging
            my own grave for her to stow my body
She sees my fear and grabs my shoulder hard
            “Pods and tubers – that’s all we’re after here,”
            She shakes her head, sighs, lets me go, kneels down
                        digging crudely around the tender plants
I squat down to watch and learn – some relieved
She takes the biggest plants out of the ground
she proves more limber than I would have guessed
                        where I must concentrate to do the work
           
“How can you be sure these aren’t poisonous?”
“When you’ve lived in the woods alone like I
            have, believe me, you learn poison from good.”
“That’s something I would like to learn,” I say
“Well, this is a patch of wild leeks.  The small
            ones’ leaves are good for soup.  You can pick those,”
 she says showing me how with quick, deft moves
            “These older bulbs will add chunks to the soup.
            As for poison, not much danger here but
                        watch out for the look-alike Death Camass
                                    that look like leeks or onions but do not
                                                have their onion smell. They will kill you sure.”
“That seems easy,” I say picking the greens
“Don’t be fooled by your first lesson,” she warns
“Take storksbill for instance – looks like parsley –
                        also looks like poison hemlock – only
                                    pick storksbill in early spring when you’re sure.”
“Oh, I see.” I say, my brashness mellowed


Background:
In youth, most of us encounter people who raise our hackles, either in fright or aggression. When a stranger engages us, we experience what psychology calls approach- avoidance behavior. Part of us is curious and wants to know more. Another part brings up fears and intuitions that this is not going to be a pleasant relationship. Of course, in reality, extremely few “strangers” are totally one or the other. Sometimes, a friend accompanies us along the exploration of the new character. If so, that friend likely offers opinions and advice, also based on his/her curiosity and fears. Of course, that’s the case in the above segment, and the dramatic tension rises in segment three next week.

Exploration 1: Do you trust the woman from the hut? What in particular makes you say “yes” or “no”? Can the main character learn from her? If so, about what? Do you think she could be “the one”?

Exploration 2: What is happening between the main character and Hart? For example, where and how do they differ at this point? With whom do you identify more?

Exploration 3: Before and beyond this point in the narrative, there be dragons. Can you identify any at this point? There have been three, and many more to come.

NEXT: “Snakes and Dragons” Segment 3

You can read the full texts of Songs 1-5 by clicking here.











Comments

  1. I love the old hag. How thrillingly spooky! Is she the bad guy? The good guy? A little bit of both? Love it!

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    Replies
    1. And so interesting how Hart's confidence has deflated once faced with a real adventure.

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    2. Kim, as always, I appreciate hearing your reactions, esp. now that the narrative is picking up steam. You are the fiction expert, and I bow to your opinions. You may not like the "old hag" as things progress. (Spoiler alert.) And yes, I personally agree with your take on Hart; however, he is the safety valve in this venture. Wait a bit and see what you think. JP Savage

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  2. The old hag and the snake are one, n’est-ce pas? Transmigration day. She is not to be trusted. The MC (main character is Eve. Adam is back by the boat, “I don’t like apples, but anything to keep Honey happy). MC will learn much to his/her regret. If the hag is the One, I’m going home.
    I can identify with both Hart and MC, with bias toward MC while looking back to Hart on my DEW line.
    Three dragons! The teacher, Jani, and the old hag is my guess.

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    Replies
    1. Hmmm . . . you are all questions on this installment, eh? But wait. First, I have to apologize for responding to your comment so late - frankly, somehow it never appeared in my email. Guess I need to check spam more often.

      Back to the our story . . . Re: the hag and the snake -- the snake is her minion and one of the dragons. Think of the dragons (to be 9 in total) as far more reptilian than human). The other two dragons are the blue dragonfly in an early Song, and the snapping turtle with its lessons in natural laws. Back to the hag/snake, your mistrust is well-placed; however, minions only do what they are told, while their masters always have an agenda.

      The hag is MOST DEFINITELY NOT the One. Sheesh!

      Re: identification with both MC and Hart, thanks. My intention so far has been to present in gray vs. black and white.

      As always, you have my gratitude for reading and commenting. CS

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