Snake Charmer

He hunted snakes, raided nests of snake babies, tied strings to their tails, took them to school. Tucked inside his desk, baby snakes escaped, slithered down, made their way across the schoolhouse floor and down through a hole in the floor. At recess, my brother could be found, crawling under the schoolhouse, hunting for his snakes. Crazy brother, playing with snakes, chasing us girls to hear us scream, hiding snakes in hollow stumps, securing their prison with a board, weighted down with a rock. Many years later, ironing his shirt in our basement family room, a yell, “It’s a snake!” He’s taking the stairs, in doubles, to put distance between himself and the snake, who had crawled in through the fireplace vent. It was a harmless garden snake. We had the last laugh.