What A Scream
This was a few years ago. I took the family to Ginnie Springs, a beautiful Florida water spot, for a day of swimming and a little picnic. So as I was swimming in the crystal clear water, watching my son floundering around in his water wings and just having a good ol time, my son suddenly stopped, pointed at the water and said, “Look daddy, a lizard!” I looked over and my jaw dropped.
I saw that no, it was NOT a lizard that was swimming over to us, it was a snake. After a quick examination, I realized that this was a Water Moccasin, and a large one at that, heading right for us. So yelling for my son to back away, I waded out to grab him and dragged him back to shore. The snake was making a beeline for us, which is weird because most of the time they avoid human contact.
I started to splash water at it, trying to slow it down enough so I could reach the shore before it got too close. So as I was backing up, slapping water at a poisonous snake with one hand and dragging a laughing child (who had no idea what was going on) with the other, I reached close enough to the shoreline to grab a branch that had fallen from a tree.
It was long and pretty sturdy. It was perfect for what needed to be done. As the snake got in close, I went all caveman on it and bashed it a dozen times with the branch. It worked. The snake started to float away. I then realized that all the people swimming around in this water would not take too kindly to bumping into a four-foot Moccasin corpse.
So using the branch, I launched the snake into a stretch of woods off to my right. Well, I guess the snake was not balanced right on the branch, and I was full of adrenaline, so instead of the woods, the snake flew high into the air, drifting off to the right where PLOP. It landed square on a picnic table. To make matters worse, it landed on a pile of shoes that a girl scout troop had left when they went wading in the water.
“Oh God!” was all I could think, as I began to quickly swim across the spring to remove the snake from the table. But as I was swimming, I heard them…the giggles and laughter of little 12-year-old girls returning to get their shoes. I stopped cold. I was too late. I began to swim away, trying to hide myself as I saw the first curly-haired head approach the table.
There was laughing, there was chatting and talking…then there was a pause. And that is when the screaming started. If you have never heard a dozen 12-year-old girls scream in horror as they saw a large, bloody snake draped across their shoes, I cannot even begin to explain the sound. Even as I dove underwater, I heard the screaming. Sometimes…at night…I still hear the screams.