Monsters With a License

She wasn’t expecting to see a snake out here, and so—at first—she didn’t. At first she saw an old sweater someone had abandoned when his walk in greenbelt behind their neighborhood made him too hot. Then the sweater raised its head and stuck its tongue out at her, and Cheri barely managed to suppress a scream.

Cheri didn’t know much about snakes, but she knew enough to be sure this wasn’t a local specimen. It may have escaped from a zoo. More likely, it was an exotic pet escaped from one of the homes along here. She’d walked a long way from her house, so she didn’t know anyone who lived in this part of the neighborhood. She scanned the backs of the houses she could see, wondering which of them had harbored this monster, wondering whether there were others around as well. Probably. The kind of person who’d choose this creature over a dog wouldn’t be satisfied with just one.

She’d just made a careful note of her exact location—the better to give details to Animal Control—and was backing slowly away when she heard someone say, “Don’t worry. He’s friendly.”

Cheri turned around. A boy with grass-stained jeans crouched in the bushes nearby. “Is this thing yours?” She tried to sound neutral but her voice came out more like that of a nun confronting a teenager with a pack of condoms.

“His name’s Herbert. He’s trained; he won’t bite.” As if to prove it, the boy crossed to the snake, picked it up and draped it over his shoulders.

“Are you crazy?” Cheri screeched.

The snake flicked its tongue out to brush the boy’s cheek. He grinned. “Herbert’s my pet. He’s got a cage in my room, but I like to bring him out here to stretch out sometimes. It makes him happy.” Then, incredibly, he turned his head to face the snake and continued in a baby voice. “Doesn’t it make you happy, Herbie?” he said, and planted a kiss on the snake’s head.

Cheri backed away from them. “That thing is not a pet. I’m calling Animal Control.”

The boy just laughed. “My dad got a license,” he said. He and the snake turned and walked up the hill toward the houses.

Cheri watched him go. At first she thought she would see which house he went into—she might call Animal Control anyway—but then she decided she really didn’t want to know. She turned and hurried back toward her end of the greenbelt.

She knew one thing for sure. From now on, she was taking her walks in the other direction.