Third Times The Charm 7

"And the Lord said, 'Let there be opposition in all things, that man may know good from evil, right from wrong, sickness from health and joy from sorrow'. And Satan agreed with Him, so he invented the Mother-in-Law."

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"Sorry I can't give you anything stronger for pain, but I can't risk lowering your blood pressure."

I looked down at my hand, which had swollen and turned a rather ugly shade of blue. The blood oozing from the two tiny holes didn't look much better. Neither did the IV line running out of the inside of my elbow. "That's okay, doc. I know. I'll survive. Burns like hell, though."

"Yeah. Well, we stock polyvalent Gloydius anti-venin here. It's on the way up. I'll have Karen do the skin test and start the drip. Who got you, anyhow?"

That brought a smile to my lips, if only a grudging one. Only Doctor West knew our snakes well enough to recognize them by name. "Tenchi," I replied. "Ryouko is shedding."

"I didn't think Tenchi was aggressive. What happened?"

He was right, Tenchi wasn't aggressive. He was about as laid back as pit vipers get. A Japanese mamushi, still dangerous but not particularly excitable. Normally. However, there are some things that no snake will tolerate.

"One of the officers decided to take a picture, with flash. He went ballistic."

"Oh. Good grief." Even Doc West knew you didn't use bright lights around a snake. They don't have eyelids, and their eyes are sensitive. "How long do you think his fangs are?"

"About a quarter inch, not bad." I knew where he was going with this. The bite was above the wrist, on the forearm. There was enough muscle tissue there that the length of Tenchi's fangs wasn't a concern. The bite was into the muscle, but not deep.

"Okay. No deep tissue threat, then. Your tetanus profile current?"

That got a laugh from me. "Hell, Doc, you should know. You gave me one last month when that big bullsnake got me."

Danny just shook his head. "Glen, you're getting to be a regular customer around here. If you ever get tired of being a herpetologist, you could probably get a good job as a pin cushion."

"Hah hah," I grumped. "Very funny."

Putting down my chart and returning his pen to his pocket, the doctor gave me a grin. "Thought you might want a good laugh. You're probably gonna need it. Clint called. He's on the way over. Well, I've gotta see what else is going on around here. Karen should have the AV up here soon. Once she gets it started, we'll move you into a room. I'm going to put you into hemolysis protocol, so you'll be with us for two or three days. See you upstairs."

I waved, then lay back against the pillow. These damned hospital ER beds must have been designed by the Marquis de Sade, but there wasn't much to be done about it. Besides, it was probably more comfortable than my meeting with Clint was going to be.

For those who are wondering, I don't just play with venomous snakes. I'm Glen Morris, the Associate Curator of Reptiles for the Memphis Zoological Gardens (fancy name for the Memphis Zoo). One of my duties is to teach first responders, medical personnel and the military Snake Identification and Snake Bite Treatment. We try to bring a calm animal to all of the presentations, but accidents do happen. Tenchi was my fourth envenomated bite. It was starting to get tiresome.

As Doctor West said, I'm a herpetologist. Herpetology is a huge field, covering reptiles, amphibians and birds. Bird specialists aren't really considered herpetologists, they're ornithologists. Technically, birds are reptiles, but we treat them as distant relatives, even though they are part of the group. Same for amphibians.

Still, the field is huge. Most of us have at least a passing familiarity with all reptiles, but there are very few true generalists. Most of us belong to one of the four subspecialities.

Crocodilinologists, as the name implies, work with crocodiles, alligators, gavials, and caiman. Better them than me. Too big, too mean. This field contains the smallest group of herpetologists

Testrudinologists work with turtles, tortoises and terrapins. This is one of my brother's specialties. He's also an Arachnologist. Freakin' idiot. He does have some really pretty tarantulas, though. This is another small group of us.

The second largest field is Varanology. These folks specialize in lizards. Interesting critters. This would likely be considered my secondary field. And, no, I don't work with Komodo Dragons. Somebody else can play with them, thank you.

I have one pet lizard, a uromastyx, the world's last living dinosaurs. Beautiful animals, mine is almost electric blue in color. For those who remember Jurassic Park, uros are true 'veggisauruses'. Gentle and friendly, they are a legitimate pet. They're heavy bodied, and they max out at about two feet in length. Some very large individuals have topped three feet.

The largest field, the one to which I belong, is Serpentology. These are the snakes. I love these little critters. Endless variety of species, and no two snakes, even within a species, are alike. They all have their own personalities, kind of like cats. I specialize in rat snakes, but I also enjoy the rear-fanged species.

I got lucky after getting my master's degree. This job was available and I knew the Curator. They hired me immediately.

That would be Clint Walker, the Curator, and my boss. I knew he was gonna tear into me. He didn't like my habit of handling hot snakes with only Kevlar lined gloves on. I guess he had a point, but it wasn't going to stop me. Besides, if I was working with a really dangerous snake, say a mamba, I used a transparent carrier and the snake never came out.

My four bites were all flukes and they were all from fairly safe snakes. Tenchi's bite was probably the worst of the bunch. The others had been a moccasin, a pygmy rattler and a cascabel. On second thought, she would have been the worst. A big South American rattlesnake with neurotoxic venom, she put me into an ICU for two weeks. Yeah, that was a bad bite.

Karen showed up with the anti-venin a few minutes later. While she did the skin test, we talked about her recent vacation. She and her husband were SCUBA divers, so they went to the Bahamas and explored some of the small reefs there. Sounded like fun, but I'm not much of a swimmer.

The skin test was normal, so she started the small bag in the drip IV. Anti-venins are not injected. Too much risk of an allergic reaction. You can turn off an IV. Nothing you can do with an injection.

"Considering your weight," she told me, "we're going to start with four vials. That will take about four hours. Then we'll draw some blood and see if we need any more. Doesn't seem like there's any necrosis, so my guess is that will be enough."

I was getting really uncomfortable on this ER gurney. Even a hospital bed, a real bed in a room, was starting to sound good. "When do you think they'll move me into a room?"

She logged into the computer terminal next to the bed and started looking at something or other. "Looks like they've already assigned you a room. 434. As soon as Doctor West gives us the go ahead, you'll be moved. I'd say within the hour."

I gave her a thin smile. The day was starting to wear on me. Sleep sounded good. That wasn't going to happen anytime soon, but I was looking forward to it.

They were starting to move me toward the elevators when Clint arrived. He doesn't look much like a scientist, an image he cultivates intentionally. Shoulder length straggly blonde hair, a rather weak goatee, an unremarkable green scrub shirt, and jeans. He has to be about six-foot. I'm 5'11" and he's taller than me. Very thin and in his middle forties. He looks more like a hippie than a PhD in herpetology.

"Geez, Glen, you must have a really lousy apartment. You keep coming back here to sleep."

"Yeah," I countered, while the nurses snickered. "But the rent is a bitch, so I have to keep going back to my dump. What brings you here today?"

He looked at me and shook his head. "PCC (Poison Control Center) doesn't have anyone available today, so I get to do the follow up. Do I even need to ask?"

"Nope. Cell phone with a flash. He didn't like it."

"Yep, that'll do it. Did Germantown transport you?"

"No. I drove. Tenchi's locked up in the back of the truck. He's probably calmed down by now."

Clint nodded. He knew what I'd been doing, so he'd just dummy up a generic report with my initial medical results. He'd talk to Karen for whatever other information he thought he might need.

"Okay. I've got your room number, so I'll check up on you later. Gonna take the truck back to the zoo then come back for my car. Where are the keys?"

I pointed to the slacks laying across the chair at the side of the bed. "Right front pocket."

Clint took the keys from the pocket, then looked back at me. "You look a little tired, dude. Get some sleep if they'll let you. Doc West says you're going to be here for a couple of days." He waved and headed for the ER Department exit.

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It was a nice room; private, with a big bay window that looked out over the bluff and the Mississippi River beyond. They let me eat dinner before starting the second vial of anti-venin. Not sure which was more appetizing.

I had a television, but most modern TV programs are designed for people with IQs in negative digits. Didn't appeal to me. By the middle of the evening, I was thoroughly bored. I kept looking at the door, hoping against hope that a certain person would walk through it to visit. That wasn't going to happen, though. We hadn't parted on the best of terms.

My first semi-serious relationship, like most kids, was in high school. She was a freshman and I was a junior. We'd first met through our church. Her dad was the pastor and he liked me, so, when we started dating, he didn't mind.

When I graduated and began studying at Memphis State, we started to drift apart. We were still friends and dated occasionally but I suspected she had a new boyfriend at Millington High. Didn't surprise me.

She invited me to her 18th birthday party. Of course, I accepted. It was at that party that I met her new boyfriend, Jimmy. He was a nice enough kid and they made a cute couple, so I congratulated him and gave Vicky what amounted to a goodbye kiss.

Vick had invited her best friend, a girl named Linda whom I'd met briefly a couple of times. At this party, Linda had asked if she could bring a friend of hers along and Vicky had agreed. This friend was a smallish, slender blonde. I saw her sitting in the corner for the first hour or so of the party, then asked Vicky about it.

"Oh, that's Carla. She's Linda's friend. No one really knows her and she's the oldest person here."

That kind of annoyed me, so I asked, "Well, do you mind if I ask her to dance. She looks kind of lonely."

Vick smiled at me. "Of course not. Then I won't feel so bad about dancing with Jimmy. Go introduce yourself. I bet she'll like you."

Carla was happy to have someone to dance with, and we started talking immediately. Soon we were sitting in the corner together, laughing our heads off.

It was probably during our third or fourth dance that I heard Vicky say, "Oh, Lord,

Glen's got Carla."

I heard a snicker and then Linda's voice. "Uh uh. Carla's got Glen."

Not sure which way it actually was, but my guess would be that Linda was right. Either way, we hit it off beautifully. We started spending a lot of time together.

Carla and I dated throughout my time at Memphis State. During my junior year I proposed to her and she accepted. We thought we would wait until after I finished my schooling and then get married. When I moved to Murfreesboro to attend Middle Tennessee State for my Master's Degree, she moved to Jackson to get her teaching credentials.

After my two years at MTS, I moved back to Millington. Carla was already teaching at Millington Middle School. We immediately resumed dating, but something wasn't quite right. She seemed nervous most of the time, although she denied it.

There were a couple of times that I asked her out on Friday nights and she told me that she had other commitments with her family. That didn't sound terribly unusual. We still had personal lives and I had no doubt that she had family commitments. But it seemed to be happening too often. That's when I realized two bothersome things; first, the only times she had ever invited me to her home were occasions when her parents and two sisters were out of town. Second, these family commitments were showing a disturbing pattern, every second or third Friday.

I waited to see if the next conflict would hold to the pattern. It did. So, the following Friday, we went out together. The week after that, I asked her out on Thursday night. We had just sat down with cups of coffee and the menus when I asked if she would be available the next night. I had concert tickets. As I expected, she said no, she had family commitments.

I set my menu aside and pushed my coffee cup back. When I turned my eyes on her, she was looking down. She wouldn't look at me. That was when I dropped the bomb.

"What's his name?"

She looked up in shock. Her pretty green eyes looked dark with worry, and her lips were twitching.

"I'm not an idiot, Carla. I've caught the pattern. I've also noticed that you've never introduced me to your parents. They don't know you're engaged, do they?"

She looked down again and shook her head.

"Didn't think so. Now, once more, what is his name?"

Her voice was a frightened whisper. "Phil," she admitted.

I nodded, reaching for my coffee. After a long sip, I looked back at her. "Start talking, and it better be good."

She sighed, looking like she was holding back tears. I wasn't impressed.

"My mom picked him out for me about three years ago, while you were still at MSU. He was a medical student. He graduated from med school last year and started his residency at Methodist."

"So, you've been engaged for nearly three years, and you're still dating another guy."

"Yeah."

I folded my arms across my chest, biting at my lower lip to control the anger I felt forming. Getting loud or mean wasn't going to solve anything.

"Alright," I told her, "Here's what's going to happen. Tomorrow, you're going to tell him you're engaged and you're going to break it off. Saturday, we're going to meet back here at 7. You can either tell me that we're still engaged, or you can give your ring back to me. Speaking of which, why didn't your folks notice it? You take it off every time you got home?"

She nodded, not looking up.

I felt totally disgusted. I didn't know how to react and I didn't want to say something I would really regret. Standing up, I concluded, "I'll see you Saturday." Then I walked out.

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The moment I saw her on Saturday I knew we were finished. She was already crying. I ordered coffee and sat down.

"What happened?"

She hesitated, then started to explain. "When I got there, my mother was with him. The moment I sat down, he proposed to me."

I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "And you accepted."

"No!" she protested. "I never had a chance to say anything. My mother said 'Of course, she'll marry you' and he slid a ring on my finger!"

I shook my head, reaching for the coffee. After a long sip, I asked, "So, this is an arranged marriage, and you're going along with it." I looked at her hand. No ring. "Where's the ring? You don't have guts enough to show it to me just like you didn't have guts enough to show mine to your parents?"

She flinched at that, turning an embarrassed shade of red. "What can I do? She's my mother."

"How old are you, Carla?"

"Twenty-three," she offered.

"You're an adult, or at least you should be. Marriage is your choice, not your mother's."

"Glen, please," she pleaded, "I never had a chance!"

"Bullshit. You had three years' worth of chances. You just didn't have the courage to use them. Where's my ring?"

She reached into her purse, tears now running down her cheeks. I still wasn't impressed. She handed me the ring. "Glen, I love you."

"Yeah. You love me but you're going to marry another guy. " I looked at the ring and suddenly felt very nauseous. I placed it back onto the table. "Keep it. I don't want it."

Her eyes widened and she looked up at me. The tears started in earnest.

"Save it, Carla. Nobody wants to hear you cry, least of all me. Nobody here cares, including me."

"Glen, please don't do this to me," she pleaded.

"Do what to you? You're the one who said 'yes' to another man. I'm the one who should be crying." I had to admit that I didn't feel like crying. I felt more like vomiting. "You know, Carla, I've got a suggestion for you."

"What's that?"

"Don't marry Phil."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Marry your fucking mother." I stopped and took a deep breath. "Well, I guess I should congratulate you."

She looked up, not sure if she should thank me or not. It's probably a good thing that she hesitated. "What are you congratulating me for?"

"For destroying two lives. You did a good job of it."

"What do you mean?" she sobbed. "Who's lives did I destroy?"

"Yours and mine. Thank you. If you ever do grow up, don't bother to look me up." She was still crying as I walked out.

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Clint came back to visit the next day. He was grinning from ear to ear. That was very much out of character for him, so it immediately piqued my curiosity.

"What the hell are you so happy about?" I asked.

He sat down, still smiling. "We won the bid!" he announced.

I almost came out of the bed until the IV line caught me. "We got Sunny?"

"Yep. They're gonna transport him next month."

Sunny, better known as Sun King, was a yellow-phase king cobra currently residing in India. We had been in a bidding war with several other zoos for about four months now. As the price climbed, the smaller zoos dropped out of the competition. By last month, it was just us, Philadelphia, and Denver. Apparently, Clint's last bid had broken even those two.

"What did we have to pay for him?"

"Fifty-eight."

"Ouch," I groaned. Fifty-eight grand was a big, big chunk of our quarterly budget. "You sure he's worth that much?"

Clint chuckled. "An eighteen-foot yellow-phase? What do you think? He's gonna be one hell of a draw. We'll recoup the cost within a year."

"Yeah," I agreed, "but aren't the Board of Directors gonna climb all over us on this?"

"Who cares?" he replied. Clint didn't have much of an opinion of the Board, but this might be stretching things a bit. "We're still the biggest money-maker in this place, and it's gonna get a lot better with Sunny here. They don't wanna get into a pissing contest with us."

"Okay. We ready to start on the enclosure?"

He nodded. "Yeah. We're gonna use that old double-length corner unit. I've already talked to Jackson Glass, and they can start installing the high-end bullet-proof glass next week. Said the entire project will take them about three days."

"Damn, boss, this is gonna get expensive."

"Well, the Director told me to spend what we needed, just be sure it was big enough and that it was safe."

That got a chuckle from me. Yeah, you might say safety was a concern. King Cobras aren't aggressive as snakes go, but a big King loose in a reptile house full of screaming, panicking idiots would be a full-scale disaster. Cost was definitely a secondary consideration in this case. "We gonna put Nagaroina in with him?"

"Might as well," he shrugged. "If we can get them to mate, we can sell the hatchlings to other zoos and get even more back off the investment. Not likely, though. No one's had much luck getting cobras to mate in a zoo setting. Too bright, too busy."