“So that’s it? You’re really choosing to side with a fucking snake over me,” she yelled as I walked to get between her and the vivarium.
Geronimo never liked loud noises, and I could see her tantrum was having an effect on him as he began to retreat into his usual nook. It fascinated me how he was able to slither his way into the hollow rock decoration that sat in the corner of his enclosure; I liked to imagine that, like Mary Poppins’s purse, it’s much more spacious on the inside than it first appears. I was really glad I got him those decorations from the jungle set, it made his glass house feel a lot more like a chunk of nature. I’m sure he appreciated the home-like feel.
“Oh my god, are you even listening to me?” She continued.
“He’s not just a snake. He’s a python, and he’s my pet.”
“Well I sure wish you’d treat him like one, because with the way you favor him over me it’s like he’s the one you’re in a committed relationship with.”
“I don’t see what the issue is, you know he needs to go for a short walk twice a week. It’s what we’ve always done.”
“Who. The fuck. Takes their pet python for a WALK at ten p.m. Do you realize how insane you sound? It’s important to me that you realize that,” she was practically blowing smoke out of her ears at this point, and her face had become flushed and red.
“Taking care of another living thing is a responsibility, I can’t just neglect him.”
“So is a relationship. It’s a mutual responsibility to one another. I haven’t seen you in weeks, plural! I get that work keeps you busy, but the fact that you can’t even spend some of your free time with me? I’m not even asking you to devote every single second of the day to me. It’s the bare minimum.”
A silence followed, it would’ve been total if it wasn’t for the low humming from the UV light fixtures in Geronimo’s vivarium. It reminded me that one of the bulbs needed changing.
“Thanks. That’s all I needed to know. You go for your walk, try to find some self-awareness and, if you ever gave a shit, give me a call if you think this can be saved. Otherwise I don’t want to see your number come up on my screen,” and with that she flung her bag on her shoulder and walked out into the night, making sure to slam the door as loud as she possibly could. Whole building probably heard it.
I took my time clearing up the dinner table, the epicenter of tonight’s show. I wasn’t in a rush to take him out for a walk. If I wait longer the streets will be completely desolate, which means we won’t be spotted by anyone. It’s not illegal to own a python since they’re non-venomous, but I don’t want some ‘concerned citizen’ reporting me for taking it out for a walk in the middle of the night and risk him being taken away from me.
She didn’t understand the nature of our relationship. Sure, sometimes I gave him more time than one normally should or would, but he was like family to me. And what she sees as a strange obsession, is far healthier than any other habits or addictions I could indulge in, and used to! I remember trying my first cigarette with my older brother while sitting out on the porch of our parent’s house one night when they were fighting. The dry summer air felt almost heavy on our shoulders and we had to keep swatting mosquitoes off our legs, but it still beat being inside and listening to them yell.
It took me a while to get the hang of smoking, I kept choking on it and couldn’t really find the appeal of it at first. I still don’t remember when the shift happened and I began to enjoy them occasionally and, soon enough, I was having half a pack almost daily. It ruined me. My first girlfriend broke up with me because she couldn’t stand the way I smelled and was afraid I’d die of lung cancer or something. But it gave me a reason to constantly go outside and avoid my parents, especially after my older brother moved out.
The whole smoking stunt went away after a while but it left a void that had to be filled, and that’s when drinking came in. Then, after drinking, I switched to weed for a bit and, more recently, my vape pen replaced that one. Regardless of what it was, they all made me antisocial. I was always angry and pushed people away. I dropped it as soon as Geronimo came into my life though. I care for him too much to continue doing any of those things and, with him around, I don’t need them anymore to feel better. Doing whatever I can to make sure he’s comfortable isn’t an obsession, it’s called taking care of him.
Snakes might not be capable of feeling love and other emotions in the same way that other pets do, but they do show trust and can be very gentle creatures. They’re simply heavily misunderstood due to media and other wrongful portrayals, but they can really be kind and beautiful companions. That’s what she always failed to see.
This was just another excuse for us to fight anyway, and I’m pretty sure she had been looking for an out for a while now. Geronimo just happened to be the closest thing in the vicinity that she could get angry about without thinking too much about it. She never liked him in the first place. The day she came over for the first time, she almost walked out just because I had his vivarium in the bedroom with me. She was the reason why he was moved to the living room to begin with, but now that wasn’t good enough either. She always said something about her friends thinking he was weird and gross. She never told me their exact words but you don’t have to be a genius to take a wild guess, thankfully we were used to it so I didn’t care, but it always bothered her.
Once I was done in the kitchen, I grabbed his tiny velcro vest and leash and put them on him. I had them custom made by this girl on Etsy, she was nice enough to surprise me and add a cute little pattern of some ladders on them. I got the joke immediately and now I show them off to whoever comes around. They’re mainly a bright, deep red color which contrasts nicely with his moss green and brown skin, and also keeps him from getting lost when we make it to the park. He never minded me touching him and getting up close and he was used to the routine by now.
It didn’t take long for us to get there. Usually, I have to take a longer detour because there’s people walking around but, since I waited longer today, the streets were practically dead all the way there except for some kids using their skateboards. They were too focused on talking about being up past their bedtime that they barely paid us any mind.
I loved going to the park because it allowed me to watch Geronimo as if he was in his natural habitat. On the days we walk, I delay dinner time until we’re out so that I can give him a little taste of his life out in nature. I bring with me a box of one or two mice with their hind legs taped together to make sure they don’t go far, and let him hunt for them amidst the grass. It was fascinating to watch him work.
I let him loose near a tree while I began to set up the mice. I really wanted to get a picture of him curled up on a branch so I tried to put one of the mice up there to see if he would follow it up. It took me a while to get it set up, so much so that I began to hear him slither and lunge at what I thought was the first mouse I let loose on the ground. That was until I started to hear the cries for help.
I quickly turned around and, in the darkness, I could make out one of the kids from earlier. His skateboard had rolled over to me and he was pleading for help while Geronimo remained with his fangs buried around the kid’s throat. I had been so focused on the tree that I didn’t even hear him coming up towards us and now his wailing was echoing throughout the park. That was, of course, until he wrapped his entire body around the boy like a rope and began to squeeze. I could practically see the air shoot out of his lungs while his voice fizzled out into a wheezy whisper and his bones crunched, causing me to jolt backwards. Geronimo looked like a demon taken straight out of ancient legends. I knew he could, but I had never seen his jaw expand in such a way and, with the kid now dead, it was time for him to feast.
It was excruciating to watch. I was stupefied into a hypnosis-like state that I didn’t even notice my whole body was shivering uncontrollably. I don’t understand how it happened, I only took my gaze away for merely a second. I didn’t know what to do, I had to act fast but my muscles still wouldn’t move. While some of it was definitely the shock, I knew deep inside that I wasn’t taking a step to help the poor kid because I simply didn’t want to. I knew that choosing to save the boy’s corpse meant having to take Geronimo’s life, and I just couldn’t bring myself to do that.
The whole ordeal took about forty five minutes to be done. I stopped looking soon after it started, when his whole face had been swallowed up. After that, all I could hear was the squelching noises he made with his mouth as he moved on forward and down. I eventually sat down on the ground and decided to wait it out there on the grass, keeping a look out while I tried my best to dissociate from it all. This was not how I raised him.
There wasn’t much I could do now but think of Geronimo. He was just doing what his instincts taught him to do, it was a python being a python. He wasn’t to blame. I was. And I had to make sure this couldn’t be traced back to him.
I smacked myself out of my stupor and got into action. The clothes the kid was wearing would all be indigestible, so I’d have to find a way to make him get sick, but that would come later down the line. Right now, he was very bloated. A prey of that size would take him at least a month to digest, so I had to find a way to get him back home, and quickly.
In hindsight, I could’ve, and probably should’ve, called anyone else first. I could’ve called one of my friends from the snake owners group, my best friend, or, hell, even my parents would’ve been a good shout. But, right now, I needed her.
“That was quick,” she said, her tone chilling through the phone. He could practically see the annoyance on her face.
“I need help,” I muttered. I didn’t know how to bring it up. I wasn’t expecting her to react well, but a part of me still hoped that she would be willing to come and help me out.
“I’m glad you realize that. I know someone that we can both talk to together. It’ll be a good first step in resolvi–”
“He ate a kid,” I spat out, interrupting her and ripping off the band-aid. I could hear her breathing on the other side, she was putting two and two together as to what I meant by that. When she finally realized, she hung up without saying a word. After that she must’ve blocked my number because my calls refused to go through.
I sat back down on the ground and looked up at the stars while allowing the fact that she was probably out of my life for good simmer for a bit. The park extended around me in every direction and it only seemed to be getting bigger, darkness swallowing everything around me like a vignette. I turned to look at Geronimo, his body immovable as he was beginning to digest his late night snack.
In the end, I managed to get a hold of my friend Patrick. He owns two small alligators that live in his backyard and is no stranger to dealing with one of them eating a neighbor’s pet or two. I wasn’t entirely truthful about what happened. Thankfully you couldn’t make out any concrete shapes out of his inflated stomach, and I was able to pass it off as a really big dog.
We ended up putting him in the back of his pick up truck using a ramp and a makeshift pulley system he had built himself for whenever he needed to take his alligators to the local sanctuary for a check up.
On the drive home I couldn’t help but keep checking on him in the rearview mirror. I could barely make out his shape in the void of the night but, every time we drove under a light post, I could see his beady eyes staring back at me. His gaze was fixed on mine, almost as if with intention and it bred in me a feeling I had never experienced with him. I felt fear sliding its way down my spine. It made me recoil and shudder as I carefully turned back around and fixed my gaze on the dark road ahead.
Andrés Murillo is a Dublin-based writer and illustrator from Costa Rica working with writing, painting, digital art, and photography. He’s an English Studies graduate from Trinity College Dublin. He uses color and symbolic elements to create vibrant scenes that, above all, tell a story, while often exploring themes of identity and belonging. His comic strip “The Little Joys” is his most recent work that will be featured in an anthology by Faerie Press. You can find some of his work on @nihilobo on Instagram!
