Serpent King
By Jeff Zentner

he worked in the orchard as he had every day since his youth
his every day spent with the sun beating upon his brow and back
and it gave him warmth and gave life to his orchard and it bore fruit

and his daughter played and danced among the pines and the dogwoods and the rhododendrons that grew in the hills that surrounded their home

and he tilled and pruned the trees of his field and saw
that they flowered and gave fruit and life and he was proud of the work of his hands
and of his daughter the love of his life
light made flesh

and as he labored he heard his daughter cry out
and he ran until he reached her side
when he found her she was grievously hurt for she had been bit by a dreadful and poison snake
and he held her in his arms for he knew there was nothing that he could do to save her
and so he spoke quietly to her and she to him
and he told her that he loved her
and she told him that she loved him
and he told her that he wished she would not die
and she told him that it was not her will to die but die she must
and he told her that he was afraid to be alone
and she told him that she was afraid to be alone
and she asked him if he would not promise to find and kill that serpent which brought her to grief
and he promised that he would
and she died

and he placed her in the dirt with his hands
and covered her with dirt
and with his hands he buried her with dirt
and he wept for a time
and then for a time he was silent
and he did not wash the dirt from his hands but he rubbed it on his face and on his lips
and he tasted it on his tongue and it tasted like sorrow
and memory haunted his dreams
and the sun gave him no warmth
and he was alone

and on the morrow he arose as was his custom before the sun
but he did not set himself to labor in his orchard but instead he took up the axe that he used to hew down trees that had died and set himself to find the snake that killed his daughter
and that day he did not work at all in his orchard but he killed serpents where he could find them
and the next day he did the same
and he knew that he could not know if he had slain the serpent that brought his daughter
to grief
but he cared little for that
and he slew even serpents that were not of the race that killed his daughter
but he cared little for that

he took from them their skins and nailed them to the wall of his barn
which once held fruit and life but now held only death and the fruit thereof

and he wore upon his clothing too the skins of the serpents he slew
and he made from their fangs and from their bones a profane crown and wore it upon his brow

and he cared little for his orchard and he ceased to till and prune and water and
make trees and fruit and life grow for he cared only for death and the promise that he had made

and his orchard became brown and dry
and his heart became brown and dry like his orchard

and within him there was a fire that burned with great heat but it gave no light
and in his eyes there was a fire that burned but not with light

and sometimes he would go to town to trade for food and to sell
what small and bitter fruits his orchard still birthed in the shadow of his neglect
and the people of the town called him SERPENT KING
and cars slowed to stare
and the people of the town crossed to the other side of the street when he approached
for he stunk
of death

and the nights he spent under the stars for a long while
and sometimes he would go to the place where he laid his daughter in the dirt
and he would tell her of his days
and he would tell her of his promise to her fulfilled
and he would sleep and serpents haunted his dreams
until they fought his mind for the very memory of his daughter
and he longed to remember

and the days grew shorter as summer faded into autumn and autumn into
winter

and one morning he awoke and frost covered the ground
and he knew that the fire that consumed him within had died
and he knew that the serpents would sleep for the winter
and he knew he had fulfilled the measure of his promise

and he removed from his clothing the skins of serpents
and he removed from his brow his awful crown
and he laid them on the ground

and he washed himself
and he dressed himself in his finest clothes
and he laid himself on the dirt where his daughter slept
and the sun beat down on his back
as it always had
and he could remember again
and serpents haunted his mind no more
and the memory of love filled him again
and there he lay
and there he died

 

 

Back To Writings