Wasp Season

by Jennifer Scoullar

  Meanwhile, back at the birth nest, the swarm exits were swiftly sealed and life returned to normal. The senses of touch, taste and smell were vitally important to the blind termites. Sensory pores and hairs distributed all over their body served as organs of touch, as did their antennae. They quickly detected the vibration of Ted’s chainsaw. Termite soldiers began to strike their heads against the roof and floor of their tunnels to communicate the alarm. The termites were also particularly sensitive to moisture levels within the nest. It was critical to the well being of such thin skinned creatures, that humidity was maintained almost at saturation point. As the heat and noise increased, the insects retreated, carrying their eggs to deeper, cooler nest chambers far below the ground. Here they sheltered, effectively insulated by earth, until rain finally moistened the upper chambers. Only then did they venture upwards and their lives return to dark normality.

  CHAPTER 12

  It was Christmas morning. Never before had Beth taken such intense pleasure in the delight of her children. The prospect of the looming custody dispute imbued each happy exclamation and glad smile with particular poignancy. Things she so often took for granted, now took on a unique significance. The final check of preparations on Christmas Eve; the shining anticipation in her children’s eyes; the enthusiastic hugs and kisses that followed the opening of each new present. Beth tried hard to hold onto and savour every precious moment. The future stretched before her and she appreciated, perhaps for the first time, the brevity of childhood. Tears stung her eyes and she did not know if they were tears of pleasure or of pain.

  Sarah glanced at her mother and noticed the glistening tear-drop on her cheek. A cloud of concern passed over the girl’s face. Beth wiped her eyes and smiled at her daughter, whose worried look evaporated as she rushed triumphantly over to her mother, swinging a bridle in her hand.

  “It’s beautiful, Mum! The brow band is royal blue to match my new saddle cloth.”

  Not to be outdone, Rick produced a toy laser gun and began to shoot his sister. Extricating herself from the excited pair, Beth collected up the torn wrapping paper, planning her day as she went.

  Mark and Helen were coming for lunch. Although this was a daunting prospect for Beth, Rick and Sarah were thrilled. What children would not enjoy having their parents together at Christmas? But their delight was merely a desirable side effect. The main purpose of today was for Beth to convince Helen that the children needed to stay where they were. She planned to appeal to Helen’s maternal instinct with every ounce of persuasive power that she possessed. With some practical considerations thrown in, such as the additional expense and lack of privacy that custody would necessarily entail, she felt confident that she could recruit Helen as an effective ally against Mark. She realised it would not be easy. Her attitude to Helen up to this point had been dismissive, even a little cold. Well what could one expect? Although Helen was not entirely responsible for the demise of Beth’s marriage, she had willingly given it a decent kick down-hill. Beth composed herself, eager to avoid negative thoughts. To befriend Helen she required a singular and positive attitude. It was vital that today should run smoothly.

  Beth busied herself in the kitchen. Soon the house was filled with the tantalising aroma of roasting turkey and steaming pudding. Unfortunately the weather bureau forecast a warm day. By eleven o’clock the cooking was well under control. Beth required a break. She called Sarah and they went down to the stables to give the horses some carrots and apples as a Christmas treat. Walking back, they’d almost reached the front porch when Beth heard a rustle in the bushes and saw a swift flash of dark, toffee coloured scales. She put a cautionary hand on her daughter’s arm.

  A two metre Eastern Brown snake emerged from the garden and made a beeline for their fluffy white cat, Spooky, who was sunning himself on the doorstep. The foolish cat gazed curiously at the approaching predator. Swift action was required. Beth picked up an empty plastic plant pot and with a deft toss landed it close enough to Spooky to startle him into retreat. However the snake was not of such a timid disposition. It proceeded to coil the full length of its flawless, muscle-bound body in concentric rings upon the porch.

  Beth always believed snakes to be immensely shy creatures. This belief had been born out in the past, as she had never actually seen one before on her property. The presence of this snake proved that they did in fact inhabit the hidden places in her garden and, up until now, had done a remarkable job of remaining concealed. This reptile was apparently the exception that proved the rule. Beth and the snake each regarded the other from a safe distance. They appeared to have reached an impasse. The lull afforded Beth an excellent opportunity to observe the snake. Her head was small, barely distinct from her powerful, sinuous body. Her orange flecked belly was coloured a rich creamy yellow with her skin textured like expensive silk. She was without a doubt, quite magnificent. Beth found herself using the feminine pronoun in her thoughts. There was something distinctly elegant and lady-like about the creature. But it was her eyes – tiny, twin, unblinking, golden globes – that mesmerised Beth. She recalled tales of the serpent’s spellbinding stare. Intellectually, she knew this was because the snake could not blink. A transparent scale protected the fixed eyelid. Yet she had never seen such a hypnotic gaze in pet snakes. By contrast, their eyes held a dull glaze, displaying nothing of this wild creature’s magnetic fire. This might explain why Spooky had remained motionless on the porch. He was captive in the reptile’s stare. Beth felt a little paralysed herself. The bold snake continued to show no inclination to move. Beth picked up another plant pot and threw it at her, hoping to frighten her away. The well-aimed throw only served to send her flowing into the little garden plot adjacent to the front door, her forked tongue darting all the while between thin lips. The snake disappeared from view in a tangle of small ferns and blue cornflowers. Beth now found herself in another quandary. She was unable to leave her position unattended, for fear the creature would slip away unnoticed, perhaps to a surprise location equally close to the house. At least she knew where it was at the moment.

  Sarah, who had remained very quiet all this time, now looked expectantly at her mother.

  “We can’t leave it at the front door, Mum. What about when Dad comes?” Sarah was right of course.

  “Go quietly around the back and get your brother.”

  Sarah quickly returned with an excited Rick in tow. Beth instructed the two children to collect rakes and cricket bats from the shed. So armed, they stood guard on either side of the little garden. Beth retreated inside with the pets to make some frantic yet fruitless phone calls to neighbours. Nobody was home. The council’s Ranger number rang out as well. Fighting a rising feeling of panic, Beth rang several friends farther afield, but found nobody able to help. It was, after all, Christmas day.

  Beth felt increasingly horrified by the well meaning advice she received.

  “I’m sorry I can’t help today. Why don’t you use a Whipper-Snipper. That’ll fix it,” and “I’m sorry. We’ve got the family over. But I hear a motor-mower chops them up pretty good,” and

  “I’m sorry. I’m due at my parents for lunch. But I wish I was there with my shotgun!” and “Take an axe, break its back and then while it lies helpless, decapitate it.”

  Beth couldn’t believe what she was hearing. It was now well after eleven o’clock. Mark was due at one. She gave up and went outside to find the children bravely holding their positions. She considered her options. Clearly the snake could not remain where it was. It had to go.

  Beth looked at a garden spade leaning against the wall of the house. She reluctantly considered the awful possibility that she might have to kill the snake. Sarah followed her mother’s gaze and her eyes widened in shock.

  “You can’t kill it, Mum. It’s Christmas!” Once more Beth pictured the snake’s proud, bright eyes. With a sinking feeling, she realised there was only one thing she could do. She must catch it unharmed. Beth had seen people do it on television.” If th
ey can do it, so can I,” she thought reasonably, and tried to recall the technique; take one snake. Immobilise it by safely grasping it directly behind the head. Drop it into a handy, canvas, drawstring bag. Take it to a wildlife park where the snake will be milked for the production of anti venene, exhibited for the education of the public or released back into the wild.

  Satisfied, she explained her plan to the children.

  “Cool!” said Rick. “Can I keep it?”

  Beth shook her head. Sarah looked unconvinced.

  “First, catch your snake,” stated Beth firmly.

  Back in the house, Beth put on thick trousers, a jumper, gumboots and impervious (she hoped) leather gloves, before venturing intrepidly back into the garden. She was accompanied by helpful remarks from Rick who was armed with a book full of facts about Australian reptiles.

  “Did you know that snake’s are incredibly swift and can rear up as high as your waist to deliver a fatal bite?” her son told her.

  “It says here that nearly all Australian snakes are highly venomous,” and

  “I thought I saw the snake near your leg just before. I forgot to tell you,” and

  “If the snake doesn’t get you, I think that spider might.”

  “Be quiet, Rick. You’re not helping,” said Beth.

  She didn’t need Rick to tell her that the Eastern Brown was a highly venomous snake. Equipped with an old axe handle, she methodically prodded the ground in an effort to locate her quarry. After many nervous minutes she spotted the tell-tale gleam of its amber scales. Pushing aside the thick foliage, she discovered her snake frantically weaving her head to and fro in a vain attempt to escape through the narrow slats of a ventilator grill embedded in the brickwork. The poor creature was clearly in a state of utmost panic. Yet even with the very real threat of Beth looming large, its every instinct was still to flee. It was not until she pressed the axe handle firmly into the nape of the snake’s neck, and then grasped the reptile tight between thumb and forefinger, that it attacked.

  Craning its neck at an impossible angle, it delivered a desperate bite. Fortunately, the bite was ineffective. It was unable to reach the skin, the short fangs only barely penetrating the glove’s thick exterior. With a remarkable sense of calm, Beth watched generous amounts of opaque venom run down the tough leather. Without thinking, she gently manoeuvred her fingers closer to the serpent’s head, increasing her control.

  In disbelief, Beth admired her prize. The snake wrapped the full length of her powerful body around her captor’s arm. It felt like an honour. At their mother’s invitation, first one, then the other of the children approached, filled with awe, to caress the body of the reptile.

  “Isn’t she beautiful?” whispered Beth.

  They murmured comments about the dry tissue softness of her skin and the strength of her coils. She lay, now silently acquiescent, in their mother’s arms. Beth was enchanted. She felt power, empathy and wonder. Close inspection revealed that the snake had recently shed her skin. This explained her dazzling colours and brilliant eyes. The new outer skin was like a coat of clear celluloid, highlighting with vivid clarity the colours beneath.

  Whatever would she do now? The fact was that if she released the angry snake it would probably bite her.

  “Where are you going to put it?” asked Rick.

  ‘How about your old duffle bag?” suggested Sarah.

  Her mother nodded. In no time Sarah was back with a battered, black overnight bag. Beth cast an uncertain eye over it and decided it would have to do. She looked back at the snake and was held momentarily in the golden liquidity of her gaze. Part of her fervently wished that the moment would never end. With a long sigh, she relinquished her prisoner, lowering her into the darkness of the bag. With a quick motion, she let go and managed to safely withdraw her hand. In a jiffy the case was zipped and secure. Rick rushed over with bright, excited eyes.

  “That’s the coolest thing I ever saw, Mum!”

  He gave his surprised mother a congratulatory shake of the hand. Now it was done, she felt a little weak at the knees.

  Rick tried to pick up the bag. He could barely lift it. Then Sarah had a go. The snake was heavier than they expected. Beth herself found it difficult to move the bag onto the doorstep.

  She sat down on the porch beside it to consider her next move. An earsplitting electronic shriek from within the house startled her. All of the colour drained from her face as she recognised the sound of a smoke detector.

  “The dinner!” howled Beth.

  Hanging her head in her hands, she remained sitting. Sarah finally realised her mother wasn’t moving and she rushed inside to investigate.

  Moments later she screamed to her mother, “It’s all burnt. Everything’s ruined!”

  As Beth absorbed this disastrous information, she saw Mark’s red sports car turn into her driveway. The piercing alarm continued as a sort of bizarre soundtrack to catastrophe.

  “Mum,” called Sarah again.

  She came to the door to find out why her mother failed to respond.

  “Mum, the dogs have eaten the ham. Why did you leave them loose in the house? What will we do when Dad arrives?”

  Beth shook her head miserably and indicated towards the driveway. Sarah’s eyes widened in horror as she saw her father’s car pulling up on the gravel at the front of the house. Rick ran excitedly up to him.

  “Guess what, guess what! Mum’s got a huge, poisonous snake in that bag and she’s burnt lunch.”

  Sarah, glaring at her brother, was close to tears.

  Abruptly, Beth rose and went inside without greeting her guests.

  Upon entering the kitchen she was confronted by a terrible scene. Dell, her collie bitch, was contentedly chewing on the remains of the leg of ham. The plum pudding that Beth had made with such care had long since boiled dry and lay like a large wrinkled prune in the base of a blackened, smoking saucepan. She couldn’t bear to look in the oven to discover the fate of the turkey and vegetables. She turned everything off and opened wide the window and the adjacent sliding door. All the while, the infernal racket of the smoke detector continued. Fetching a broom from the laundry, she used its handle to silence the alarm. Then she shoved the dogs outside before venturing out to the front porch, where she found Mark curiously poking the bag with his foot.

  Helen stood tentatively nearby. She wore a white halter neck top with her midriff exposed. Her cut-off designer jeans barely covered her underpants. Her evenly tanned legs were bare, except for a pair of strappy, leopard print, high-heeled sandals. Beth thought it a ridiculous outfit for a day in the country. Sarah sat in the car beside Chance, who remained asleep in his baby capsule. Rick was gleefully relating the events of the morning to his father, adding a few colourful embellishments of his own here and there.

  Beth gritted her teeth, gathered her wits and determined to salvage the situation.

  “Why don’t you all come inside?” she suggested with a forced smile upon her face.

  “Whatever were you thinking?” gasped Mark in amazement.

  “You could have been killed. Or the kids could have been!”

  “Is there really a snake in there?” asked Helen, praying for a negative response.

  “I’m afraid so,” answered Beth brightly. “But don’t worry. It’s quite safe. I mean, it can’t hurt you. I’ll just put it away and then you can get little Chance out of that hot car”.

  As her guests looked on in dismayed silence, Beth picked up the duffle bag. The occasional thump could clearly be heard emanating from within. With an effort, she turned towards the door.

  “Inside?” said Mark incredulously. “You must be joking. What will you do with it then? Invite it for Christmas dinner?”

  Beth had no clear plan. She just wanted to get the luggage out of sight, as the subject of the snake seemed to be monopolising the conversation. It was certainly an unfortunate and highly embarrassing turn of events. She desperately wanted to diffuse the situation and felt a d
egree of compromise was in order.

  “You’re right. I’ll put it in the shed and work out what to do with it later. The main thing is to get the kids out of this heat.”

  “Chop its bloody head off. That’s what I’d do with it,” said Mark.

  Beth pretended not to hear him. Mark scowled but held his peace. His attempt to assist Beth with the bag was politely but firmly refused, so he busied himself helping the children in with the presents. A nervous Helen took the baby capsule out of the car and warily stepped inside the door.

  Meanwhile, Beth hauled the bag around to the back of the house. She had no intention of putting it in the shed, which became unbearably hot during the middle of the day. Concerned for the welfare of the distressed reptile, she struggled up the steps to the back door and surreptitiously stashed it in the cool laundry, before joining her guests in the living room. There she found the children happily examining a pile of colourfully wrapped Christmas gifts. Thankfully Sarah’s mood had brightened, and at her mother’s invitation, she began to distribute the parcels from under the tree.

  “Children first!” demanded Rick and his father cheerfully agreed. Despite the lingering scorched smell, Beth felt that the situation was coming under control. She noticed Mark smiling at her and she smiled back.

  “Why don’t you go and change, Honey. We’ll wait ‘til you get back to open the presents.”

  For a moment, Beth thought that he was talking to his girlfriend. Although Beth secretly agreed that Helen did indeed need to change, it soon became apparent that his remarks were directed towards her. Although irritated and more than a little confused by his request, she went along with it to keep the peace. Helen looked distinctly put out by Mark’s use of the term of endearment.