Venom!
Pamela Ebel
“You
did what? John, how could
you?”
“Why
the big fuss, Jan? I ran
into Bob Harris downtown yesterday and he mentioned he thought our wedding
anniversary was coming up. Remembered being my Best Man and that wild Bachelor
Bash, he gave me. I told him about the
party and gave him the date and time. So, he and Chris got a divorce. Half of
our friends from the early days are divorced. This is my anniversary party too,
and I don’t feel right about not having him come. I know it will be a bit
difficult with Holly coming, but we’re adults Jan, not teenagers.”
“What
do you mean ‘with Holly coming?’
Surely that asshole isn’t planning to drag that woman to our gathering. You
should have asked me first. Christine is still coming to terms with Bob
cheating on her, and with their son’s college professor! Bob even told her that
he found someone more his ‘intellectual equal.’ Chris has always struggled with
not getting her degree like the rest of us.”
“Well,
if she hadn’t gotten
herself pregnant in our freshman year…”
“I’m
sorry, John. I thought it
took two people to make a baby. I never heard Bob suggest Christine raped him!”
“God,
I wish you hadn’t started
taking that Feminist History course. Just get a grip and plan the party. Bob
is
going to announce his engagement to Holly Sutter then! I am going to be late
for work.”
An
hour after her husband left,
Jan called Christine.
“Hey
Chris, how you doing this
morning?”
“Pretty
well today. Just got
back in from my run and headed to the yoga class you recommended. I also need
to go look for a dress for your party. I bet you’re getting excited.”
“Well,
the party is the reason
I’m calling. John invited Bob without telling me. He also said Bob wants to
bring Holly Sutter and announce their engagement!”
There
was total silence from
Christine.
“Chris,
are you all right? Are
you still there? Say something, please!”
“Jan,
I just can’t face him and
that woman and our friends so soon. It has only been three months since the
final decree. Everyone will know how long his relationship was going on and
thinking how stupid I am. I can’t talk right now.”
After
hanging up with Jan, Christine
dialed a long-distance number.
“You
have reached the home of
Dr. Sue Richardson. Please leave your name, number and a brief message and I
will return your call as soon as possible.”
“It’s
your Sissy Chrissy, Suzie
Q. I’m having a really bad day and I need to talk to you. Bob is going to marry
that Sutter woman soon. Please call me!”
Two
weeks later, when the
research group she was leading in the Congo got back to cell reception, Sue
Richardson heard the message. After several calls she reached her sister’s
friend Jan, who shared the events of the day the message was left.
“I
called her all day, Dr. Richardson.
Finally, I asked her son to please go check on her. He found Chris in the
bedroom with the empty sleeping pill bottle. We didn’t know how to reach you.
The funeral was two weeks ago. I am so sorry.”
Six
months later, Dr. Sue
Richardson stood in the front yard of her new house, watching the moving truck
depart.
“Hello
there!”
She
turned to see a petite,
lithe woman approaching from the house next door.
“Hello!
I wanted to be the first
to welcome you to the neighborhood. I’m Professor Holly Sutter. I didn’t notice
anyone else. Are you married?”
“I’m
Dr. Sue Richardson, and no,
I am not married.”
Sutter
looked disappointed.
“You’re
a doctor? What’s your
specialty?”
“Snakes!”
“I
beg your pardon? Did you say snakes?”
“Yes.
I just took a position
with the local zoo. I am a herpetologist and will be upgrading the reptile and
amphibian exhibit and improving the local display.”
“We
don’t have snakes in this
area! I have lived here for five years and I have never seen a snake!” Sutter
looked down at the ground as she spoke.
“Well,
perhaps you haven’t seen
any, but we are only a few miles from the Shell Bayou Wildlife Reserve that has
a wonderful gathering of snakes.”
Sutter
offered a brief welcome
wish and left.
A
month later, Professor George
Bradley drove up to Sutter’s house. She had recently announced the end of her
engagement to Bob Harris and her plan to marry Bradley after his divorce was
final. Mrs. Crowley, who lived across the street, told Sue that Bradley was the
fifth man in five years to leave his wife for Sutter, who dumped all the others
after their divorces.
Bradley
smiled broadly as he
exited his car with a huge bouquet of red roses.
“Is
this a special day, with
roses, professor?”
“Extra-special.
I moved up our
marriage date to coincide with our Thanksgiving break. Holly has been
procrastinating. But not anymore. Wish me luck.”
Sue
nodded as he headed for the
front door. Luck won’t help you, she thought and turned back to her Halloween
decorations.
Shortly
after, she heard yelling
and watched as Bradley came out the front door, waving to an ambulance pulling
up in Sutter’s driveway.
“Hurry,
she’s in the jacuzzi in
the back yard. I can’t get a pulse!”
Within
minutes police cars and
the coroner’s van filled the driveway. One officer was stationed outside to
fend off the gathering neighbors. An hour later the ambulance attendants drove
off alone. Then, a gurney appeared, rolling the covered body of Professor Holly
Sutter to the van. A distraught George Bradley appeared next, surrounded by two
police officers.
“I
can’t understand how she
could be dead from snake bites. There are no poisonous snakes in this area! I
didn’t see a snake. Have any of you ever seen snakes roaming around here?” he
shouted at the crowd, all of whom seemed stunned by the question.
Later
Sue watched the noon news:
“The
preliminary coroner’s report
indicates that Professor Holly Sutter apparently entered the jacuzzi portion of
her pool last evening and did not see, what was thought to be a water moccasin,
in it. She had multiple bites, was unable to summon help and was found dead by
her fiancé, Professor George Bradley, early this morning.”
In
the late afternoon, Sue finished
decorating and drove out of town to the Shell Bayou Wildlife Reserve. She carried
a cardboard box to the edge of the water, set it down and opened it.
A
four-foot-long water moccasin
slithered out and headed to the bayou, disappearing into the muddy water.
Sue
then walked a path that led
from the reserve to the Green Hills Cemetery and stood before a headstone. The
inscription was simple:
Christine
Anna Harris
August,
1987 – June, 2021
Grant Her Peace!
“It’s over, Sissy. The Serial
Seductress is done. You can Rest in Peace Now!”
Sue left one red rose on the
grave and started to walk away.
Hearing a rustling noise, she
turned back to see the moccasin curled at the top of the grave with the rose in
its mouth.
