By Patrick M. Fitzgerald
“That guy’s getting angry.” Timothy pointed at the mountains in the distance as the ground shook beneath us.
We’d gotten out of school early after the quakes grew so strong they knocked the books off the shelves.
“What guy?” I asked. Timothy was older and knew a lot of stuff, mostly weird stories he’d heard from his grandmother. She was a real witch, like in the fairy tales—warts and all.
“See his fangs there? It’s a giant snake. Grandma calls him Yuri Burrows.” He pointed at the taller mountains on the sides of the range. They did look a bit like snake fangs.
“Yeah, I see it now. What’s got him angry, though?”
“See the smoke over there? That’s from the miners digging into those mountains. He doesn’t like it when people dig into his teeth.”
A shiver went down my spine. It reminded me of the last time I’d been to the dentist. “Dang. I know how he feels.”
“Yup. He’s getting real angry, and one of these days, he’s gonna chomp down and gobble all of us up.”
“Wait, what? Chomp down?” I looked around. “Are you saying we’re standing on his mouth?”
“Yup.” He pointed to the mountains on the far side of the island. “That’s the other side of his jaw down there. One of these days, he’s just gonna…” Timothy opened his mouth wide and chomped his teeth together with a big grin.
“He can’t do that, can he? How would he swallow?”
Timothy tilted his head for a moment and looked around. The hill we were on rose high above the woods, and I could see our town down below. Roads crisscrossed the landscape of the serpent’s mouth, leading to other towns in the distance.
“I’ll show you.” He turned and ran through the woods, and I chased after him.
After nearly fifteen minutes of gasping and stumbling and climbing, we came to a cliff overlooking a deep lake. He pointed to a sign: “No Diving, No Swimming, No Fishing.”
“Some of the older kids swim here, though,” I said.
“Yeah, but they don’t know what this really is. That’s his gullet, there.” He pointed down into the lake. “This used to be a quarry until it swallowed up a bunch of the miners.”
I felt the blood drain from my face. “Has it ever eaten the kids that swim here?”
“It sure has.” He stared at me intently. “Why else would they put up that sign?”
He was right. Something really bad must have happened for them to do that.
The earth shook again. Several rocks fell from the cliff and splashed into Yuri Burrows’s mouth. Timothy’s eyes widened, and then we ran home as fast as we could.
I curled up in bed with my head under the covers, but I was too out of sorts to sleep. My parents had never mentioned Mr. Burrows to me before. It must have been one of those things adults didn’t tell kids because they didn’t want to worry them. That made sense. I was pretty worried.
The ground shook beneath me.
“Hungry!” a deep, bellowing voice echoed from somewhere in the distance.
The house started to tilt. I had to grip my mattress to keep from falling out of bed. The walls buckled around me, and the roof caved in. I could see the other side of the island coming down as the serpent’s jaws closed.
The world kept tilting until my house was crushed under the hills on the side of the island.
I lost my grip on my bed and fell.
Everyone I knew was plummeting into the beast’s gullet. My mom blew me a kiss, Timothy waved with a wink, my teacher screamed.
I looked up at the two mountain ranges closing up together. The moon hung like an after-dinner mint between them. It cracked when the teeth hit it, sending fragments of moonlight falling into the world below.
I landed on my bed, in a pool of my own sweat. It was just a nightmare. For now.
The next afternoon, I went by the swimming hole after school. I’d saved my lunch with the sandwich my mom had made. I sat cross-legged on the cliff, unwrapped the sandwich, and broke it in two.
“Mister Burrows, I know you probably get pretty hungry, as big as you are.” I took a bite out of my half and dropped the other half into his mouth. “I thought we could share my lunch. I know it’s not much, but my momma makes really good sandwiches. I hope you like it.”
I sat for a while, eating with him. “Mister, I know there’s some bad folks here that make you angry, but there’s some good people, too. Like my momma, who made that sandwich. It’s good, isn’t it? She makes one every day for me. There’s Timothy’s grandma, too. She might be a little scary, but she’s really nice. She’s the one who told him all about you.”
Mister Burrows rumbled, but a bit quieter now.
“Oh! There’s Timothy, he’s the best friend I could ask for. And my dad, he’s a really hard worker, and he always takes the time to read to me at bedtime… There’s so many good people here, Mister Burrows. Please don’t gobble us all up just because of a few bad folk, okay?”
And after a few moments, the ground stopped shaking all together, so I guessed he was full enough for now.
But I couldn’t help looking at his fangs looming high on the horizon. “I’ll be back with another sandwich if you get hungry again, I promise.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Aw, this was great! I loved the sweetness of the MC! And the world is so fascinating–the mountains a snake waiting to swallow the island?! Wow :o great job!
“He doesn’t like it when people dig into his teeth.”
“Dang. I know how that feels.” –> love it.
I wonder how many sandwiches an island-sized snake is gonna eat…
I love the MC. Practical thinker, sharing food and asking politely to not be eaten. Very nice read.