Part V: Snakes – Snake #4 (Chapter 92)


M
onique Bodine made a dramatic entrance into my life, bearing a large bottle of white pills that looked like small mints.

“Bennies,” she said. “Take one every four hours.”

Which I have been doing faithfully.

I’ve been taking diet pills for about 10 days now; I’m about to jump out of my skin.

For something to do, I’ve circled the backyard at least 20 times today, and played toss-the-stick with Killer, the dog, at least 100 times.



Killer and I have become good friends, having arrived at an understanding after I whacked his snout with a newspaper after he snapped at me.

Mother calls me inside.

In the kitchen, Junior, naked, jumps up and down on the kitchen table while eating baby food cottage cheese straight from the jar. I have since learned that Junior eats nothing but cottage cheese and drinks nothing but coffee. I wonder how he survives; he seems to have more energy than all of us put together, including me, who, on the diet pills, climbs the walls.



I can only imagine how Junior must feel inside.

I called Nana last week and complained about Junior’s antics.

“He’s retarded, Sammy,” she said softly. “You have to be understanding.”

I’ve tried not to yell at the kid when he gets on my nerves. Really, I have. But sometimes....

“Sam-Sam!” Junior screeches, not once breaking his stride.

I wave to him just before I round the corner into the rec room.

“I need your opinion on something,” Mother says, pointing at the wall. “You think it needs painting?”

I look around. The yellowish walls do seem a little dingy, but nothing a little soap and water won’t fix. “Gee, I don’t know.”



“I think I’ll hire a painter.”

“I can do it!” I have never painted a wall before, but how hard could it be? Besides, it would be something to do, a way to blow off some of this extra energy and make myself at least a little bit useful.

Mother laughs. “Thanks, sweetie, but I think we need a professional.”

“I know I could do it. Please?”

“I just don’t think so....”

“Maybe I could help anyway?”

“We’ll see.” Her voice doesn’t offer much hope.

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