I’m up on top of Colton’s bed faster than a jackrabbit.
“What? What is it?” Colton’s eyes flash wide in surprise.
I scurry to the center of the bed, knocking Colton off his axis, and frantically pull my feet under me. The rusted iron bedsprings burst to life, creaking and squeaking with each sudden movement.
Colton attempts to soothe me by putting his hand on my back; all the while, I pad around his bed like the mattress is made of hot coals and it’s all I can do to not get burned.
“Missy, what’s going …”
In my freak-out, my hand flings wide and the flashlight I’m holding clocks Colton in the face.
“Ahh.” Colton grips the bridge of his nose.
“Oh, stars! Colton, are you okay?” I nearly knock him off the bed in my attempt to give aid, my hand reaching for his nose. While at the same time, my eyes keep flicking back to the floor.
“I’m fine. I’m fine.” Colton waves my hand away, but by the strain in his voice, I know I’ve hit him good.
“What’s going on, Missy?” He looks directly at me, wiggling his nose that’s now sporting a red mark. It looks painful, so much so that it immediately sobers me, and I finally get full control of my limbs.
“A snake,” I say, breathing heavily. “A big one.”
Colton reaches for the offending flashlight and shines it over the ledge. In tandem, we both lean over, and sure enough, a big ole snake slithers across the concrete until it conceals half its body under my bed.
My mouth runs dry as, this time, I see the snake more clearly. It’s tan, with a distinct black-and-red pattern, and if I had to guess, it’s about eight feet long with a body that’s roughly the circumference of my upper arm.
“Eh, it’s just a little snake, is all,” Colton says, mimicking my earlier comment about the red hair in his bed.
I backhand his chest.
He briefly chuckles, but when he gets another glimpse of the snake, it knocks the humor right out of him. “Okay, so it might be one of the biggest snakes I’ve ever seen.”
A squeak escapes my lips, and my breathing escalates.
“Hey, hey.” Colton places a hand on my shoulder.
“Can snakes climb bedposts?” I shrink away from the edge of the bed until my back is flat against the wall and my knees are tucked against me. I feel as if a dozen baby snakes are slithering up my arms and legs.
“Hey,” Colton says calmly. “Look at me.”
I follow his directive, my gaze colliding with his sapphire eyes, bright with the reflection of the flashlight’s glow.
“It’s going to be okay,” he says, reassuringly.
“And by okay, you mean a snake snack?”
“No, because tonight, we’re sleeping on the top bunk. You okay with that?”
I nod my head vigorously. “Yes.” Because there’s no way in Dollywood I’m going down there now.
It takes a few minutes for my heart rate to decelerate and for Colton and me to find a suitable sleeping arrangement that will allow us to get more than an hour of sleep. For a half second, we attempt to lie down like chopsticks next to one another, but I immediately start to feel like that arcade game where you drop a token onto a sliding platform full of other tokens in hopes one will fall off the ledge so you can get the prize. Yeah, well, I did not want to be a falling token tonight, nor a snake’s prize.
Colton and I readjust and sit upright, huddling together as we sit in the sagging center of the bed, our legs and arms squished tightly against one another. He offers me his pillow, which I quickly stuff in the inch of space between the wall at our backsand the bunk bed, just in case the snake gets curious and decides he wants to climb up here and pretend he’s something other than a snake—like a belt or a necklace, for instance.
Colton and I spend the next ten minutes trying—and failing—
to fall asleep as we lean against a wood wall that feels as thick as cardboard.
“Are you cold?” Colton asks.
