Chapter 18
At barely a foot long, the snake was smaller than most vipers Jean had seen. She thought it might be just a baby. Olive green in color, its yellow markings glistened in the sunlight. The pretty shade was an excellent camouflage against the fallen leaves and, if Matilda hadn’t been paying attention, Jimmy would have stepped on it. Then the snake would have wrapped itself around Jimmy’s leg and wouldn’t have let go until it had killed him.
After all they had been through it wouldn’t be fair for little Jimmy to die. Jean wasn’t sure how but she wasn’t going to let that happen. She’d have to distract the snake somehow.
The snake was slithering toward Jimmy. Maybe Jimmy couldn’t see it but he couldn’t have missed its’ hissing as the snake’s head shot up and its mouth widened, exposing large fangs.
Very slowly, Jean bent down and picked up a stick. All sets of eyes watched her, wondering no doubt what she was going to do. Jean wasn’t quite sure herself.
The snake stopped, probably startled by the sudden sound.
Jean reached in her pocket and took out the pouch with the coltan. Slowly and deliberately, she handed the stick to Matilda. Matilda touched the stick as though it was burning hot. Then Jean moved in front of Jimmy. He grabbed her by the legs and hid behind her dress, whimpering.
Jean bent down and opened the pouch. “You have to hit the snake with the stick,” she said to Matilda, “and push it into the pouch while I hold the pouch in front of it.”
Matilda’s saucer shaped eyes almost popped out of her head. “Not me,” she said.
“Okay, then I’ll be the one to push the snake. You stand here and close the pouch as soon as the snake crawls in.”
“You crazy girl,” she said. “I’m going to run away, that’s what I’m going to do.”
“Listen,” Jean spoke through her teeth, “I risked my life to save you and now you have to help us. Do you understand?”
“Why me?” Matilda was watching the snake.
“Because Jimmy and Natalie are too young. You’re the oldest.”
“And what if I get bitten?”
“You won’t get bitten. Not if you’re fast.”
“I’m not fast.”
“I’ll do it.” Natalie threw her rag doll down and grabbed the stick from Matilda.
“You’re only six,” Jean argued.
“So I’m not afraid of no snake. All I have to do is push it, right?”
Jean nodded and then mumbled “Coward,” under her breath to Matilda.
Natalie crouched down and prodded the snake in the direction of the pouch. The snake was clearly not eager to go. Jean rattled the coltan. The snake stopped and stared.
Slowly, it crawled towards the bag. For one moment it stopped and Jean got a swooping sensation in her stomach. What if it didn’t work? What if Natalie got bitten and it was all Jean’s fault because it had been Jean’s idea? What if the snake bit Jean clear through the material in the pouch?
Jean rattled the stones again.
The snake advanced and peeked its’ head into the bag. Matilda opened her mouth to say something and Jean shot her a dark look. Everyone waited, frozen in their places. Jean looked into Natalie’s eyes, full of fear and wonder.
And then the snake slid further into the pouch. The moment its head disappeared, Jean quickly tugged at the drawstring and closed the bag. Then she pushed Natalie out of the way. They all watched the snake half in the bag and half out. Finally the entire snake wiggled inside. Everyone watched as the bag jumped in the air for a moment and then landed with a flutter on the ground, as though defeated.
“Is it dead?” Jimmy whispered, peeping between Jean’s legs.“Probably not,” Jean said. “Probably just sitting and waiting.”
“What was in that bag, anyway?” Matilda asked in a sullen tone of voice.
Jean glared at her. “Something I need. Something I have to return. But later. Right now we have to go. There’s no telling when they’ll be back for you. We’ve been lucky so far.”
“You lead the way,” Matilda said sarcastically as she looked down at Jean’s purple and bruised leg.
At least, Jean thought, the children won’t have any problems keeping up with me.
“We’re going to be safe,” Jimmy cheered and a yell broke out.
Jean felt proud, felt safe. Her spirits soaring, she took Natalie’s hand and headed towards the forest.
And then she heard the dull sound of an engine. A car was approaching.
Everyone became mute. They stared at the silent pouch. Then they stared at Jean, as though they expected her to do something.
The children, even Matilda, came and stood by Jean, as though she could protect them.
Jean recognized the shiny, black limousine immediately. The last time she had ridden in the car, Victor had been driving. Jean half expected him to get out, pointing his pistol. But when the door opened, Matthew emerged.
He wasn’t looking so prestigious anymore. In fact, he looked tired and rather beaten. No doubt he was in deep trouble because of the missing coltan. Jean couldn’t help feeling a bit sorry for him. Maybe he was a victim, just like her. But the moment he opened his mouth, she changed her mind.
“Well, well, well,” he said in a malicious voice, “I got to admit you’re one resourceful little girl. You had me chasing you all over. But the game is over, Jean. It’s over for all of you.”
Jimmy released a strangled cry.
Jean saw the gun tucked in his pants. She didn’t doubt that he would shoot her, although he probably didn’t have enough bullets for all of them. He couldn’t put them back in the hut, not with the broken window. And while Jean was wondering what Matthew’s plans were, he bellowed, “Where’s the coltan, Jean?”
She stood her ground. “I don’t have it.”
“I know,” Matthew said, in a tired disgusted voice. “You lost it.”
“I did. I told—”
“Shut up!” And then Matthew took out the gun and pointed it at her. Matilda gasped and Natalie ducked. “Do you think I’m stupid?”
Jean shook her head.
“Do you think for one minute that you’re going to do to me what you did to Victor? Lead him on a wild goose chase and then desert him when he was mauled by a wild animal, just leaving him there to die?”
Jean thought for one moment she was going to laugh. Leaving him there to die? “He would have killed me,” she said.
“You’re right,” Matthew held the gun steady. “And why shouldn’t he kill you? Do you think for one moment that your life is worth anything? Look at you,” he scowled at her, his eyes stopping at her leg. Then his eyes sped from left to right, finally settling on Jimmy. “You’re a bunch of witch children.”
“We’re not witch children,” Jean mumbled.
“I’m a witch,” Matilda said. “My grandmother says so.”
“I’m a witch, too,” Jimmy said, cheerfully agreeing because he hadn’t seen the gun. “I made my neighbor die. I don’t know why I did that, because I liked my neighbor.”
“Shut up!” Matthew screamed.
“You have children,” Jean said quickly. “How would you like it if someone told you that your son wasn’t worth anything, or the daughter I saved in the woods? I saved her because she was important, because she was a life—”
“Don’t think for one moment that you have anything in common with my daughter!” Matthew snapped. “My daughter is special, and do you know why she’s special? She’s special because she came from me. Because my blood flows in her, because she was born into nobility. I bet,” he sneered, “you don’t even know who your father is.”
There was an embarrassed silence.
“I’ll kill you. I’ll kill all of you and guess what? No one will know. No one will care.” It was very still in the woods. Somewhere in the distant a sunbird chirped.
“If you don’t know where the coltan is,” Matthew cocked his gun, “then there is absolutely no reason to keep you alive.”
“Someone found it,” Jean said hurriedly.
“Who?”
And then Jean saw it. Out of the corner of her eye, Matilda was looking at the pouch, as though she had guessed that was what was buried inside.
Jean opened her mouth to implicate Ruth. But she realized almost immediately that would be a mistake. If Jean told Matthew what she knew, nothing would prevent him from killing her and the rest of the children almost immediately. He would probably shoot Ruth too, especially when he learned that she had already been selling it off.
And she didn’t have the rest of it.
Jean eyed the bag and swallowed hard. Matthew’s stare traveled from her face to the ground and the pouch.
“Is it in there?” he asked.
She nodded. She looked around at the children. They’re eyes were wide and terrified. If someone should warn him –
She glared at Matilda who opened her mouth. Matilda shut it again.
He eyed Jean with narrow eyes. Jean thought he was probably trying to decide whether or not she could be trusted.
But his greed was stronger than his suspicions.
He walked toward the pouch while Jean prayed.
Please don’t let the snake move. Please don’t let him guess what we’re up to. Please let him just open the pouch and drop the gun. And then because she wanted to do the right thing, she prayed that the snake wouldn’t bite him.
But Matthew was keeping one eye on the children and one eye on the pouch, so even if it inched slightly, he would have missed it. He bent down, grabbed the pouch and in one quick flash, he tore it open. The snake sprang out and lunged for Matthew’s arm, embedding his fangs into Matthew’s flesh.
Matthew let out a horrific scream and dropped the pouch, scattering the coltan everywhere
He dropped the gun as well.
Matilda scooped up the gun, and then Jean grabbed it from her.
“Help me,” Matthew yelled, “I’ve been bitten. I need medical attention.” Suddenly Matthew’s eyes weren’t cold anymore, they were pleading, especially when he saw Jean, holding the pistol.
“We’re going to a refuge,” Jean said, “and when we get there, we’ll tell them everything that happened.”
He looked at her foot. “You’ll never make it.”
“You better pray that I make it,” she said, “because if we don’t make it, you’re dead.” She looked at the children, waved her hands and said, “Let’s go.”
They walked behind her. “Oh,” she turned around and faced Matthew who was wriggling on the ground, the snake still attached to his arm. “Just so you know, God make us and we matter.”