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solid amber, eats lizards, frogs, salamanders
    Garter Snake, 4, it’s garter, not garden, like the thing guys used to wear to hold up their socks. Striped. Hangs out by streams, eats minnows, frogs, salamanders .
    Ribbon Snake, 3, gracile (?) small-headed, does not bite unless seized, when might nip firmly. 1 w/ blue stripes 1 w/ red etc. etc. getting tired of this
    Black Racer, 3, noted for alert demeanor, readiness to bite, and speed. Aaagh. Climbs well. Swallows prey alive. Eats baby birds out of nests, frogs, insects etc. etc .
    Blue Racer, 2, similar, dark turquoise color
    Yellow-bellied Racer, 1, sage green on top, eats cicadas
    Indigo Snake, 1, shiny ink blue. Lives in burrows w/ gopher turtles. Hisses, flattens muscular neck vertically, and strikes. Oh, great, just great. Pretty, though .
    â€œAaaagh!” I stopped, shocked at myself, calling a snake pretty? I was supposed to be finding a way to get rid of my snakes, and here I was writing down that they ate cicadas and they were pretty.
    All through this, the snakes kept gabbing like deejays. I was starting to learn to tune them out like background noise, like the radio or the television if somebody left it on in the next room.
    I had twenty-two snakes listed so far, and I was tired and cranky but almost finished. “Okay, you other stripy ones,” I muttered. Two of them, one sticking its blunt little face out from behind each of my ears. They had pretty yellow and tan stripes on their sides, but their tops were solid black. “You’re not garter snakes. What are you?”
    I was talking to myself, but they replied in my head. We are Quick-Flick, Sssky-Bridger, Water-Ssstrider .
    Ssswift-Ssswimmer.
    crayfisssh-Killer .
    I mumbled, “Crayfish,” and turned to the index. There was only one reference. Page 171. A second later I yelped, “You’re queen snakes!” Regina septemvittata . “Are you by any chance female?”
    No, they were guy queen snakes. I sensed it right away. But before they could really answer, the scarlet king snake, who was female, cut in.
    Bearersss of live young , she sneered. Blood-Birthersss, like mammalsss. There’sss nothing regal about them .
    I ignored her and moved on. “Okay, almost finished. You green snakes are Green Snakes, I guess?” All the snake names in the book were capitalized.
    We are Hatchlingsss of the Ssssun , one of them said. We are Sharp-Sssight .
    We are Tree-Climber , said another.
    They sure were, but according to the book, the Smooth Green Snake, aka grass snake, was more likely to stay on the ground and hunt crickets, caterpillars, grasshoppers, and so on. The Rough Green Snake climbed trees to hunt bugs, hanging in a loop from a branch to sleep at night.
    I liked the idea of the shining green snake hanging like a hoop earring in a tree. And the book said green snakes didn’t bite. Without thinking, just curious, I asked, “Are you guys rough or smooth?” and put up a hand to find out.
    To touch.
    I touched my snakes.
    Oooh, scales, like a thousand polished, diamond-shaped fingernails, warm and cool at the same time, with strong, strong muscles rippling underneath, steely, alive. The touch zipped like an electric shock straight to my heart. I snatched my hand away, but the feel of snake tingled and lingered on my fingertips the way the feel of my first kiss, last summer, had lingered for hours on my lips.

FIVE
    A big box arrived at the apartment door the next day, which was really bizarre, because it was Sunday. No mail, no UPS, no messenger service, and anyway, we hadn’t buzzed anybody in. But when I opened the door to go get Mom a newspaper, there it sat.
    Not cardboard. Black enameled wood, with a lid and a fancy padlock. Like a treasure chest. A hinged, arched lid with “Miss Medusa Gorgon” painted on it in curly white letters.
    â€œCool!” I exclaimed.
    â€œWhat in the world?” Mom wondered aloud.
    We dragged the box