textfiles/magazines/HOE/hoe-0689.txt

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   ooooo   ooooo  .oooooo.  oooooooooooo       HOE E'ZINE RELEASE #689
   `888'   `888' d8P'  `Y8b `888'     `8
    888     888 888      888 888            "A Black Snake in the Spring"
    888ooooo888 888      888 888oooo8
    888     888 888      888 888    "                 by Rhea
    888     888 `88b    d88' 888       o              6/14/99
   o888o   o888o `Y8bood8P' o888ooooood8
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        Underneath Michael's sleeping eyelids strange memories twisted and
 turned and rumbled through his dreams.  He dreamt of what had been his 15
 month-old blurred vision of the world, and of strange sounds forming
 unintelligible words that consumed his ears.  There was one sound that
 pleased his 15-month-old ears, it was familiar.  It was sweet and clear and
 melodic.  The blurry eyes turned towards the source of the pleasant sound--a
 vague comforting shape was making it.  Mother!

        A long hand and long fingers reached out and caressed his fine hair.
 She made more blurred sounds, and so did the talking shapes around her.
 Michael giggled and crawled away in the grass.

        Suddenly a big, ugly, black snake caught his attention.  It was just
 sitting there, in the sunny grass, looking ugly.

        "Laa daaba," he said, imitating the throaty noises the big people
 used, trying to tell Mother what he saw.

        She didn't do anything.  "Daa laa!" he said again, more impatiently.
 He pointed at the ugly black snake.

        She still didn't notice.  Michael gave up, and burst into tears, and
 crawled back to Mother's side.  She looked down at him and picked him up.

        The fluttering, dreaming eyelids popped open suddenly.  Michael's
 back was sore, and he realized that he had dozed off with an uncomfortable
 stick under his back.

        He was suddenly conscious of the girl beside him in the grass.
 Margaret's eyes looked carelessly at his, until she saw that they were open.
 "Awake?" asked Margaret.

        Michael sat up with a groggy yawn and shook his head. "Barely," he
 said.  "I have that strange disoriented feeling one gets after falling
 asleep in the sun.  I didn't mean to fall asleep.  I was just lying down,
 and thinking--"

        "I remember," interrupted Margaret.  "You said, 'The warm sun is
 almost intoxicating.' Then you closed your eyes."

        He smiled lazily at her.  "How long were my eyes closed?"

        "Not long," she replied, unable to keep from smiling back.  "Just
 long enough for an elephant-shaped cloud I was looking at turn into a
 car-shaped one."

        He looked up at the sky.  "That one?" he asked, pointing.  "It does
 look like a car."

        Margaret nodded.

        Michael reached a long arm for the notebook lying on the grass to his
 side, then flipped open to the page he had been writing on.  He pulled off
 the cap of the pen that had been next to the notebook, and twirled it a
 little in his fingers as he looked at the page.

        "'Julie, you have no idea of the heavy feeling in my stomach when I
 saw your luscious eyes looking at Brian so fondly.  It was as if my heart
 had broken and fallen into the pit of my stomach with the weight of
 disappointment,'" read Michael.

        Margaret stared down at the grass, which was a little smushed from
 the imprint of her elbow.  She regretted that the pungent smell of the bug
 spray coated on her arms overwhelmed and obliterated the smell of the grass.
 She turned her head to look at Michael.  "Are you sure 'luscious' is a good
 word to describe someone's eyes?" she asked.  "'Luscious' seems more like a
 lips word."

        Michael's eyebrow creased a tiny bit and he reread the sentence.
 "But I want her to know how appealing I find her," he said.  "'Luscious' is
 a very strong, appealing word."

        Margaret nodded slowly.  "OK, then," she said.  She liked the way his
 luscious lips formed the word "luscious."  It was almost as if he was
 kissing the air with that word.

        "Oh, I don't know, Margaret.  I'm having second thoughts.  I don't
 think I could bear the humiliation of actually giving this letter to her,"
 he said suddenly in a quiet voice.  He didn't look at her, he looked up at
 the sky as he said it--at the car-shaped cloud, maybe.

        "Michael, she'll like it," Margaret said, her voice softer than she
 would like.  She cleared her throat a little, then said a little louder,
 "You've gone through all the trouble of writing it already.  You might as
 well give it to her."

        He turned to face her.  A piece of his blonde hair strayed in the
 motion, then settled back into his part when he said, "Do you think?  I
 guess you're right."

        Margaret heard a noise in the trees behind her.  Dead leaves crackled
 a little and the bushes rustled together.  She wondered if someone came and
 saw the two of them in the grass together, would the person think they were
 lovers, enjoying the beauty of the spring around them?

        "This bug spray makes my nose sting a little.  I should get a new
 scented one," she said.

        Michael was writing in the notebook, and didn't seem to hear her.
 She breathed out in a hint of a wistful sigh, then went back to look at the
 odorless, bent grass.

        "OK, I'm finished, I guess," he announced, then read, "'You have won
 my heart, Julie, and I would rather have you break it a million times with
 your smiles at Bryan than give it to someone else.  If anything in this
 letter meant anything to you, please smile one of those smiles at me, once.
 I hope it has helped you learn how I feel.  Love, Michael.'"

        "Are you sure you want to sign it with 'love'?" asked Margaret.
 "Maybe something a bit less, like--"

        "But I love her," Michael said.  Margaret tried very hard to keep her
 face from reacting.

        "Oh," she said hollowly.

        Michael smiled his lazy smile at his friend, then stood up.  "I guess
 we're done.  Thanks for helping me write it, Margaret.  I needed a girl's
 perspective."

        Words can be cruel, thought Margaret.  She stood up, too, with the
 help of the strong warm hand he offered her.  "It was no problem," she said
 with a smile.  She began walking towards the path.

        Suddenly, something big, round, long, and black caught her eye.  She
 cried out a little, startled.

        "What was that?" Michael asked, following her.

        "An ugly snake.  It startled me," she said.

        Michael laughed.  "It's just a black snake," he said.  "They're
 harmless."

        Margaret looked at the notebook he held in his hand.  "I know," she
 said.  Then she laughed, too.  To think he would humiliate himself by
 showing that bunch of sentimental blabber to Julie!  It would be a nice
 revenge if Julie raised her eyebrow a little as she read the letter, then
 tossed it in the nearest trash can apathetically.

        As they walked, Margaret had the feeling that the black snake was
 eyeing them with cruel beady eyes.  The frown on her face deepened a little.

        Even Michael turned around and looked back at it for a second.  Then
 he glanced down at his notebook and smiled a little.  Love was wonderful in
 the spring, he thought.

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 [ (c) !LA HOE REVOLUCION PRESS!      HOE #689 - WRITTEN BY: RHEA - 6/14/99 ]