by John Grisham
elbows. Tears were dripping off his cheeks.
Woody said, “You gotta make incisions over the fang marks, right Theo? Then suck out the venom.”
Theo said, “No, that’s not the way to treat a snakebite.”
“Yes it is!” Woody demanded. “I saw it on YouTube.”
“Me too,” said Phillip. “Plus that was a big snake with a lot of venom. If we don’t get it sucked out soon, they’ll have to cut the leg off.”
Percy wailed again.
“Can you just shut up?” Theo snapped.
Oliver knelt down opposite Theo. He had a snakebite kit already opened and ready for business. He said, “Look, Theo, I read the instructions. It plainly says you gotta make incisions over both fang marks with this little razor here.” He held up the razor, which was only an inch long but suddenly seemed huge. Oliver went on, “Says you gotta make an X over each fang mark, then insert the suction tube to extract the venom.”
“Why don’t you just shoot me first?” Percy said, crying again.
“That’s the old-fashioned way of treating a snakebite,” Theo said.
“But this is a brand-new snakebite kit.”
“I don’t care.”
“I thought you were supposed to put a tourniquet two inches above the bite,” Phillip observed, helpfully.
“Anybody else got a stupid opinion?” Theo barked.
Oliver looked at Percy and said, “Look, Percy, I think we need to suction out the venom. But it’s your leg. What do you think?”
Percy said, “I think I’m a dead man with you clowns in charge.” He closed his eyes, then said, “Hey, Theo, I’m getting pretty dizzy.”
“Move back,” Theo said. He quickly wrapped the wound with a sterile bandage and taped it into place. Percy was whimpering but had stopped the kicking and jerking. Theo said, “Here’s what we’re going to do. We have to get him back to the camp, then to a hospital. Let’s carry him as gently as possible down the trail until we meet the Major. Be sure to keep the snakebite below his heart. Phillip, you go first and look out for snakes.”
Oliver said, “I think we ought to slice it open and use the suction cup. Back in the old days they sucked out the venom with their mouths. If you had a cavity, the venom went straight to your brain and you died faster than the guy who got bit.”
“Would you just shut up!” Theo snapped again.
They lifted Percy off the ground and draped his arms around the necks of Woody and Cal. Theo cradled his wounded leg and Oliver took his left one. “Easy now,” Theo said. “We have to keep him still. Otherwise, the venom circulates too fast. Percy, you might feel queasy. If you need to throw up, just say something. No surprises. Okay?”
“Okay.” Percy was breathing heavily and had stopped crying. To avoid looking at his leg, he closed his eyes. The leg was getting bigger.
They shuffled down the trail with the patient getting heavier by the moment. After ten minutes, they stopped to rest. Theo said, “Talk to me, Percy. You gotta stay awake.”
“I’m awake,” he said with a weak voice.
“Do you feel sick?”
“Well, my leg certainly does.”
“How about your stomach?”
“Not yet. Am I doing to die, Theo?”
“No. It’s just a copperhead. They don’t kill people, but you’ll be sick as a dog.”
“That was a big snake, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, it was.”
“Did anybody get a picture?”
The Scouts looked at each other and realized they had been too stunned by the encounter to take a photo. “I guess not,” Theo said.
“Should I call my mom?” Percy asked.
“I think the Major should do that. Let’s go.”
They lifted him again and continued down the trail. The boys were exhausted when they saw the Major coming around a bend. He was with Mr. Hogan and Mr. Bennett. Percy was still conscious and still complaining of dizziness. They took him to a small open area near a boat ramp and laid him on a picnic table. The Major removed the sterile bandage for a look at the bite, and it was obvious he was impressed by the swelling. As they waited, Percy began clutching his stomach. Soon, he was vomiting.
The Major held him and kept a wet towel on his forehead and mouth. The more Percy vomited, the more he cried. It was a pitiful scene.
Finally, they heard the helicopter.
Chapter 9
It was a quiet dinner. Very quiet, very subdued. The Falcon Patrol kept to itself, hovered over its campfire, and ate chicken breasts grilled in a skillet and potatoes wrapped in foil and baked in the coals. When it was dark, they moved to the central campfire and joined the other patrols. All of Troop 1440 was quiet and deep in thought. The Major had phoned from the hospital where the medevac helicopter had taken him and Percy. Percy’s parents had arrived and things seemed to be under control. Fortunately, the hospital had plenty of antivenom for copperhead bites, and Percy was stable and sedated.
His buddies around the fire talked softly as they roasted marshmallows and glowed in the warmth of the burning logs. They wanted to ask the tough questions, like (1) will he die? Or (2) will he lose his leg? But they showed restraint. Oddly enough, they began telling snake stories. This made no sense whatsoever because they were nervous and jumpy anyway. Every leaf that rustled in the wind might have been a rattler. Every burning log that hissed might have been some unknown viper. Every branch snapping in the distance might have been another large copperhead easing up on them from the rear. And every ten minutes or so one Scout would sneak behind another, pop him in the neck with two fingers, and yell “Snake!” This was nerve-racking humor that produced a lot of nervous laughter. Mr. Bennett eventually moved the stories away from the serpents and back to more suitable topics like zombies and vampires.
Around 9:00 p.m., headlights approached the campsite. It was the Major arriving from the hospital. He stood in front of the troop near the campfire and gave the latest update on Percy and his wound. There was a lot of swelling in the leg and Percy felt lousy in general, but he was awake and expected to be fine. After a couple of days in the hospital, he would be released and sent home. The doctor’s biggest concern was the damaged skin around the bite. There was dead tissue and they expect some scarring.
After the Major ate a quick dinner, he asked the surviving members of the Falcon Patrol to join him down by the lake. They sat on logs not far from where the waves were gently splashing against the rocks of the shoreline. There was a full moon; it was a beautiful night; and there should not have been any problems.
However, Theo suspected trouble.
The Major asked Woody to go first and tell what happened. Woody gave a true and accurate account of the encounter with the copperhead. When he finished, the Major sent him back to the campsite. Cal went next with his story, then left. He was followed by Phillip, then Oliver, then the rest.
Suddenly, Theo was alone. Just him and the Major, who, at the moment, was looking at the moon’s reflection across the lake. “Do you agree with everyone else, Theo?” he asked.
Without hesitation, Theo answered, “Yes sir.”
The Major turned around and sat down next to Theo on the log. He cleared his throat and asked, “As a patrol leader, what are you supposed to do when your patrol confronts a dangerous animal?”
“Depends on the animal,” Theo replied.
“And in this case, it was a poisonous snake.”
“Then I’m supposed to immediately warn my patrol to move away from the snake and leave the site as soon as possible.”
“And is that what you did, Theo?”
Theo swallowed hard and said, “No sir.”
“Did you immediately recognize the snake to be a copperhead?”
“Yes sir.”
“How many poisonous snakes do we have in this part of the country?”
“Three. Copperhead, coral snake, and the timber rattler.”
“And you knew this through your study for the Natu
re merit badge?”
Theo had watched enough Perry Mason reruns and real-live courtroom trials to know the Major was setting him up for the kill. Slowly, he answered, “Yes sir.”
There was a long, painful pause as they watched the moonlit lake and waited for the Major to speak next. Finally, he said, “So, Theo, it looks as though the Falcon Patrol, while hiking in an area well-known for copperheads, actually encountered such a snake, and a large one, and instead of immediately taking steps to avoid the snake, did just the opposite. The patrol instantly moved closer, for a closer look, and at some point Percy picked up a stick and decided to agitate the snake. You, as a patrol leader, finally had the presence of mind to order everyone back, but by then, Percy, who we all know is probably not the most reliable Scout in the troop, somehow lost his balance, fell forward, practically on top of the snake, and was bitten. Is this a fair summary, Theo?”
Theo would probably change a word or two, but it seemed like a bad time to quibble. The Major had the important points dead center.
Theo bit his lip and said, “Yes sir.”
Another long pause. There was laughter in the distance from the campfire. Lucky guys.
The Major said, “Okay, Theo, pretend you’re a lawyer and give me your best defense.”
Finally, Theo thought to himself, and he did not waste a second. “The story you’ve heard is a correct version of what happened, but there were a few other factors involved. First, we were naturally on the lookout for copperheads, and most of the Falcons had snakebite kits in their backpacks. The wrong kind of kits, but let’s just say we were prepared. So when we actually saw a copperhead, and one that was so big and so beautiful it was impossible not to stop for a second to admire it, that’s what we did. We stopped to admire it. Don’t you think that’s human nature? You’re in the woods, looking for adventure, looking for excitement, and, suddenly you find it in the form of a dangerous snake. You can’t believe your good luck. You gotta stop for a second and stare at it. Everyone does that, or at least every Boy Scout. Sure we moved a little closer, but I did not lead my patrol into a dangerous situation. No sir. From where we were standing, the snake could not have struck us, and it was not moving toward us. We were not in danger; close, maybe, but not within striking range. The snake was stretched out on the narrow ledge, and when it slowly coiled itself up, either in defense or offense, don’t know for sure because how can you ever know for sure, I told the patrol to back away. For a second, no one moved, not even me, but you could tell that we were ready to bolt. Then stupid little Percy stepped forward with a stick and decided to have some fun. As soon as I saw the stick, I yelled for him to back up, but within a split second he was falling forward. He’s lucky he wasn’t bitten in the neck or face.”
The Major listened thoughtfully and considered every word. When Theo finished, there was another long gap in the conversation as they stared at the water. Finally, the Major said, “Leadership requires many things, Theo. Detailed planning, the ability to plan for the future, and so on, but it can also require a cool head in the heat of battle. I learned that in combat, where I often had to make life-and-death decisions in a split second. Your timing wasn’t so good, Theo. You should have cleared the area immediately.”
“You’re blaming me for Percy’s snakebite?”
“Not entirely. But under the circumstances, you failed to act properly.”
“Okay, if I had yelled for everyone to get away as soon as the snake was spotted do you really think Percy would have listened to me? He never does what he’s told. He doesn’t listen to me. He doesn’t listen to you. He doesn’t listen to his parents or his teachers. He was suspended from school last month for three days for setting off a pack of firecrackers during a violin concert. For the last campout he forgot to pack a toothbrush, clean underwear, clean socks, and a flashlight. He’s flunked the Tenderfoot exam twice. He’s an idiot, you know that much yourself.”
“Maybe that’s why Percy needs scouting, Theo. He needs to learn discipline and success.”
“Good luck.”
The Major turned and stared at Theo. He said, “You’re one of our leaders and one of our best Scouts, but today, Theo, you failed under pressure. You allowed your patrol to get too close to a dangerous animal, with a bad result. We have a Scout in a hospital with a badly swollen leg and some level of permanent scarring. It could’ve been worse. Theo, I have no choice but to suspend you from your leadership of the Falcon Patrol. I don’t want to embarrass you so let’s keep this quiet until our next meeting. Not a word, okay?”
Theo wanted to dislike the Major, but the fact was he admired him greatly, even adored him and wanted to imitate him. The Major had fought in wars, flown fighter jets, traveled the world, had two or three successful careers, and now, for fun, dedicated himself as a volunteer scoutmaster in a near full-time capacity. Theo ached at the thought that the Major believed he had failed his patrol in some way.
But the Major was a tough Marine, and Theo could try and be one as well. He swallowed hard, gritted his teeth, and said, “Yes sir.”
Clouds rolled in quickly, and the night was suddenly black. Theo followed the Major back to the campsite, where things were winding down as the ghost stories and snake stories were losing some of their appeal. The campfire was extinguished, the food secured, and the Scouts drifted off to their tents. Every sleeping bag was shaken and carefully inspected for snakes. Every tent was examined by flashlights, inch by inch. The areas around the tents, the tall grass and undergrowth, rocks, and even latrines were searched, then searched again. Slowly, the Scouts entered their tents, zipped the doors, crawled into the sleeping bags, then waited for the sounds of serpents creeping toward them across the wet grass. When things were perfectly quiet and still, some bozo in the Warthog section let loose with a loud “Hisssss,” and this seemed funny to a few.
For the first time in his scouting career, Theo just wanted to go home.
Chapter 10
The rain began before dawn, and by sunrise everything was soaked. As well-trained Scouts, they were prepared for bad weather, but the cold wind and mud took most of the fun out of camping. Usually, on Sunday morning, the Major led the troop on a short hike to some spot with a beautiful view where he conducted a chapel service. He wasn’t a preacher or a minister and did not require all Scouts to attend. He was, though, a wise man with a deep faith in God and a true admiration for what He created here on Earth. Theo always enjoyed these hilltop chapel services, which he found far more meaningful than those conducted indoors in a real church. But with the rain falling, the Major decided to skip chapel, hurry up with breakfast, and break camp.
By 10:00 a.m., the old green bus was loaded and moving slowly away from Enid Point, inching uphill with its tires spinning in the mud. It eventually made it to a paved road and everyone relaxed. As it gained speed and began humming down the road, many of the Scouts closed their eyes and drifted away. During the night, most had slept on and off. When they managed to fall asleep they dreamed of monstrous vipers with sharp fangs dripping with deadly venom, and when they were awake they could practically hear the snakes out there, just beyond their tents. Now, in the safety of their bus and headed home, they were suddenly overcome with fatigue.
The weather turned even worse. Traffic was slow and they passed two serious auto accidents as they crept toward Strattenburg. The two-hour drive became four, and the Scouts grew tired of the bus. When it crossed the Yancey River and rolled into downtown, they let out a cheer. At the VFW, they unloaded their muddy gear and made plans to clean it the following afternoon.
By 3:00 p.m., Theo was home. Fresh from a long shower, he sat with Judge in the den and ate chicken noodle soup while his father read the Sunday newspaper and his mother flipped through a novel.
The Major flatly refused to allow his Scouts to take their cell phones and laptops on camping trips. Camping was a great getaway, an outdoor adventure far from most of modern civilization, and he didn’t want to ruin things by t
he parents getting hourly updates on everything the Scouts were doing. Nor did the Major tolerate pushy parents who made demands and wanted special treatment for their unique little boys.
So, Theo’s parents had not heard the news about the great snakebite. After he finished eating, and Judge was licking the bowl, Theo told them the story.
His mother was horrified, while his father found it amusing. They didn’t know Percy or his parents, and Theo did a fine job of describing what a misfit the kid really was. He went on to tell about his late-night meeting with the Major, and ended it all with the news that he was being suspended for two months as the leader of the Falcon Patrol.
“That’s absurd,” his mother said. His father seemed to agree. For half an hour they discussed, and often debated, the actions taken by Theo and the decision made by the Major. At one point, Theo announced, “I’m thinking about quitting scouting.”
Both parents went silent.
Theo continued: “The Major thinks a Scout patrol is just like a Marine unit where everyone follows orders perfectly. Doesn’t work that way. We’re not that disciplined. I can’t bark orders and boss people around. Nothing I could’ve said or done would’ve kept Percy away from that snake. I think the punishment is too harsh and unfair.”
“I agree,” said his mother.
“Maybe so,” said his father, “but quitting seems to be an overreaction. You love scouting, Theo. You’re on the fast track to becoming an Eagle Scout. Seems a shame to throw it all away because of one incident.”
“Your father is right, Theo. Quitting is not the answer. Life is not fair, and you can’t quit every time something unfair happens to you.”
“But I didn’t do anything wrong,” Theo protested. “The entire event happened in a matter of seconds. I couldn’t have prevented it.”
“So what?” his father said. “Your scoutmaster thinks otherwise. He’s the leader, the boss, a man you happen to admire greatly and a man who thinks a lot of you. You can’t convince me Major Ludwig would ever be unfair to you, Theo. Or to anyone else for that matter.”
His mother added, “Theo, you said yourself many times that your troop is lucky to have such a great scoutmaster. This time you disagree with him. He’s responsible for forty or so kids away from home during a long weekend. That’s an enormous responsibility, and Major Ludwig does it every month. That’s a lot of pressure on anyone. Now, a kid got hurt, and when something goes wrong the boss is ultimately responsible. Percy’s parents will blame the Major, the whole troop, and probably the entire Boy Scouts of America.”
“They’ll probably sue,” Mr. Boone managed to insert.
Mrs. Boone continued, “Think about the next time, Theo. The next time a group of Scouts is hiking through the woods and they come upon a poisonous snake. They’ll remember this episode. The patrol leaders will be quick to retreat, and maybe no one will get hurt.”
To which Theo responded, “Or maybe it’ll be Percy again and he’ll get tangled up with another snake.”
Mr. Boone lifted his newspaper as if he needed to continue reading it. “Quitting is not the answer, Theo. Hang in there, get tough, double up on your merit badge work, and show the Major you can take the punishment.” And with that he disappeared behind the sports section.
Mrs. Boone was a bit more sympathetic, but not much. She said, “If you quit, Theo, you will regret it for the rest of your life. You’re only young once, and there’s only one chance to succeed in scouting. It’s been great fun until now, very rewarding, so don’t let one bad episode ruin everything. Your father and I will be sorely disappointed if you drop out.”
Theo was often amazed at how other kids’ parents were so quick to butt in and cause trouble. They sent e-mails to teachers at school complaining about this and that. They harassed coaches after practices and even after games if so-and-so didn’t play enough. They marched into Mrs. Gladwell’s office unannounced and defended their kids when their kids were clearly wrong. They threatened to sue if so-and-so got cut from the team, or excluded from the school play, or didn’t make the cheerleading squad.
At the moment, though, he sort of wished his own parents could show a little more support. Now they were both reading. Judge had a full stomach and was asleep with his tongue hanging out. No one wanted to listen to Theo, so he went upstairs to kill time on his laptop.
* * *
Monday morning, and Theo was not excited about starting another week of school, and with good reason. By the time he sat at his desk in Mr. Mount’s homeroom at 8:40, he had already been asked a dozen times about the great snakebite.
Percy’s mother had evidently taken a photo of her poor child as he lay wounded in a hospital bed over in Knottsburg. The photo captured Percy’s smiling and goofy face, but the center point was his bare, swollen leg. And it was really puffed up. Like all smart people who want to share their private lives with the world, his mother then posted the photo on Percy’s Facebook page, and she, or someone, added a brief story describing how the brave Scout had gotten himself tangled up with an “eight-foot copperhead” and its “jagged” fangs.
Of course, no blame whatsoever was laid on Percy. No, sir. An “unidentified” member of the Falcon Patrol was accused of shoving and tripping the poor boy in such a manner as to make him fall directly upon the snake, who was further described as “unusually aggressive.” Reading the story, one easily got the impression that Percy had been minding his own business and hardly aware that a snake was nearby.
The photo was posted Sunday night while Theo was reading a book and ignoring his laptop. By Monday morning, it looked as though he was the only kid in school who hadn’t seen it. The story dominated all gossip in the hallways and homerooms, and by the time the bell rang for first period, there were rumors that poor Percy might lose a leg.
He was becoming a legend. Out of a school with 320 students, he was the only kid who’d ever been bitten by a poisonous snake. Percy Dixon was now famous, and