my rattlesnake bride

my favorite misty

Originally uploaded by jayfherron.

I had a friend some years ago who studied snakes. His facination with snakes was’nt just a simple thing-he was interested in what he refered to as ‘hot snakes’.
He made money collecting venom-milking the snakes poison into a jar for sale to whoever makes the anti-venom….he’d take one of these things out of thier space,in most cases a carboy was thier home,and he had these special jars that he’d put their fangs into and they would react and release the deadly poison.
I cannot explain how I can describe my friends rattlesnakes as cute-in all crazy things to say is that even in the wild a diamondback rattler is really quite cute. You just have to observe it from the distance-because they are’nt that cute.
It just is something about their heads and how they kind of poke them up to get a look at whats around-and at the sense of any threat those rattles start-but they start slower than what you ever see on the nature shows…a sort of gentle shooshing sound at first-the slight not really concerned warning they give. Oddly-as dangerous as a diamondback can be they are really quite safe if you know how to act around one.
That was the problem with Misty.
The day I met her she was living in her car with her two kids-they’d been traveling from way up in Minnesota and ended up on a section of a farm near here.
I learned about this womans situation and because I was planning to embark on a long trucking trip I offered this woman my home to serve us both-to protect my things and to offer shelter.
The first was quite a commotion. One never thinks into the future when trying to help someone else-not always knowing the consequence of what is about to be. Misty moved her car to my place and she and her kids settled in with out much ado because they had only a few trash bags filled with clothes hastly packed in clumps in these sacks.
I might have heard the rattle softly making its sound but I had fallen in love so quickly that I must have not paid any attention.
Misty told me and my friends she had cancer and had about six months to live…and she had fled their home and her husband in the north so she could spend her last living days alone with her children.
On a quick listen-absorbing all that about cancer…it all rang to make sense-she had added that her husband was a bit on the touchie side and liked to hit her alot and she really convinced all of us she was a poor helpless sad sick woman.
Many of us had given our blood at the medical center to add to the national data base to find out if we had compatable blood cells to donate bone marrow( all based on her information ) to her to keep her alive-but her name was’nt on any registry and eventually it all came to us clearer and clearer as the days and weeks went by
this was one clever lier…and by then we were able to include theif to her resume becuase with in weeks of her being in my house things started arriving that had never been there before and certainly could’nt have come in the car with them but yet she had a way of getting you to believe it had. Those things came to truth when the sherrifs office came to arrest her for burgleling a neighbors house….we were stunned.
For awhile I had postponed the long hauls and took a job with a local outfit hauling timber-this decision because of her ‘cancer’ and the collection of stories she built around that and so it was to be my duty to be there when she died to attend to her childrens future.
Then one day I came home from work and the kids were gone. She sent them back to their dads…???
Then things went from fast forward into overdrive.
Theres bunches and bunches I can tell about the days leading up to her sending the children home. Standing in a tornado would be easier than trying to describe that part of time.She had me so convinced that I actually married her so that we could do the legal thing for me to adopt her kids so they’d have a home when she passed on-and then two days later the kids are gone.
So-we decided to get in a long haul truck and go….and go we did!
I was hopeful that getting away from our area things would improve…Misty had taken a friend at home that could’ve been more sinister if they had tried and those two would stay up all night and smooth the edges off a gallon of whiskey,why not she’s say? I’m going to die anyway!
I was a deer with my eyes in the headlights. I had fallen in love with her so badly that I sucked it in and believed everything-cancer and her defense that the stolen property was really hers and the cops were mistaken-and that she needed to drink to forget she was going to die…and her friend,well-that person was really a scarey little lady too-very rough individual that made anyone around her uncomfortable.
So-the highway was the answer and off we went. And it was great a lot of the time. Misty was with out a doubt an intelligent person-she had a mind but was’nt able to percieve that she could use it better for good could the way she was useing it.
There are too many stories to tell about life with Misty-but one of them is about the night in Atlanta while we were parked in the Petro truck stop for an over night there.
About midnight she disappears-gone…vanished,and in the deepest part of one of the worse neighborhoods in Atlanta. I searched that truck stop all night,until I found the note-a small tidbit of paper stuck into the drivers door of our rig….a two word adios-GoodBye!
She was gone a better part of three months-no word,nothing…the outfit I was driving for made sure I had the Atlanta police fill out a report-which they did and ever so often I’d get a message to call them to talk about a new Jane Doe they had at the morgue there.
Then-as swift as she was gone she turned up at her sisters house in New Hampshire and wanted to return to the trucking life with me. So that happened.
About two weeks went by and Misty’s sister sent us a message to get in touch-she was angry about what Misty had done there….a small town near Keene-a real small town. Misty told the owners of an Inn there where she had gotten a job-that her son had been kcked by a horse and was in critical condition in the Mayo Clinic in Minnesota and he was’nt expected to live. The owners of the Inn gave her a few hundred bucks to get to her son ( all of this a lie-of course) but in turn she hooked back up with me.
The sister in New Hampshire had learned the owners of the Inn were planning a benifit to raise money for this kid-and so the sister goes to inquire and everyone is dumbfounded to learn that Misty had lied about this tragic thing that could’ve-but did’nt happen.
It was a final reward when I had my stroke Misty fangdangled money from my insurence policy and went around the area here and bounced a few hundred dollars in bad checks-took the car…and left me stranded out here in the woods with no money-no source of money…no way to go use the money-she left me high and dry.
That was almost 9 years ago. I have’nt seen her since.

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