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    Jello Boy Sheds His Skin
    Jello Boy Sheds His Skin
    Jello Boy Sheds His Skin
    Ebook64 pages58 minutes

    Jello Boy Sheds His Skin

    By Steve Fuller

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    About this ebook

    As Cuba and the United States argue over the fate of young refugee Elian Gonzalez, Lemonjello (le-MON-zhello) contends with the loss of his mother, his father's disturbed behavior, the tyranny of "Atilla the Hun" and his weird name. Support comes from unexpected sources, including Mazola the corn snake and "the tallest, biggest, meanest looking seventh grader anyone had ever seen." While Lemonjello's maturing nature leads him to enjoy visits to the local Retile Expo, he worries about his father's plan for Mazola and Elian the mouse. This story contains many references to snakes and other herps. It is written for twelve-year old boys and anyone who still remembers.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherBookBaby
    Release dateJun 13, 2013
    ISBN9781483500843
    Jello Boy Sheds His Skin

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      Book preview

      Jello Boy Sheds His Skin - Steve Fuller

      Fuller

      Mazola and the Snake Lady

      November 27, 1999

      Snakes are always smiling. Maybe there’s some joke they’ve been sharing for centuries, although I guess it wouldn’t be a knock-knock joke. Anyway, this particular snake’s smile seemed to say,You have nothing to fear. I first saw her coiled up on a table top at the reptile show in White Plains. She was too big for a deli cup and was just sitting there, loose in the display case. My Daddy had been going on about the pros and cons of each kind of snake we saw as we pushed through the crowds to check out every herp in the room. Back home, Julius Squeezer’s cage was empty and we were looking for a replacement.

      As we drove down Route 684 that morning I was content just to focus on my Gameboy while Daddy made driving his own adventure. He had been more than just angry since my mother left us four years ago, and he worked at staying that way. Daddy doesn’t go to church, but driving along, he kept calling out Jesus Christ as if he were riding shotgun in the front seat of the car. I’d learned not to look as Daddy wove between lanes and stared hard at other drivers he passed. Our car rides had also taught me lots of curses. Fuck you and the horse you rode in on, was one of my favorites. Hit a tree and die, always made me sad. I’d never seen Daddy actually hit anyone but you have to read his eyes carefully. He could give someone a You dirty bastard, when he was happy playing poker, or turn it into a declaration of war. He seemed to enjoy the art of arguing even more than being right.

      I didn’t really want to go on this trip, but there wasn’t much I liked to do in November and it was always good to get away from Attila. Being the way he was, my Daddy wouldn’t park in the regular lot for the County Center. He needed to be closer and somehow talked his way into the vendors’ parking lot, right behind the building. I would have stayed in the car, but he sort of needed me to go in. The line was out the door and down the steps. Daddy went to his usual trick. He led me past the crowd and explained to the lady in the ticket booth that because I was a special needs child, I couldn’t handle standing in line for all that time. She gave him a look of grave sympathy and smiled at me. As usual, his lie worked and in we went. And, as usual, the complaints from the crowd meant nothing to him.

      It was standing room only. All of these people to look at snakes? Daddy was pumped up from the start and I quickly became excited too. He had his eye on a baby Burmese python until he saw how big they grow. A Sonoran mountain kingsnake was beautiful but looked too wimpy to handle. It seemed as if we would never find the right snake to take home. That was okay because I was enjoying squeezing through the crowd. I had never been so near to so many ladies. Some of them even had tattoos and piercings. It was hard not to bump into them and easy to be so close.

      Then there was Mazola. We had seen other corn snakes, mostly hatchlings. But she was bigger and more beautiful. Her striking orange, red, and black colors made us stop. Check it out, Mon J: Okeetee Corn, female, ninety dollars. We don’t need any more girl trouble, Daddy joked, but this could be the one!

      The lady at the table said we could hold Mazola and handed her to Daddy. Back then I had never touched a snake. But if other kids there could do it, so could I. Of course Daddy didn’t wait for me to reach out. He just dumped her into my hands. That’s just the way he was back then. Being the king of ADHD, his motto was, Just do it.

      I didn’t drop her. She seemed to stare at me and then glided through my fingers, up my arm and started under my sleeve. I freaked. Take this fucking thing off me!

      A light slap from Daddy made me want to cry, but I didn’t. I had never cursed in front of grownups before, at least not loud enough to be heard. I guess Daddy didn’t know what a good teacher he was. It would take some time for me to get used to a snake crawling over my skin. The Snake Lady didn’t laugh at me. Smiling kindly, she gently lifted Mazola off of my arm and gave

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