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Somewhere near Scottsville, WV—2009
Ron turned to face the blond holding the copperhead and slowly reached out his right hand in her direction, the palm facing upward, beckoning her to give him the snake. Winona gasped, and as she watched, horrified, from a distance, the girl carefully laid the serpent across the fleshy part of Ron’s hand, and the copperhead settled comfortably into its new surroundings. Winona methodically made her way through the small crowd toward her partner, her breathing measured and shallow.
As she approached him, Ron smiled ever so slightly, as if amused. Winona found nothing pleasurable in watching her man handle the deadly serpent. What had she been thinking? As if in silent response, Ron’s smile grew even wider, and he permitted himself to make eye contact with Winona’s wide-open, big brown eyes. For just a second, Winona detected that same sensation she felt when she and Ron first met; there was a rush of blood to her cheeks, and a flash of desire that moistened her femininity. In spite of the air temperature that hovered in the mid-eighties, she shivered uncontrollably, and had to wrap her arms around her shoulders to maintain control of her body.
Ron now held the snake in both of his outstretched hands; its full length of nearly four feet was distributed evenly between them, and it appeared to be almost asleep. The music had grown more intense, and the foot stomping and shouting was even louder. An elderly man with sparse white hair and even less in the way of teeth approached Ron and lifted the snake from Ron’s hands, laying the serpent across his own shoulders in a single motion. Ron collapsed to the ground. In an instant, Winona was by his side, hugging him and whispering in his ear, “It’s good, Ron. It’s good. You were wonderful.”
For his part, Ron appeared oblivious, with sweat pouring down his face, and his lips moving silently, his eyes glazed and unseeing. She had never seen him like this before. Maybe he could do this. They’d make a fortune, she thought.
Ron stirred to life. “Did you see me?” he asked Winona. “Did you see me?” She thought he was like a small child, showing off his school project on Parents Night. “Yes, baby,” she said. “I saw you. I saw you.” Together, they made their way to the rear of the barn.
As the two huddled together and watched, the serpents were returned to their cage. Immediately, several young people carrying waste baskets moved through the crowd soliciting donations, many of which appeared to be quite generous. When they had finished the collection, they brought the overflowing containers to Father James, who disappeared with them out the side door of the barn. In a few minutes, he returned, picked up the box of snakes, and departed. Apparently, that signaled the end of the service, for immediately folks started filing out the front door of the barn.
Winona could hear the sound of car and truck engines being started, along with the echo of slamming doors and shouted goodbyes. One by one, the cars and pickups disappeared into the night, until at last Ron and Winona were completely alone inside the barn. Without warning, all the lights went out, and the interior of the barn went dark, so the pair stepped outside into a light rain, with Winona unsure what they should do next.
Next, the exterior lights were extinguished, and Ron and Winona were left standing with just the glow from the inside of the farmhouse illuminating the immediate area. They approached the house, climbed the two steps to the front porch, and Ron knocked gently on the wooden screen door. Winona held her breath, unsure of what to expect. Presently, the main door opened inward, revealing the preacher, clad in a white terrycloth robe. To her great surprise, Winona detected the sweet smell of marijuana smoke emanating from the tightly wrapped joint hanging loosely from Father James’ lower lip. The aroma was one that she had come to know early in her life, and it signaled “welcome.”
“So,” said Father James, “I see I’ve piqued your curiosity. Well, don’t just stand there. Come on in.”
Winona waited for Ron to take the first step, and then followed him inside. She fully expected to find snakes slithering over the floor. Instead, the interior of the house was more spacious and far more ornate than she could have expected. The living room area was nicely appointed. High-quality upholstery adorned the chairs and sofas, and rich brass hinges and handles accented the accompanying furniture. Thick carpeting covered the floor. It was obvious to her that the preacher’s curious form of religion was not only rewarding spiritually, but materially as well.
“Was this your first time with the snakes?” asked Father James, offering the freshly lit joint first to Winona who declined, and then to Ron, who accepted eagerly.
“Uh huh,” managed Ron through tightly clenched lips. He had inhaled the contents of the marijuana cigarette deeply into his lungs, and after holding the pungent smoke for as long as possible, slowly exhaled, filling the space around him with the depleted remains. He offered the joint to Winona, who, this time, unable to resist the familiar aroma, accepted it. Old habits were hard to break, she thought.
“It’s not often that a first timer handles the snakes,” observed Father James. “Had you planned to do it?”
“Not really,” replied Ron. “Actually, the whole thing was Winona’s idea. Wasn’t it, baby?”
Realizing that no introductions had been made, Winona extended her hand toward the preacher. “I’m sorry,” she offered. “I’m Winona. He’s Ron. We heard about you from a friend.”
“Father James,” said the preacher. “Nice to meet you both.”
With the formalities out of the way, the three of them found seats around the small coffee table, and conversation began in earnest, a freshly lighted joint traveling smoothly among them as they took turns speaking. Ron told Father James about his own “church,” and his desire to begin using serpents to attract more attendees.
“It’s not that simple,” said Father James. “You’ll have to be very careful. The law is doing its best to shut us down. They don’t understand it, so they feel obligated to keep us from doing it. But, as long as there are believers, we’ll be out there providing them with what they need.”
Ron and Winona exchanged furtive glances. Maybe this was not for them after all, she thought.
“Of course, it helps if you’re a believer,” said Father James. “Do you believe, brother?”
Ron glanced at Winona before responding. “I think I do.”
It was the second time that evening that he had caught her by surprise.
“Something came over me tonight,” he continued. “I can’t explain it. It was as if nothing could hurt me. It was as though I’d been born for this.” Winona was bowled over. She had only known Ron for six months, but she sensed he was truly sincere. Never mind, she thought, so much the better. It could only help the “act.”
Father James had picked up his Bible, and opened it to a page whose corners were dog-eared from use. He passed the book to Ron, indicating a highlighted passage with a finger stained by nicotine. “Read that. Maybe it’ll make sense to you.”
Ron started reading quietly to himself, moving his lips ever so slightly as went along. Winona rolled her eyes and pretended to pay attention. At last, he was ready. “Listen to this, Winona,” he said. “Listen.”
“And these signs shall follow them that believe,” read Ron. “In my name shall they cast out devils; they shall speak with new tongues.”
Father James was smiling his approval. Winona sat quietly, seeing dollar signs in her mind’s eye.
“They shall take up serpents; and if they drink any deadly thing, it shall not hurt them,” continued Ron. “They shall lay hands on the sick, and they shall recover.” He closed the book and his eyes, remaining silent for several minutes. Winona had never seen him so serious.
“Well,” she said at last, “that’s that, I guess.”
Ron said nothing. Neither did the preacher.
“So...uh...Ron,” said Winona. “What do you think? Want to give it a try?”
Father James chuckled at her impertinence.
“When do you meet again?” asked Ron. “I’d like to be sure.”
“Next week. Same time.”
“I’ll be there,” said Ron. “Won’t we, Winona?”
“Oh, yeah,” she replied. “We’ll be there.”
And they were—every week for the next month.