Ch.4: Origin of the Grim Reaper
While having lunch (all on Jake much to Pythor's annoyance), Pam and her companions told Jake and Rango about their reason for coming here: who they are; where they're from; and their quest for the hawk feather. Sure, the two of them wouldn't have believed them except for two things. One, Jake can tell when one's lying, and they're certainly not lying. And two, how else would you explain a human and two snakes being the same size as the town's critters instead of giant size?
"So you came here hoping that Jake here would shoot down a hawk for its feather for some cure?" asked Rango, taking a sip of his cactus juice.
"That's right," Pam answered. "I know it's dangerous, Jake, but…we need that feather to make the cure for Garmadon. It's for his son Lloyd; I'm sure you must know what it's like."
Yeah, right, Pythor thought to himself as he took a small bite of his biscuit.
"I do as a matter of fact, Pam," Jake said, bringing his rattle up to his coils to look down at it. "I had a father once…my girl Old Scythe is all I have left to remember him by now." This caught Pythor's interest, and he turned to the larger snake with confusion.
"Why do you say that?"
"It was pretty long time ago," he answered with a sigh, "back when I was just startin' out as a teenager. My mother just had a baby girl, and I was asked to be the one to name her. But 'fore I could come up with one, a hawk attacked our home."
"Ai carumba!" Savio gasped, dropping his fork with a bit of mashed potatoes on it. "Are you serious?"
"Yeah, 'n' my father tried to fight 'im off," Jake answered, not looking up from his gun. "He was the best gunslinger I've know; he had his rattler replaced with a gun so as to protect the loved ones around 'im. He fought back against the hawk to protect us, and all I could do for him was protect my mother 'n' sister like he asked me to. We hide in a locked room until the fight was over. When it was, the hawk flew off like the coward like he is, his eye taken out from my father's venomous fang."
"What about your dad?" Pam asked, although she might have a pretty good idea what the answer will be. She felt she was right when Jake winced in reply.
"He…he wasn't so lucky. Cursed monster did a serious number on 'im; practically ripped his gun clean off his tail like cooked pasta. Before he died, I vowed to follow in his coil tracks 'n' become a gunslinger myself. After he passed away, I had that gun replace my rattle to commemorate his memory, and I've kept on practicing with her until I've handled her as well as he had.
"But things got worse after he left us. After his death, my mother, my sister whom I've named Glidin' Gold, and myself stayed with some Native American friends of my parents; that's where I trained with my father's gun. Although the chief took care of us like a second father, some of the males in the tribe would try to have their way with Mother and Glidin' Gold, forcing me to try 'n' kill 'em myself. I remember this one punk like Bill who tried to…ya know…to Glidin' Gold. Chief and I stopped 'im, and he had me kill 'im as a death sentence…for harming the family of a late friend…"
"Is that why you followed the path of an outlaw," Pythor asked in awe, "and why you came to be the Grim Reaper of the Old West?" Pain shot through his heart when Jake nodded in answer. The poor rattler had it rough as a teenager. The Snake King even regretted dumping that spittoon on him despite his jealousy towards him over Pam's affections. Sure, he was making moves on her, but…still!
"I'm so sorry, Jake," Pam said to him softly, placing a comforting hand on his rattle that made Pythor wince with regretful pain again. "I understand if you don't—"
"No, I have my fears now," Jake said firmly. "Even though hawk eat snakes, I'm ain't no kid no more to be scared of 'im. Somethin' my dad would've wanted."
"Well, if yer goin' out there 'n' doin' somethin' crazy, Jake," Rango said to him firmly, "then I'm puttin' together a posse to back ya up." Jake then gave the chameleon a firm glare.
"Yer not draggin' yer girlfriend into this."
"Don't worry; Beans is really good with a rifle." Jake sighed with a groan.
"Fine, but if she gets into one of her freeze spells, I'm not getting' blamed for her gettin' hurt." The others blinked at the two "brothers" in reply.
"Beans?" asked Pythor. Rango shrugged with a slight chuckle.
"Her daddy liked his baked beans."
"Thank goodness he didn't name her Asparagus," Savio muttered to himself.
"Savio!" Pythor and Pam snapped at him simultaneously. After the boa winced at their scolding, the girl turned to Jake hopefully.
"So you'll help us?" Jake smiled at her kindly.
"For you, darlin', I'd slither into the darkest part o' the Black Pit 'n' back out again without so much as breakin' a sweat." Pam smiled at these words.
"Oh, thank you, Jake," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck. "You're the best." Pythor felt pain shoot through his heart at the sight of his angel embracing another snake.
"Yes…the best…"