Lunch at the Thai place went well. Aziraphale enjoyed his meal, even though he wasn't quite sure what he was eating. It was delicious, whatever it was. He had let Crowley order for him.
"Oh, before I forget." Crowley passed over a sheet of paper with SNAKE FAST FACTS at the top in bold letters. "Just a few notes for the presentation."
"You never told me why you decided to do this thing."
"Kids like snakes. They'll get to see one, up close and personal, for two hours a week. The customers who don't like snakes can stay away for those two hours; no harm done."
Aziraphale blinked. "This will be a weekly thing, then?"
"If that's all right with you."
"And you don't mind?"
"To tell the truth, I could use some snake time. A little out of practice, if you know what I mean."
A woman who was passing overheard this, jumped to entirely the wrong conclusion, and glared at them both. Aziraphale tried to give her an apologetic smile, but Crowley just ignored her.
"Well, then. We should get back to the shop and get things set up. Probably quite a crowd gathered by now." It was a quarter till two. "We'll go in the back way so no one sees us."
"Best not to spoil the illusion," the demon agreed.
There was indeed a small crowd gathered outside the bookshop, which had only happened once in all the years of its existence: that glorious day in 1945 when Mr. A. Zachariah Fell[1] had been listening to the radio with the shop door open to let in the breeze, and an announcer broke in to proclaim the good news that the war was finally over. There had been dancing in the streets on that day.
In contrast, this crowd was less jubilant and more expectant. They pressed up against the front window, trying to catch a glimpse of the promised reptile, but the curtains blocked any view.
Those who stood with their ears pressed to the door heard voices, although they couldn't make out the words. One of them was clearly Mr. Fell. The other must be the friend who was bringing the snake. After a moment, the voices ceased. The clock chimed twice.
And the door was unlocked and flung wide.
"Come in, come in!" Aziraphale beckoned. He directed the crowd into the main area of the shop, where there stood a tall object under a dark covering. "Thank you all for coming. In just a moment, you'll get to meet our new friend, but first let me tell you a bit about him. Um . . ." The pause was more for effect than because he'd forgotten the next bit of his speech. He had already memorized the Snake Facts handout on the ride over. "Since the beginning of time[2], mankind has had an uneasy relationship with the serpent. Snakes are very misunderstood creatures. For example, only a small percentage are actually venomous. Some are constrictors, who kill their prey by squeezing them to death. Most are harmless to anything larger than a mouse. Have any of you ever actually seen a snake up close?"
A few hands went up. The young lady who had bought the Jane Austen book earlier half-raised her hand. "Yes, my dear?"
"Does it count if it's a dead snake?"
"That depends. Was it dead when you found it?"
"Yeah, it was squashed in the road."
"Oh, dear. Luckily, Crawly is not allowed to cross the road by himself. You will all get a chance to see him and even touch him, if you're gentle about it. He doesn't like rough play."
From under the canopy came a hissing that sounded almost like laughter.
"And now, without further ado . . . here's Crawly!"
Aziraphale whipped the cover off, revealing the large black snake coiled around a T-shaped wooden stand. He hadn't asked where the stand had come from; it had already been here when they arrived.
"Crawly is a red-bellied black snake, from southeastern Australia. He's a bit larger than the typical specimen, ranging from one to one and a half meters long, and they can mass up to ten kilos. They are venomous, but rarely attack humans unless provoked. He's very well-behaved, our boy, so you should have nothing to fear. In any case, I have a few vials of antivenom on hand if the worst should come to worst, but I assure you he's perfectly safe.
"Here's an interesting fact about red-bellied black snakes: they can swim. They live in wooded areas around ponds or streams, and have been known to stay submerged, waiting for prey, for as long as twenty minutes. They hibernate in the winter, but have been known to emerge on sunny days to soak up the warmth. Just like the rest of us, eh?
"And now, I'll open the floor to questions."
The boy who had been in earlier in search of Shakespeare spoke up. "What do they eat?"
"Mice, mostly. The local pet shop sells frozen feeder mice, if any of you are interested in keeping your own snakes. In the wild, they eat frogs and salamanders as well as small rodents."
A woman who had been in the shop once or twice raised her hand. "Is it legal to keep those as pets?"
"Absolutely. They're not endangered in the least. There's the usual paperwork involved in importing a pet, of course, but they're absolutely legal."
"Are they safe?" asked an older woman.
"Well, nothing is perfectly safe, but red-bellied black snakes don't usually attack humans unless they're provoked, as I said. When they feel threatened, they rear up, like cobras do, before striking. So if you ever see a snake that's holding his head up and hissing, back away slowly. He's warning you not to come any closer. You don't need to be afraid of him, but keep a respectful distance and don't bother him." Just like some book sellers, arrived in his head, and the angel looked over at Crawly, who was staring at him with what might almost be described as a smirk.
"Would anyone like to come up and say hello?" Aziraphale invited his audience.
Most of the adults hung back, but the children, particularly the youngest children, came forward eagerly. "One at a time, please. Let's not overwhelm him. You first, dear."
A little girl in a blue coat stepped forward and hesitantly reached out to stroke the snake's scales.
"That's good. Nice and easy. No, one direction, dear. It's a bit like rubbing a cat's fur the wrong way. It doesn't really hurt him, but he doesn't like it. Yes, just like that. All right, that's long enough. Everyone has to have a turn. Who's next?"
The meet and greet went on for some time, and thankfully reached the end of the line before Crawly lost patience. "All right, that's enough for today," Aziraphale said to the crowd. "Does anyone have any more questions before we call it a day?"
"Can we see him eat?" a teenage boy asked.
"I'm afraid not. He's already had his big meal of the day.[3] Snakes this size don't need to eat more than once every few days. It's a bit more frequent in the wild, but in captivity they don't need a lot of fussing over. They're quite easy to look after-as long as you don't let them loose."
"But he is loose," said a little girl. "He's right there."
"Ah, but I'm right here as well," Aziraphale pointed out. "He wouldn't dare try to get away with me watching him. Besides, where would he go?"
"I think Crawly's a dumb name," said a young man who was with the Jane Austen girl.
Crawly lifted his head and, apparently deciding he'd had enough, opened his jaws to let his fangs show.
"Down, boy." Aziraphale stroked the snake's head gently. "He actually came with the name, and I'm afraid I couldn't think of anything better. If you have suggestions, I'm willing to hear them. Another time. Let me put His Majesty away, and then I'll be back. In the meantime, feel free to have a look around."
He threw the cover over the stand with the snake still wrapped around it, and carried it through the shop and to the hidden staircase that led to his small apartment. Once through the door, he whipped off the canopy and said, "All clear."
There was a shimmering, a kind of full-body shiver, and then the snake became Crowley.
"Well," the demon said, "that was fun."
"Yes, it was, wasn't it? I wasn't sure I could say all that, in public. I was always terrible at public speaking. I preferred written reports to in-person because I always lost my train of thought when I was speaking to the . . . the other angels."
"It's different when you have an appreciative audience, isn't it?" Crowley picked up his jacket off the back of a chair and jingled his keys in the pocket. "Well, I'm off."
"What, so soon? Let's have a drink, at least."
"Nope. Lots to do for you-know-what."
"No," Aziraphale said. "I don't know what. Because you won't tell me!"
Crowley grinned. "But then it wouldn't be a surprise, would it? Don't bother calling tomorrow; I'll have my phone off."
"Exactly how involved is this surprise?"
"Still not telling! Ciao."
With that, the demon sauntered out the back door, whistling one of his favorite tunes. It was all loud and fast noise to Aziraphale. He sighed and went back downstairs to see if anyone wanted to buy anything.
Tomorrow he would just have to find ways to keep himself busy and not think about . . . that. Which was easier said than done. He'd just have to wait and see what this surprise turned out to be.
(A/N: Sorry this took so long. I hadn't meant for this to be so long, but it got away from me. Part 3 will be up soon!)
[1] Grandfather of the present Mr. Fell, according to those in the know.
[2] Well, nearly. The last six thousand years of it, anyway.
[3] This was true of the human form as well as the snake. Crowley was not fond of eating, didn't really need to, and generally avoided it unless he was out with Aziraphale.