Part 18

[A/N: Holidays. Audience members gather around the secret, stone fireplace, ancient in its placement, but new in its reach, wrapped warmly in wool blankets gathered at hips and shoulders, and sit comfortably cross legged on wide, squared pillows before the reader. A small, winter chill is in the air, but strangers, from far off lands, gladly nudge each other as they wait, many with satisfied, filled stomachs from recent feasts. It's such a nice peace now, isn't it? A few nod, sleepily, for that seems the natural contentment and mood of this place. A story before invariable bedtime, though time is fluid and wanders here. Good, the reader smiles pleasurably, gently. I'm so very happy you could all make it. We can start.]

The early, bright, desert morning squinted through frequent, glistening dust clouds as Marie Schrader's black Bentley purred along route 66's old, pitted road. Luxury tires grinding, she pulled up before an ancient, wood frame long house that was melting in the sun. A new sign in green and white marked its reason for being over the splintering entrance. "Exotic Pets!" it read excitedly. New Mexico's warm, dry climate lent itself to an old craze along the West Coast borders. Artillery was always popular here, but so were foreign, dangerous animals imported from exhilarating parts unknown and of more status than the neighbor's mere Labrador dog or even pit bull. She pulled open the protesting screen door, knocked on the peeling wood beneath, heard as someone scrambled behind the facade. She had called ahead first, wanted to make sure the proprietor had the right goods, and so she was not unexpected. A man with a grey and white beard peeped at her though filmy, once white curtains, smiled dryly, and cracked open the door for her, superfluous bell tolling overhead.

"Hi Miss!" said the tall, lean, friendly older man, "you sure did sound pretty over the phone, and here you are, not disappointing!" Marie smiled, thanked the man as he ushered her in, clomped onto the yielding, sagging floorboards in her low heeled, Paciotti shoes. The place smelled, though she couldn't exactly place it, like souring milk and decaying meat. She was sure there was a large population of rats here, not necessarily roaming around, but a frozen, useful crowding nonetheless. Maybe it was just the processed remains, a sharp, dung and graphite smell that wafted pass her nostrils. She held her hand up to her mouth, quickly took it down when she looked at him through the sides of her tearing eyes. He didn't seem to notice as he happily waved to the cages and wires along every wall, some a few aisles deep, of the house.

"Yes, Miss, I have some collection, don't I?" He smiled, a few tobacco stained, cracked teeth showing. "What exactly were you looking for, for your husband?"

"Um, well, when he talked about it, he said he always wanted something really… macho. Something he could show off to the guys and make them squirm. I'm not sure what would be good?"

"Ah, he doesn't know about it, huh? You want to surprise him? Birthday?"

"Well, yes, we are certainly going to celebrate a memorable event." She walked over to a nearby, large cage. It had a white and watery yellow snake in it, and its body was as thick as her thigh.

"That's Molly, she's some prize, isn't she? Molly's an albino boa constrictor, very rare and very beautiful. She's up to 14 feet long, and she's just eaten. I don't think you and I could pick her up. You couldn't take her home today if you wanted to give your husband his gift right away. Oh, did you have your cage set up yet? I can help with those supplies too."

"I don't have anything set up yet, and Molly's too big. She sure would have people fidgeting, though. She's beautiful." Marie backed up from the cage when the snake nosed over to her, tongue flicking.

"Fidget is a good word. That's how they eat their prey, you know, they crush them first. Let the guys see her with a big, jack rabbit and they'll be pretty impressed. Actually, you know, she could take down a goat, even bigger, but people are more comfortable if they just feed her a few, smaller meals. A goat would last her 10 months, but even a few big rabbits or other things would last a couple. You have to be really careful with them when they are hungry. You have to make sure they've eaten enough."

"Maybe something smaller?" Marie asked.

"Well, this little guy is very exotic, and pretty macho despite his size."

Marie looked at a slim, black and yellow banded snake resting on a small piece or coral in a water filled tank. It had a very small, sharp, pointed black head that seemed to disappear into its wider body. The small snake didn't look very dangerous, and followed her gaze as she walked around the tank. "Is it a baby?"

"Well, it's a young 'un, but they don't get that big. Depends how many fish you feed it, most reptiles are like that. They get bigger the more you give it. This one's not a big eater, yet. Sea snakes look really nice in a tank, especially if you fill it with coral and water plants and other decorations. You can just put cheap goldfish in with them, and places to hide, and they are happy."

"They don't come out of the water a lot, if I forgot to leave the lid on or something?"

"Not so much, Ma'am, they want water. They're not comfortable dry. Most don't even have scales and live in deep seas. They like hanging out in the coral or any stone or plastic cave you give them, or in among the plants. On dry land they would scrape themselves up too much moving over surfaces. In water they hardly weigh anything. And they're shy."

"What makes them so macho, then?" She was puzzled why he showed her such a cute snake. On the phone, he said he was sure he could find something perfect for her, something that would make the others say Hank was crazy for keeping such a pet around. Something dangerous.

"This is one of the most poisonous snakes in the world. Some would argue it is the most poisonous. That little, sharp head holds enough shit to kill more than 1800 people in 30 minutes. I keep the anti-venoms around, but this one isn't likely to bite you that quickly." At that, the older man reached into a nearby tank of feeder goldfish. He was able to snag a one inch, fat one by the tail and plunged his hand into the snake's tank, just a few inches from its diminutive head. The snake was very alert, the proprietor must have realized it was hungry, maybe even set up this show for her. It flicked its mouth open in a quick yawn, getting it's muscles ready for the slippery prey. He had done this before, and his semi-closed fist released the fish into the water. It wasn't even a second - a flash of gold and black just two inches from the man's hand, and the snake had already retracted with the wriggling goldfish in its jaws. The animal didn't struggle for long, was already limp by the time Marie realized what she had just seen.

"Yeah, they need that powerful poison because they can't hold onto the fish for long, fish scales are slimy and real slick. Also, their teeth are really tiny, just enough to get through a scale and not much more. If you were to wear thicker gloves while handling it, you'd be more or less okay." The man pulled his hand out of the water, flicked it a few times and dried it on his shirt. "They are also really accurate and want to save their poison for little fish. They don't like biting big animals unless you really abuse them or something, and then most times they don't inject you with the venom. They need the stuff to eat, so why waste it on you? They rather just swim away or hide. The fun part comes in when you tell everyone how many people it can kill before you plunge your hand into the water. A real party pleaser." He grinned.

Marie liked the snake, very much, but couldn't think how she could really get to the poison. She would be no good at "milking" such a small snake, and she didn't think it could survive in a bag of water in her purse, besides the obvious questions that would arise when it was discovered. She could cut off its head, and get to the poison sacs that way, and that was what she had been planning. It would be an easier snake to handle. She didn't feel like she could do it when she was looking at the little thing. Then she thought about White.

"Yes, it is really cute," she said to the man.

"Oh, you don't mind cute? Here's something you both might like, then. Something a little more subtle, but I think, just fantastic." He walked further to a corner of the room, to a little tank under a sunny window. There were lots of fern-like plants in this tank, long, thin leaves rubbing against the clear lid, and brightly colored objects in it amongst the green as well. They seemed to be moving, skipping in short bursts over objects in the glossy, semi-watery tank.

"What are those?" she asked as she saw the gleaming, vibrantly colored, jewel like little frogs hopping around the mossy soil.

"Oh, I just love these. I know I have a lot of snakes and reptiles, bats and spiders around that make people shiver when they see them, most of them very dangerous and exciting. But these guys are special. They are so beautiful, you just want to hold them, play with them, release them in your living room. They are so deadly, though, the most poisonous, jeweled creatures in the world."

Marie looked at the small tank. The little animals therein were less than two inches long, some a little bigger, their little legs and long toes tucked beneath them as their enormous eyes looked at her. Maybe they weren't staring at her, per se, but nothing seemed to escape their attention. They also seemed fearless, were so nonchalant in the presence of giants around them. They calmly hoped around their tanks, ate live mealworms in a dish, hung out on the stems of the delicate plants, and sometimes on the sides of the glass. That was one she was staring at now, a beautiful, shiny, blue legged and yellow bodied creature with black spots all along it. A black and white one was underneath it that had bright, magenta spots along its head and back. A third was completely orange with little black circles rimming its eyes and was eating a wayward cricket it had found. A fourth was candy-caned red and white. Their colors shined like the iridescence of peacock feathers, and they seemed to know that they were stunning, and lethal.

"So what makes them so poisonous?" She had already fallen in love with the glistening, little frogs.

"These guys? Nothing. But in the wild, traditional forest hunters rub spears and darts along their backs to bring down big prey in just a few seconds. That's why they are called Dart Frogs."

"What do you mean these guys aren't toxic?" Marie was puzzled, and annoyed, she thought she had found just the right device, and now he was taking it away from her.

"These little guys were either raised by other enthusiasts, or have lost their poison long ago. When they are taken away from their original environments, they no longer have access to the insects that help make them fatal. They have to continuously eat certain bugs that have the compounds in them, and they nurture and pass along those poisons. Their skin color actually shows how much anti-venom they naturally have in them to combat the toxin. Each generation gets brighter and stronger and can take more poison. The more intense the color, the more they can take, and give."

"Is there an antidote to them?" Marie had gotten down on one knee on the dirty floor, stared at her jeweled frogs.

"No. No antidote. There's some rumors that a couple of things might help, but they're not the type of things people have on hand. And it works too fast even if there was a real antidote. Instant heart attack. It's a…" the man couldn't remember the word or how to pronounce it. "It works along the nerves, somehow. I just know you die right fast." He looked down at his tank. "These guys are still beautiful, even if they aren't poisonous. It's what they represent that makes them incredible."

"My husband would call them fakes."

"Oh, he's like that, that kind, is he? The man had been looking at her closely all along, but now took in the expensive handbag, the precious shoes, remembered the quick glance he had of her luxury car. "Well, maybe I have One that he wouldn't dare call fake. It arrived not very long ago, and is still very toxic. It's part of my personal collection. But it's really dangerous, and illegal, and costly. I would have to instruct you in a lot of things."

"I can pay it. I want to get my husband something he would want. It's a very exceptional occasion."

He looked her up and down again. Marie got up from her knee, straightened out her nice, silk skirt, looked at him and smiled widely. "It's going to be very special. He would love these frogs."

"You already do, don't you?" He smiled back, pleased.

"Yes, I really do."