Free Midnight Moonlight by V. J. Chambers

of experience with snakes—pet snakes, that is. She was certified to teach students from fifth grade to twelfth, so she’d had to divide her student teaching between middle school and high school. In her middle school position, she’d had to carry on the host teacher’s glorified show-and-tell exercise, because it had been established before she arrived and students were looking forward to it. But Calla had thought the entire idea too juvenile, even though the seventh graders had loved it. That was one of the reasons Calla had decided to teach high school. Middle schoolers were too young for her taste.
    At any rate, she had to keep up this show-and-tell exercise. (It hadn’t actually been called “Show and Tell.” The teacher had another name for it, but Calla couldn’t remember that now. Then the students were required to write about the activity afterward, so it was really all about writing according to the host teacher.) One of the boys had brought in a pet snake. She didn’t know what kind it had been, but it had been fairly calm. It certainly hadn’t hissed or bitten anyone.
    The students had wanted her to hold the snake. They’d gotten very, very excited about the prospect.
    She remembered the sounds of all of those seventh graders, clapping their hands and chanting, “Hold the snake . Hold the snake .”
    She tried to quiet them, but they wouldn’t be quieted. That was the most frightening thing about teaching, she realized. The moments in which she knew that any control she had over the students was an illusion. It was even more terrifying to see them organized like this, all saying the same thing and clapping in the same rhythm.
    When they began to stomp their feet as well, she relented, because she was frightened of what the teacher below her might think.
    So, she held the snake. She was surprised to find it cold and smooth. The scales were like polished sea shells. Holding the snake, she found that she wasn’t frightened of it at all. It was only an animal. She felt powerful, having faced down her natural aversion to the thing and conquered it.
    It didn’t mean that she went out and got a pet snake of her own, but it did mean that she found snakes more interesting. She even watched a few shows on the Discovery Channel about people catching venomous snakes, and she learned that they couldn’t open their mouths if they were pinched shut. She also watched the way those men approached the snakes from behind with their hooks and tongs. She found it somewhat fascinating.
    But she still wasn’t at all pleased by snakes, especially not in her house, and when she found the black snake, she screamed.
    The snake was curled up in the corner of the kitchen in a patch of sunlight, which she knew made sense because snakes were cold blooded and liked the warmth. She couldn’t tell how big it was, because it was all curled up, but it was pretty thick, over an inch in diameter. It was much bigger than the pet snake she’d held all those years ago when she was student teaching.
    It didn’t register her scream but stayed right there in the light, unmoving.
    Chad raced into the kitchen at the sound, however. “What?” he said, breathless.
    She pointed.
    “Oh,” said Chad, his voice high-pitched. He backed out of the kitchen. “It’s a snake.” He sounded like a frightened little boy.
    She peered at the snake. “It’s a black snake. I don’t think it will hurt us.”
    “You screamed.”
    “I was startled.”
    “Well… well…” His voice was a squeak. “I don’t know how we’re going to get it out. Maybe we should call someone. An exterminator, or… or…”
    Calla knew she shouldn’t fault him for his fear. They were married at that point, and she was meant to help him. If he was vulnerable, he was allowed to show that to her. Didn’t women always wish men would share their fears?
    But she couldn’t help it. She hated him in that moment. She hated him for being weak and scared and pitiful. She