Free Channel 20 Something by Amy Patrick Page B

am. Let me get all my gear together, and we can head out. So you’re good to go for the game today at one?”
    “Yes.”
    “Great. Because I think you’re gonna love it.” He gave me his sunshine smile, forcing me to battle an eruption of physical responses that were inappropriate for so many reasons.
    “Oh, I’ve been to lots of State games,” I said.
    “None like this one.” At my confused expression he said, “You’ll see what I mean. And don’t worry. I’m bringing everything we’ll need.”
    Aric refused to explain further, so I dropped it and we set out for the hospital. The administrator on duty gave us permission to film there as long as the patient agreed and we didn’t show any other patients on camera.
    Colleen’s note indicated the snake bite victim, Buddy Harris, was willing to do the interview, so we went to his room on the third floor. The door was cracked open, the lights on inside. I knocked and called out, “Mr. Harris? It’s Heidi Haynes from WPLM News.”
    “Yeah, come on in,” a heavily-accented gruff voice responded.
    Aric pushed open the heavy door. The room was small and bright and filled with the sounds of a college football pregame show playing on the wall-mounted television. Buddy Harris reclined in the bed with one meaty pale leg propped up and a meal tray in front of him. He gave the wheeled bedside table a push, rolling aside his unfinished lunch.
    “Well, you’re as purty as you are on the tee-vee.” Buddy offered me a wide smile and extended a hand in welcome. He looked to be in his early fifties, with a few days’ growth of salt and pepper beard and thinning gray hair on top. His light blue hospital johnny was short-sleeved, revealing thick, tanned arms. The leathery skin of his face spoke of decades spent in the outdoors, and I had no trouble believing this was the experienced hunter I’d been told about.
    I shook his hand, finding his grip surprisingly firm, considering what had happened to him. “Thank you, sir. It’s nice to meet you. How are you feeling?” I darted a glance at his left leg. The entire calf was blue and purple, with dark, nearly black, streaks extending almost down to the ankle. Gross. Fang marks at least two inches apart centered the dark area.
    “Well, I feel a whole heckuva lot better than I probably should. I couldn’t find my snake boots this morning, so I wore my muck boots. I didn’t see any turkeys, but I sure found myself a big ole timber rattler. Bit right through my pants and the boots.”
    “A rattlesnake. That’s what bit you, huh? Does it hurt?” I asked.
    “Not right now. They’ve got me doped up real nice.” He gave me a happy smile. “But it felt like somebody took a full swing at my leg with a baseball bat when it happened. I’m lucky to be here.”
    Aric set up the camera, and I clipped a lavalier microphone on Buddy’s gown. When Aric told me he was rolling, I began the interview.
    “Did you see the snake?”
    “Oh yeah—I got a look at ’im. That sucker was about six foot long.” Buddy stretched his arms as wide apart as they’d go in an attempt to represent the snake that struck him. “I was all by myself. I knew the hospital was twenty minutes away, and I’d have to walk back to where I parked my truck. I wasn’t sure I could make it.”
    “You must have been terrified,” I said.
    “I gotta admit—I was pretty scared. I sent up a prayer, you know? I’ve got a family, and I was thinking of them. I knew I had to calm down and stop my heart from pumping so fast because all I was doing was helping the venom get through my system faster. I got my venom extraction kit out of my turkey vest. I’d been carrying it around for ten years and never needed it. I had to read the directions first because I’d never even opened it up.”
    Buddy explained how he’d used the kit to extract several cups of his own poisoned blood from the wound before limping to his truck and driving himself to the medical center.