The Birthing House

Nadia screwed up her courage as the serpent stretched out and raised her head, her tongue flickering gently, moving toward his face. The snake rested her neck against his shoulder and began slithering over his back while her tail hung semi-loose over his arms and waist.

'I can't believe I'm doing this.' Nadia set her hand on the snake's back and did not recoil at the first touch. 'She's so smooth. Like velvet.'

'Boelen's have exceptionally smooth scales, very delicate skin. See the iridescence there, the way it makes little rainbows in the light?'

'Yeah.'

'Boelen's survive in the higher elevations because her black scales absorb heat.'

'What's that on her lips?'

Shadow had come around his other shoulder. On her top lip, the vertical scales were thicker, the black grill of a sleek new car.

'Those are called pits. She senses heat with them. For hunting. '

Nadia let the snake slither forth, feeling the muscled length settle on her arms. Conrad stepped from under the snake's body and allowed the full weight to hang on her.

'Oh my God. She's amazing.'

'Yes, she is.' He could see that she was proud of her bravery.

'Thank you for showing me this, Conrad. This is really, really cool.'

'My pleasure.'

She was like the camp kids that came to the Humane Society. They started the hour crying and cowering in the corner. By the end they were fighting each other to be next in line while their parents stood stiffly at the back of the room, eyes accusing him. Except with Nadia there wasn't much fear to begin with.

'Hey, Conrad. What are those?'

'What?'

'There, in the box thingy.' She pointed. 'The white stuff? Is that her poop?'

'Uh, maybe.' Snakes defecated white calcified urates, like hardened marshmallows. 'Those are kinda big to be - hey, wait.'

He froze, trying to process what he was seeing.

'What is it?'

'My God.'

'What's wrong?' She had seen something in his eyes.

'Those are eggs.'

'And they're not supposed to be?'

'They can't . . . she's never--' He checked the locks on all the cages, opened Shadow's cage and searched under her hide-in, the water bowl, the paper substrate. Foolishly looking for what he knew wasn't there, a sign that another of the animals had gotten inside with her. 'She can't have eggs, not now.'

'Why not?'

'Because Shadow has never, never once been with a male. Hobarth documented everything meticulously. And she's not even mature. I wasn't planning on putting her with the others until next spring and, even then, that was a dream. I figured two years, but this, uh-uh. There's no way.'

'They don't just lay eggs like chickens or something?'

'No, they need to be fertilized. They must mate to become gravid. No mate, no eggs.'

'One of the others got to her, you think?'

'No. Not a chance. And if they did, what, they locked themselves back in? No. The crazy thing is, I was just thinking how she looked too slim.'

'It's a good thing, though, right? She's not sick?'

'No, she seems healthy,' he said, returning to the eggs. Eight or nine white orbs the size of a cue ball, all but two stuck together in a moist clutch. He was wide-eyed, giddy and a little frightened.

'That's like, what? A hundred thousand dollars?'

'Nadia, it's much more than that,' he said, stars in his eyes. 'This is a virgin birth.'

'Okay,' she said. She didn't understand he meant it literally.

'This is a miracle.' His eyes were full of a hunger that made her step back.

'Really? Wow. I . . . I guess I should be getting home.' She headed for the door. 'Thanks for everything.'

'No problem. Sorry, I'm a little out of it. I need to call someone. Dr Hobarth's going to freak.'

'Okay,' she said. 'Good luck.'

'Yes,' he said. 'You must be some kind of luck.'

He was still laughing when she shut the door behind her.

An untouched female. Nine Boelen's eggs.

'Holy shit.'

11

His hand was on the phone when he realized she still didn't know he'd bought the snakes. She would argue that he was being silly and juvenile. But this wasn't the same as the organic juice pyramid scheme, or the Pre-Paid Legal side business, or any other half-assed endeavor he'd thrown his hat in with over the past five years waiting for his real life to begin. These were different. They were an investment, one he knew would soon pay large dividends. She would understand. Once she laid her eyes on the offspring. But even with the good news about the eggs, he had to catch her in the right mood.

He set the phone down and it rang immediately, startling him to fumble the receiver.

'Hello?'

'Conrad!' A one-word accusation. 'Where have you been?'

He heard her crying and was seized by the idea that she knew he had walked Nadia home and lured her into the garage.

'I was in the yard. What's wrong, Jo?'

'I'm not, I'm not feeling so good. I'm having a hard time staying in class. I keep telling myself it's just nerves but it won't go away. I keep thinking about it.'

'About what?'

'About what? Everything. This, us! I'm living in a hotel in a random city, I don't know anybody. You have no idea what this is like.'

'I'm sorry, Jo. Calm down. I do know what it's like. I'm living in a city where I don't know anyone, either.'

'It's not the same. You're home! You have the dogs.'

'They miss you. We do. A lot.'

She was still on the verge of shouting. 'Have you even thought about this? One week we're living in Los Angeles and now, what, we just decide to move to the middle of nowhere? I don't think this is what we thought it would be.'

'What did you think--? No, skip that,' he said. 'I know what we said it would be. What is it now?'

'I think you need to do some serious thinking.'

Some serious thinking! 'About?'

'About everything.' Her voice had resumed a normal pitch. This frightened him, that she could be nearly hysterical one minute and then go Dr Phil the next. 'For starters, why did we have to leave Los Angeles? No, don't answer me now. I want you to think about it because this is really important, are you listening?'

'Yes.' Talk, don't talk. What do you want me to do, woman?

'This isn't like us, it's too fast, the whole thing. It's like we woke up different people. I know you've been through a lot with your father dying, but I'm sorry. There's more to it. You're not being truthful with me. I know something . . . else . . . happened to you. Something bad. You've always been aloof, but you're different now. Darker. And I'm sorry if that sounds paranoid. But I'm not sorry because it's how I feel, so don't try to blame me.'

This, more than anything about his wife, made his blood jump. The way she dumped everything on him and, whether he deserved it or not, backed it all up by telling him that he could not, dared not, dispute it because this was the way she felt. He equated this sort of haired-out logic with fundamentalists who burned books because they were offended and pissed off at the world. She felt bad; it was his responsibility to change until she felt better.

'--and then there's your career. Because I can take care of myself, but I don't want to take care of you, too. And you shouldn't want me to.'

Wasn't that what married people were supposed to do, take care of each other? And, Christ, he'd just inherited five hundred thousand dollars. What the fuck was this about?

'I'm solvent now. We're ahead of the game here, Jo.'

'It's not about the money, Conrad. You have to do something real.'

'Something real? Like what? Selling more software I don't even understand? Like traveling around the country so much neither one of us is home to so much as feed the dogs, let alone a kid?'