Gerald Phalanx was six and unhappy when his family decided to move to the country. They moved north of a large town, by a lake that turned black at certain times of the year. The lake was one of the very few things that interested Gerald. He would spend a lot of time there during the black season, skimming flat rocks across the surface of the water. He loved the way the rocks would float and leave a little trail of ripples like a swimming reptile.
He didn’t get along with many of the kids at school, and showed sophistication above the level of his peers. He considered them country bumpkins.
“That’s an odd generalisation for a child so young,” his teachers would say.
“He’s never really been a normal boy,” Mrs. Phalanx explained. “He takes after his father.”
Gerald’s father was a vet who set up a small clinic in the country town. He’d found it hard to obtain clients as the town’s vets were already well established — the people weren’t comfortable with new business from the city. Gerald’s father shared his frustrations with his son and the two developed a partnership based on their exclusion.
When Gerald was older his father let him work at the clinic doing small jobs. Gerald enjoyed the sterile environment and his interactions with the animals. He said that one day he wanted to be a vet, which made his father very proud.
One summer afternoon a man came into the clinic with a pet python. The man complained that his python was more lethargic than usual, barely moving most of the day and finding it hard to capture and eat food. Dr. Phalanx took the python in, promising to study its habits and determine what could be wrong.
Gerald took an immediate interest in the animal, it being so different from the usual pets that came to the clinic. Gerald was allowed to administer its food and grew fascinated by the way it would eat, swallowing the mice whole. Despite his interest, after some days, feeding the snake began to bore him. Starving the snake was the next logical step towards an outcome he hadn’t yet imagined.
One hot morning, Dr. Phalanx was called out to a nearby farm to look at a flyblown sheep. Desperate for the work, he closed the clinic and left Gerald to mind the place while he was out. While his father was gone, Gerald got a pair of surgical pliers and removed the snake’s teeth. The thing moped meekly in his pale hands as he performed the operation with the efficiency of a surgeon. When he was done he took off his pants and held the snake at the end of his erect penis and let the reptile bite down on it. He helped the snake along with the process, all the while examining the expanded snake’s jaw. His heart beat faster than it ever had. He ejaculated inside the snake’s throat and then pulled it off him. He placed the python back in its cage and pretended nothing had ever happened.
When his father returned and went about his daily duties, he noted the missing teeth on the python and immediately called the owner.
“I’m afraid there’s something very wrong with your python,” he explained. “Its teeth have fallen out, it’s getting increasingly thin despite being fed more than usual and it seems that it’s excreting a clear fluid from its mouth.”
The snake was put down the next morning.
Phalanx gave up working at the clinic soon after, telling his father he had developed other interests. He would mull over these interests down by the black lake, skimming rocks over the water and watching the sun go down on the world.