That panic gripped him, grappled with his heart. Cleveland wanted nothing in the world but to be able to turn around and high-tail it back home. He didn't like snakes. Scratch that, he hated them. Not because of what they were essentially, but because he feared what they could do. Hate born of fear is a deadly thing. It wants nothing to do with the object of it's terror, so the two options are usually run or kill.
Cleveland's hand traveled slowly down to the canvas-covered bag hanging at his side. The jar. Grandma Rea's eyes flashed before his face. That deep, wise penetration sliced into his heart. He couldn't run. Not today.
But his strength and his speed were not enough to kill, either. What could he do? Courage is found in unlikely places, they say. At the very moment where Cleveland decided he would get past that snake or die trying, a sparrow, of all creatures, flitted out of the brush onto the path before the snake. Immediately the snake struck out at the bird. That small sparrow darted back just in time, leading the snake after it and, consequently, away from the path.
The little brown bird twittered and flirted with the snake, almost arrogant in the face of such grave danger. Cleveland was amazed. And somehow he felt that it was for him. For his sake. But, that would be silly; they were only creatures...like the butterfly.
As soon as the snake was beyond striking distance, Cleveland rushed forward along the path, past the dreaded snake. He ran at a steady clip, flying over the rough, weedy terrain. The panic still pumped through his blood, keeping him from slowing his pace for some time. He wondered about the sparrow. He hoped the bird had not been caught. He reflected on his own fear, his own lack of courage, compared to that of the bird. What boldness had possessed the sparrow? Maybe it was just a crazy bird, or one that liked danger. Bewildering.
He tried to tell himself that Grandma Rea would have been proud of him if she had been a witness to the encounter with the snake. She would have thought him brave and strong and smiled for his courage! But something inside him knew better.
Grandma Rea would have smiled at the sparrow.
