#snakebite

Pastor Bowen had reassured everyone the name had been chosen for her; Jessamine. A reminder to all that even the dainty and the beautiful and the unassuming could harm us. Her name was to be a sermon in itself. 

The answer was suitable enough and the members of his church didn’t bring it up again. Especially not when she grew and it seemed that out of all the Bowen children, she was the most capable to lead— her oldest brother had the gift of speech and would no doubt become a very eloquent preacher. The middle boy was as generous as he was faithful and was adored by all in the community— but Jessamine had her father’s gift. A gift that was given by God to those anointed few.

Her father could handle copperheads and rattlesnakes plucked straight from the wilderness, raise them above his head and they would not bite. From the time she was seven, Jessamine could do the same while her brothers ran away from the lunging snakes. Even Eve, the first woman, couldn’t resist the temptation of the snake, but the little Bowen girl knew how to grab hold of the Devil by the tail and remove his venom— she even had a little collection of vials of snake milk, her and the lethal toxin separated only by glass.

The congregation began to talk again, but this time Jessamine was there to reassure them just as her father did all those years ago. You fear because you do not understand, she had chided, lovingly, patiently, as her father had taught her to be. Even the most devout can become lost in their faith and it was up to the shepherds to guide them back to the face of God.

Jessamine started to collect the wild snakes she caught, housing them in fish bowls and tanks. Once again, it set off an uproar in the congregation, elder members of the church rebuking her talent with the snakes— oh, her father had held them and was seen as a prophet, but she does the same and is called cursed?

You believe in the gift of speech and the gift of charity, but not the gift of miracles? Oh, you of little faith— When God sends his prophets and his angels, will you spit in their faces because you do not understand them? 

The church dissolved soon after. It had been a small community to begin with and an even smaller church and yet suddenly half of the congregation had suddenly passed.

Those the little Bowen girl had marked as unfaithful and hardhearted had suddenly started convulsing early Sunday morning, skin swelling up as they awoke in a panic in their own beds.

Twelve deaths. Twelve graves.

Jessamine disappeared soon after the Twelve were put in the ground, all her snakes in tow.