Read Online The Grasshopper Trap by Patrick F. McManus - Free Book Online Page A

inches from my protruding eyeballs, lay a huge, coiled rattlesnake, ready to strike.
    Speechless, I pushed back from the wall. Retch staggered about beneath me, his big hands clamping my feet to his shoulders.
    â€œSn-sn-sn … !” I said.
    Retch slammed me back up against the cliff. “Stop fooling around and climb on up there!” he snarled. “You’re not the lightest person in the world, you know.”
    â€œSn-sn-snake!” I stammered.
    â€œI said cut out the fooling around! That stupid ‘snake’ nonsense don’t work on me no more! Now get on up there!”
    He planted a hand beneath my rear and tried to boost me up onto the ledge with a mighty shove. “Ya gah gah aaaakkkh!” I said, unable to think of anything more intelligent. The rattler and I were nose to nose! And then I realized that the snake was dead.
    Some insensitive lout who liked to scare people with snakes, realizing that this was the only spot possible to ascend the cliff, had coiled the dead rattler right at the brink of the
ledge. I loathe people like that. In total disgust, I thrust out my shotgun barrel and swept the rattler off the ledge.
    â€œIt’s just an old dried-up dead snake that some stupid jerk …” I never got to finish the sentence.
    Retch cleared one side of the corral cleanly and took only the top board off the other side. He banked high on the rock wall as he roared around a narrow curve in the canyon, then accelerated flat out on the straight stretch. Six hundred yards later, he finally ran out of adrenaline and chugged to a stop, streaming sweat and gasping profanity. I let go of his hair and dropped from his shoulders to the ground.
    â€œIt was dead,” I said. “The snake was dead!”
    â€œI know that.”
    â€œSo how come you went berserk?”
    â€œWell, my mind knows there ain’t no reason to be afraid of snakes, but my feet ain’t learned it yet, that’s how come! So don’t let me catch you smirking. Another thing.”
    â€œWhat’s that?”
    â€œDon’t never cry ‘snake’ again.”
    And I haven’t.

Metamorphosis and Other Outdoor Phenomena Wives Don’t Understand
    I had done nothing peculiar. That’s why I was somewhat surprised when Bun asked, “All right, what have you been up to?”
    â€œNothing,” I said, innocently enough. “Why do you ask?”
    â€œBecause you haven’t been acting peculiar lately. Every time you put on a show of being normal, I know you are up to something.”
    â€œWell, maybe I’m having a sordid affair with some beautiful and mysterious woman. Have you considered that?”
    My little suggestion provoked quite a scene. It was easy to see why my wife might be jealous. Beautiful, mysterious women find it virtually impossible to resist handsome, debonair sportsmen. Nevertheless, I think it quite unladylike : for a wife to display her jealousy by squealing with laughter and repeatedly slapping her thighs. In a fit of jealousy, a wife knows how to cut right to the quick.
    â€œNo,” she said, wiping away tears of mirth, “I never
considered that. Now stop, no more jokes. My sides ache. Oh dear, but you do get off a good one from time to time. Seriously, I will tell you what I suspect. I suspect you sneaked a new gun into the house without telling me. Right?”
    â€œWrong! Wrong! I’ll have you know I do not sneak new guns into the house.”
    â€œOh, yeah? Then how come you have nearly twice as many guns now as you did three years ago? Explain that.”
    Here was a classic example of a wife’s stumbling upon an outdoor phenomenon totally beyond her comprehension. Over the years I have noted many such phenomena. I have discussed the matter with other outdoorsmen and found to my dismay that my own experience in the matter is not unique but universal.
    What had never occurred to Bun was that guns, confined in the