The Snake Charmer

A Story by Tracy Leddy

Indeed, everyone agreed he was a most unusual snake charmer. He carried no baskets of trained cobras with him as he traveled up and down the world and would accept no money for his performance, yet he seemed able to charm away more snakes than anyone else. No one knew where he came from or where he had been; no one could predict when he would arrive or disappear. He came when he was called, he told someone once, merrily, and that’s all.

And he was a strange-looking fellow, too; thin and tall and very dark. He wore a ragged woolen cloak that had once been white and a tattered turban that had suffered a similar fate. His shoes were long and pointed; one sole was partly separated from the rest of the shoe and it made a curious flapping sound, almost like birds wings, when ever he took a step. When he wasn’t playing his flute he was smiling like a small child. People everywhere loved to see him coming; once they saw him they completely forgot all about his odd appearance and only listened to his music which was unlike any other music in the world.

Few people ever really noticed his deep-set eyes under the black curls and tattered turban but those who did never forgot them. I shall tell you about three who saw.

I happened that the snake charmer arrived one summer’s day in a small mountain village that nestled into a steep hillside just under another range of mountains. It was a surprisingly fertile place and very peaceful; the people there lived in considerable harmony and were generally kind to strangers.

As word of his coming passed quickly from house to house, the villagers began to gather to hear the snake charmer play. The women left their sweeping and washing; the men left their scythes and carts, their dreams and papers and came out of the fields and shops to listen. As he made his way slowly up the steep and narrow cobbled street, the music he played sounded so sweetly upon his listeners ears that old men in tea shops found themselves weeping and little children stood motionless at their games.

Two old women sat knitting in the sunlight by the side of the road. One had been complaining very bitterly for the hundredth time about her nearest neighbor but the sound of the approaching procession interrupted her gossip. When she looked up, the snake charmer was standing before her and staring straight into her eyes. His music grew sweeter and sweeter still; there were voices in it now and they seemed to be calling to the women form somewhere very far away. With a joy and terror she had never known, the old women stuffed her knitting into the bib of her long black apron and scrambled to her feet. As soon as she stood up, snakes began to appear from under her hair and from beneath her tongue, little ones swiftly moving, black and livid green.

For just moments they were visible to the horrified villagers and the old women and then they were wriggling into the charmers pocket and gone. The snake charmer took his flute out of his mouth and smiled at the old women. Unable to resist, she in turn looked steadily back into his eyes. But she saw no ordinary eyes with iris and pupil; she saw only Light, the most brilliant light she had ever seen, far brighter than the sun and much warmer. As she continued staring, she felt that warmth envelop her, fill her down to the inside of her wrinkled old toes. Silently she bowed her head.

Suddenly she was moved to look up; she caught sight of her neighbor’s face in the husband and wondering crowd. She burst into tears and pushed her way through the villagers until she could embrace the other women. I’m a wretched old crone,” she sobbed, “Forgive me, sister, I’ll never speak ill of you again.” The other women was too surprised to answer but she felt some of her neighbor’s inexplicable warmth and sat down with her and comforted her.

The snake charmer put his flute to his lips and walked on.

Further along the road stood an abandoned temple and beside it, a house with a very beautifully decorated façade. The doors were of sandalwood, richly carved and the walls were painted with lions and peacocks. It belonged to the wealthiest man in the village, a widower whose only daughter had looked after his household for many years. As the snake charmer stepped lightly along the cobblestones, one shoe flapping like birds wings, the daughter’s shrill voice could be heard above the music scolding the servants at their tasks as usual. She was a proud girl who would have been beautiful had she not been so lonely and dissatisfied with her life.

In a moment of domestic silence, the snake charmer’s music struck her ears for the first time. it was merry and joyful and spoke of great happiness to come. Felling curiously drawn to it, the girl stood our on the balcony in all her fine clothes to watch the snake charmer pass by. But when he came abreast of the house, instead of continuing on his way he stopped and, playing with all his heart, he started straight up at her. The girl hung over the balcony to hear the music more clearly and suddenly she was astonished to hear a hissing sound all around her. All her jewelry, earrings necklace, bracelets and bangles had turned into tiny snakes, white ones and brilliant red and gold ones. She and the villagers watched, thunderstruck, as they all slithered over the pierced balustrade and into the snake charmer’s pockets where they were seen no more.

The snake charmer took his flute out of is mouth and smiled up at the rich man’s daughter. Strangely relieved and happy for the first time in her life, she looked back steadily into the snake charmer’s eyes. She saw no ordinary eyes with iris and pupil; she saw only stars in a clear night sky, stars more brilliant than any she had ever seen from her Father’s roof. And, like the old woman, she too was suddenly filled with warmth from her shining black hair to her sandaled feet. “I must go and help them in the kitchen,” she said to herself, “perhaps I have been too harsh with them. Perhaps they don’t understand what it is I want them to do.” And she danced down the stairs and out in to the garden to pick flowers for her Father’s table at lunch.

Crowed followed Missing ... dwelling near the edge of the village, a tapping, shuffling sound could be heard coming from a flight of stone tairs inside. The snake charmer stopped once more and stood quietly by the door, playing and playing, his long fingers quick as butter flies on his hollow flute. The tune was sad now, at once chanting and pleading and full of promises of great joy.

After a few minutes a pale young boy stumbled out of the doorway. One of his legs was withered and he learned upon a crudely –made crutch. A murmur of approval burbled through the cored for the boy was well –known in the village. He had a good heart and spent most of his time playing with the little children. He never complained about his withered leg or about his absent mother; he had done his best to look after his old Father until he died, just a few weeks before. And more than one of the villager had remarked on the still distant look that often crossed his face. He limped straight toward the snake charmer and fell at his feet. “I have been waiting for so long,” he said, weeping, “I thought you would never come.”

The snake charmer stopped playing. He stooped down and lifted the boy gently to his feet with one strong brown arm. “catch hold of my cloak,” he again the snake charmer began to play.

A man stood on his roof waving a stick at some monkeys in a banyan tree next to his house. “they are stealing my guavas,” he grumbled to the bystanders and then, as the strain of the snake missing ... floated back to him, he missing ... roof top, the ripe green fruits bulging from their mouths. But not the crippled boy. He had eyes only for the snake charmer and ears only for his music. He held on tightly to the snake charmer’s cloak and followed him right out of the village.

The crowd watched the boy limp off with the snake charmer and many are sure they saw the crutch disappear, black and wriggling, into the snake charmer’s pocket and the boy’s stride become steadier and steadier as they walked along into the mists.

High up in the mountain the snake charmer stopped to rest. He turned to look the boy full in the face. The boy stared back straight into his eyes. At first he could see only the bluest of skies, but as he looked deeper inside them, he could see the snake charmer himself sitting in a ring of fire, playing his flute.
“Do you want to see more?” asked the snake charmer with a smile. “Oh yes!” answered the boy without hesitation.
And the snake charmer began to grow. He grew and grew until at last he blotted out the entire landscape, the mountain, the valley and the sky and always he played, bending closer and closer to the enraptured boy. Then the music became a wind pulled and pulled at the boy until finally he found himself deep, deep inside the snake charmer’s flute and walking joyfully toward the snake charmer in the ring of fire who would play for him forever.

Missing ...