snake tails...or not
Really, this tale has nothing whatsoever to do with snakes, but it's almost as scary.
the furry invader
When I was about 11, our family moved into the fanciest house I had ever lived in in my whole life. It's the fanciest house still, matter of fact.
My parents built it high on a hill and it was so typically-80's that you'd likely say, "Gag me with a spoon!" if you could see it.
It had the totally-in-for-the-time clapboard style wood cabinets stained almost black with heavy antiqued hardware; thick shag carpeting in all shades; and the most awful striped wallpaper in the kitchen with orange, brown and cream-colored stripes. GUH! I hated that wallpaper even more than the blue grasscloth wallpaper in my bedroom and the natural grasscloth paper in the foyer!
Ugh! Speaking of the natural grasscloth in the foyer, upon said grasscloth hung the obligatory doorbell chimes of that era. Long brass tubes of various lengths from short to long by degrees. I wasn't too fond of those, either.
I dunno why, but those things stand out to me, along with the rock-facade fireplace that covered one entire wall of the family room. It would have been so cool except that Mom just had to put high-gloss sealer on it. So we had this big wall of what looked like slime-covered rock to deal with if we wanted to watch TV.
Okay, so where does the critter come in? Why, in the front door, of course!
furry invader, enter center stage
My mom had a ceramic shop in those days. She had a real operation going in the basement. I mean, she even poured her own stuff, which is why she's now plagued with hemorrhoids to this very day, but I digress...
Mom would spend hours and hours down there either pouring new greenware or "touching up" stuff for people who came to do ceramics class. She was forevermore painting eyes for people and then she'd see something else that needed 'touching up', et cetera and so forth. Remember, my mother is one of the top perfectionists in the world. She had no business going into something that relied on other people coming to vent their artistic frustrations. Her perfectionistic self could not take it!
So, on the night in question, Mom was down in the basement working away the hours.
Daddy had long ago learned to just go on to bed and not try to talk sense to her.
My sister was spending the night at Mamaw's house so it was just us three at home.
It's important to the story to know how the house was laid out, so check it out
Okay, so now you have the layout. Let me continue with the story...
Wait...more background info...my daddy. Sheesh. He's kinda his own breed, if you know what I mean. He marches to the beat of his own drum and NOBODY else can tap out the beat the way he does, uhkay? So anyhow, about 1 am, Daddy feels sick. What does he do? Well, most people would head to the bathroom to have their sick spell, but not my daddy. Noooooo. He stumbles down the hallway there and out the front door.
Our front door was only there for looks. The drive came to the garage, which was on the other end of the house! You had to walk allll the way around the sidewalk and into a dark recess to find the front door and the only time we used it much was when I got married! Yep, I got married in this very house.
So anyhow, Dad goes out this never-used front door, apparently leaving it open, to hack and squawl and bellow until he felt better.
Guh.
Then he came back in, locked the door so's no boogie mans could get in, and went to bed. Mom must have come to bed around 2 am or so.
Around 3 am, I woke to a strange sound. As a typical teenager, I went to sleep listening to the radio, so my big stereo was turned low, playing beside my bed with its soft glow doubling as a nice night light in my room.
At first, I thought the station was getting interference, but then I woke up enough to realize it was something else.
My room had these heavy insulated drapes. One window was almost right in front of one of those big outside night lights and those drapes were apart just enough to let one bright shaft of light come into the room.
As I sat up in bed, trying to open my eyes enough to figure out what was going on, I saw it.
The Critter. He was about the size of a fat, lazy cat with black and white fur. Yeah. Black with a white stripe.
It was A SKUNK!! The realization hit me about then. THERE WAS A SKUNK IN MY ROOOOOOM!!!!!!! See updated layout map:
As I was slowly grasping this concept, the thing passed out of the shaft of light and RIGHT UNDER MY BEEEEDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!!!
I kid. You not.
AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!
By this time, I was right in the center of my big bed, almost standing up. I was trying to figure out what the heck to do because I WAS NOT ABOUT TO GET OFF THAT BED!
I started hollering for Mom, who was the only person in the house I might possibly be able to wake up. And I prayed she hadn't shut her bedroom door!
When she finally answered me, I said, "Come down here, turn on the light in my room, but DO NOT COME IN."
"What????" was her reply and I am POSITIVE she thought I was having a low blood sugar.
"Just turn on the light but do NOT come in here."
By this time, she was down the hall nearing my room. I hollered, "Mom, DON'T COME IN HERE!"
She said, "What are you talking about?!"
"There's a skunk in here."
In sheer and utter disbelief (and probably wondering where the nearest rubber room was) she said, "WHAT?"
"Just reach in here and turn on the light."
She did. By this time, Dad in all his glorious underwear, was standing there too and about that time, Mr. Skunk came out from under my bed and waltzed slowly OVER TO MY CLOSET AND WENT INSIDE!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I looked at my parents to see Mom's mouth hanging open and Dad scratching his head. They both then turned to each other and started mumbling and WALKED BACK DOWN THE HALL!!!!!!
THEY LEFT ME SITTING THERE!!!! I took the opportunity to leap from my bed, a full mile from the door, out into the hallway! Okay, so maybe it wasn't a mile, but I guarantee you I've never since jumped that far!
By the time I raced to probable safety, Mom and Dad were standing in the foyer discussing what to do.
Mom was reaming Daddy for going outside to puke and leaving the door open, of course.
They decided to go turn off my light and turn on the hall lights and see what Mr. Skunk would do.
Mom and I stayed put while Undieman went to brave the beast. ROFLMBO!!! It really was very odd for me to be seeing Dad tromping around in his drawers like that, so it's a vivid part of my memory, 'kay?
Obviously, we couldn't see Dad from where we stood, but we heard my light click off, then saw the hallway lights come on, then....BOOM, BOOM, BOOM, BOOM, BOOM, SLAM!
We heard Daddy running like a mad man back down the hallway, into their room and slamming the door.
Then,a very rapid SCRATCH-SCRATCH-SCRATCH-SCRATCH-SCRATCH-SCRATCH-SCRATCH.
Mr. Skunk was VERY mad at Undieman!
After the mad scratching, Mr. Skunk mosied back down to my room. We saw him as he went by.
Mom and I were stunned! I don't remember us saying anything during this time.
In a second, Daddy had opened the window in their bathroom and was telling us what had happened; how the skunk had charged at him and what he was going to do next.
He went back and opened the bedroom door where Mr. Skunk had trapped him and to our utter disbelief, Skunk came flying down the hallway...SLAM!...and started digging to get in again!!!!
AAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!
So, that left us po' womenfolk to rid the house of Mr. Skunk!
Dad came back to the window and told us to make some noise and see if Skunk would come toward us!
"WHAAAAATTTTTT?????!!!??!?!" He had obviously lost his mind!
It was the only way, so he said.
I don't know if he told Mom to do it or not, but next thing I knew, she had a long rug holding it like a shield and we started making noise. Here came Mr. Skunk, only he didn't seem to be so mad at us. He was just ambling along like a Sunday stroll or something.
We were standing there beside the front door, cowering behind this rug and I SO wish we had a picture of how ludicrous we must have looked. Mr. Skunk came closer, and closer, and c-l-o-s-e-r....
He stopped about 3 feet from us, looked up at us as if to say, "How ya'll doin'?" and then turned to go out the front door.
Daddy could see us from his bathroom prison so he was witness to what happened next.
About the time Mr. Skunk got out the door, my mother, and what possessed her to do what she did I'll never know, but she took that rug and with a venom-filled "GET OUTTA MY HOUSE!!" she flipped Mr. Skunk's bee-hind!!!!
The bee-hind that could have potentially sprayed us to Kingdom Come!!!!!
Daddy almost fainted.
live to spray another day
Mr. Skunk, love his heart, didn't spray us. Daddy said if he'd have sprayed, we'd have had to burn the front door down. I don't know whether that's true or not, but never the less, there's my tale.
Mr. Skunk lived to terrorize others and Undieman hung up his invisible cape.
Although there was the time a bat got into his bedroom....
Ahhh, but that's a whole 'nother story.