“Or, you know, if you could let me know where I could find her, I could drop this off even before I run into her next time, because, you know, if she gets pulled over or something and has to show her license to the cops, well, I’d hate to see that happen.”

“You think the cops want to talk to her again?”

“Oh no, heck, I wasn’t suggesting that. Just for a ticket, they set up these radar traps all over the neighborhood, you know, getting their quota, whatever.”

“That’s what you got in that big bag there? Stef’s driver’s license?”

“No, no.” I paused. “I just bought some new shoes.”

“And you brung them with you to the door?” She cracked a smile, called out, “Hey, Jimmy, man’s got a new pair of shoes he wants to show ya.”

“Listen, how about if you tell me where I can find her, and just in case she calls here before I find her, I’ll leave you my name and—”

I would have said more, but I felt something large and heavy drag across the back of my legs, exerting a kind of pressure, and then, while the pressure was being maintained on the back of my legs, felt something press against the front of them down by my ankles. And I looked down, and it appeared, at a glance, that a tree trunk was wrapping itself around my legs. And I said:

“God! What the—shit!”

I didn’t just stand in one place while I said this. I started jumping up and down, threw myself up against the refrigerator, knocked a box of Froot Loops off the top and to the floor, where the contents scattered across the cracked linoleum, crunching under my feet as I continued dancing about, trying to disentangle myself from what was clearly the biggest fucking snake that ever found its way to North America.

“Jimmy!” the woman screamed. “We found Quincy!”

The snake moved away from my legs and slithered its way silently through the table and chair legs, heading for the dining room.

“That’s Quincy,” Stefanie’s mother said. “I think you scared him.”

“Jesus!” I said. My heart was pounding so hard I felt it would explode through my jacket like that little critter in the Alien movie. “What is that?”

“Quincy’s a python,” she said. “We were going to name him Monty but that seemed so obvious. He was a gift from one of Stef’s old boyfriends, but I gotta tell you, there are days I’m not so sure we wouldn’t have been better off with a dog.”

Jimmy was barreling down the stairs, running through the kitchen and into the dining room. “Come here, you son of a bitch!”

“He’s harmless,” she said.

“You’re allowed to keep a python?” I said.