“Hey. You back again?” Irene, the receptionist in the emergency room at the Blount County Medical Center, looked up in surprise.

I pointed to the ambulance where Mary Alice was being unloaded. “It’s my sister this time. She’s been bitten by a snake.”

“Well, have mercy. Y’all are smack in the middle of some kind of bad karma, aren’t you? Work in here long enough you see bad karma, Southern Baptist or not.”

She handed me a clipboard with a form to fill out. “What kind of snake was it?”

“Rattlesnake.”

“In January?

“Somebody put it in our car.”

“Well, I declare. You sure?”

“It was sitting on the back seat big as life last time I saw it.”

“Lord. I’d have died just seeing it.”

“I almost did.”

I squinted at the form, and reached in my purse for my reading glasses. Behind me the doors banged open as the gurney was brought in.

“Wait a minute,” I called to Tammy as they started down the hall. “I’ve got to get her purse. I need the insurance cards.” Lord, déjà vu sure enough. The feeling was compounded when I sat down to fill out the form and Death walked in with his KILL THEM ALL, LET GOD SORT THEM OUT T-shirt on, sat down, and picked up a Southern Living.

I glanced over at Irene.

“Trash,” she mouthed.

The door slid open again with a rush of cold air.

“Mrs. Hollowell?”

I looked up to see Terry Mahall. He was dressed in a navy suit with a red-and-navy-striped tie. He was every inch the banker today.

“Betsy called and told me you were here. She wanted me to check and see how your sister is. Albert called her and told her what happened.”

“They’ve just taken her back. I think she’s going to be okay, though. I appreciate your coming by.”

Terry sat down beside me. Death looked over the top of his Southern Living, checked him out, and continued his reading.

“I’m glad Betsy called me. I’m working right down the street today so if there’s anything I can do for you, I’ll be glad to.”

“Thanks, but I can’t think of a thing. Did she tell you what happened?”

“She sure did. Unbelievable.”

Death’s cute little wife walked in, and he stood up. For the first time, Terry got a look at the T-shirt.

“Lord,” he mumbled. Then after they walked out, “I hope we’re not financing anything for him.”

I shrugged, which hurt. I may have groaned a little.

“Are you okay?” Terry asked.

“I think so.”

“Your face is scratched pretty bad. And burned. The air bag?”

I nodded.

“Well, I think we need to get you checked out, too.” He got up and started toward Irene, then turned back to me. “Okay?”

Polite man. I was happy for him to take charge.

“Okay.”