Integument

“Is it safe to be getting your face that close?” I said with hesitance. 

Locke was down on all fours, marveling at a large Eastern brown snake sunbathing in the center of the almost desolate road. 

“Don’t worry, mate,” Locke said in his thick Australian accent, looking calm and confident while his eyes and the snake’s were locked onto one another. “Out where they belong, snakes are gentle as can be.” 

I squatted down and snapped a photo of the surreal Kodak moment unfolding before my eyes.

 “Everyone gets the wrong idea about snakes,” said Locke. “Most run into snakes when they’re scared and cranky, but that’s not the true nature of a snake,” His charismatic words paired the Australian accent somehow lessened the tense mood of the situation.

In all my experience as a wildlife photographer, Locke had been the most hands-on I’d seen. Although his face couldn’t have been more than three feet from the snake, I trusted his judgment. I had never seen anything like this. I put my focus back into shooting the scene instead of worrying about Locke getting bit by our first accidental run-in with a snake. Looking through the viewfinder of the camera and zooming in, I couldn’t help but admire the look of the brown, wet-looking scales that laid atop its thick, muscular body. This snake blended in perfectly with the dusty brown landscape that surrounded. From behind the safety of my zoom lens, I focused on the snake’s small head, finger half-pressed on the shutter, waiting for the right moment to snap a photo. Snakes have a way of constantly looking pissed off even if they’re not. The brow of this one was permanently furrowed. The snake flicked its tongue and without hesitation, I fully pressed the shutter. *Click*

“Got it,” I said to myself. A small moment, a fraction of a second captured forever. 

 “Jude, are you ready to bag ‘em up?” Locke said, still refusing to avert his gaze from the deadly reptile. 

“Ready when you are,” Jude said assuringly. Locke slowly backed away and stood up. Getting three feet away from the face of a deadly snake seemed like a showboating move on the surface, but I could tell that Locke was genuinely marveling at the creature like it had been his first time ever seeing one.

Jude handed him the three-foot-long metal snake hook, and they both assumed their positions on each side of the snake. Jude manned the cloth snake bag, which was clipped to a metal hoop to prop it open. He held on to the end of the metal arm that extended from the hoop like a cane. Then, with impressive ease, Locke used the snake hook to guide the Eastern brown into the cloth bag. To my surprise, the snake seemed at will to Locke and slithered into the bag without putting up a fight. Locke seemed to be the natural snake charmer. Jude began to twirl the metal arm to twist the bag shut.

“Nice work, boys,” said Locke. “Now let’s get this girl off the road and on her way”

Back in the jeep, I could still feel the effects of the adrenaline from our encounter with our first snake of the journey, the most poisonous in Australia as Locke would later point out. I sat in the back, laying my head back against the leather headrest, watching the scenery of the Australian bush pass by as I reflected on how I got to this exciting point in my career. This was my second time being hired by NatGeo as a freelancer to shoot photos to go along with a magazine article. This article was a feature on the top ten deadliest snakes in Australia. My very first assignment had been to take photos of snails, a low-stakes assignment compared to now. I remember my early days of photographing weddings and taking senior portraits to barely scrape by. My young ego had a hold on me then, and nothing was more agonizing to me then than shooting senior portraits. My family had sorely questioned my choice of pursuing a career in photography, and the debt I had after pursuing a degree in photography made me question how worthwhile it was. But I can say that I ruthlessly hung in there no matter what, hammering my way through my twenties to build my nature and wildlife portfolio in hopes of getting some sort of recognition. I’m so glad I stuck to my guns, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t at least a little bit proud of myself. My parents are just happy that I didn’t get a degree to photograph families at Sears. 

“Most people ‘round here run over the poor things if they ever see ‘em laying in the road like that,”  said Locke, bringing my attention back from my daydream. “She’s lucky that we ran into her today!”

“That she is, that she is,” said Jude. “You still make me nervous every time you get yourself that close to a snake.”

“Hahaha, if I’ve learned anything, snakes are the least of my worries, it’s other people that pose the real threats in life. Snakes are easy, their intentions are laid out for all to see. People are harder, they pretend to be your friend first before they strike.”

“Sounds like you’ve been burned in the past, eh?” Jude said with a chuckle. 

“Well, haven’t we all?”

Jude began twisting the volume dial on the radio, a news broadcast now filled the jeep. 

“It’s been approximately 72 hours since 42-year-old Zara Rumburg of Darwin went missing. There are no possible suspects and there is no current evidence of a struggle in the home of Rumburg, where she was last known to be. Her car was parked in her driveway at the time of her disappearance. We cannot conclude that this is a kidnapping, but we encourage all Darwin residences to take precaution and report any information that could lead to the recovery of Zara Rumburg.”

Jude clapped both of his hands together. “Nice to know that there’s a looney roaming the streets of my hometown.”

“It’s probably someone she knows, that’s usually how it goes, right,” I said. 

“See what did I tell ya, they get close to you and then they strike. Our next stop is actually just right outside of Darwin,” said Locke.  

“A man named Tom called about a possible desert death adder,” said Jude. “Highly venomous, Chris, so keep your wits about you or you’ll be good as dead,” he said half-jokingly.

“Oh don’t scare ‘em like that Jude, we have nothing to worry about as long as we’re precautious,” said Locke.

“You guys are the ones with the dangerous part of the job,” I said with a laugh. “I get the easiest part of it all.” I grabbed my large DSLR camera and checked the battery life and made sure the settings were correct for the third time to make sure to prevent any possible camera mishaps. This assignment, if shot well, could do a lot for me as far as building a reputation. 

I was the only one in the trio that didn’t have an extensive background with reptiles. When I first received the offer to shoot this assignment, I thought they might have us traveling deep into the bush, but I soon found out that most of these snakes can be found in many Australian suburbs, where city meets country. In a way, our mission was to kill two birds in one stone. Locke and Jude would perform their service and remove snakes that had found their way too close to people and release them back into the wild, and I would photograph it all. My part of the job was straightforward. The magazine wanted photos that illustrated how many of Australia’s most dangerous snakes can wind up close to humans, and that’s exactly what they were going to get. 

Locke, or Dr. Locke Beckett for formality's sake, was a zookeeper at the Taronga Zoo in Sydney, specializing in reptiles. Dr. Jude Cornell also shared a love for snakes and was known in Australia for his toxicology research with snake venom. He served as Locke’s right-hand man for this trip and had anti-venom at the ready. 

After continuing to drive for about half an hour, Locke turned the jeep onto a gravel driveway and pulled up to a trailer-sized house resting on stilts, three feet above the ground. A small plastic playground set up for toddlers stood in the grassy front yard. 

“I reckon the snake is cooling off under one of those tarps under the house,” said Jude. “Perfect place for it on a day like this.” Today had been especially sweltering, and we had all sweat through our shirts from our first encounter with the Eastern brown. Regardless, we were all anxious and eagerly hopped out of the Jeep to hopefully encounter the death adder.

“Crazy to think that there are children playing alongside deadly snakes,” I said as we approached the small porch attached to the house.

 “Snakes are just a part of everyday life here in Australia. They’ve been wandering around here a lot longer than we have.” Locke said with enthusiasm. 

Before we could reach the porch, a stocky, older man walked out onto the small porch. He reminded me of Santa with his trim snow-white hair and beard, along with his firm-looking potbelly that was accentuated by his neatly tucked-in t-shirt.

“G’day gentlemen! I bet you’re here about my snake problem.” said the man.

“In fact we are!” replied Locke. “I’m Locke, this is my partner Jude, and here we have our photographer, Chris.”

“Nice to meet you all, I’m Tom. I appreciate you comin’ out to help me get rid of the feller. Scared the hell out of me when I saw it a couple days ago”

“Absolutely, of course! So now the question is, where can we find it.”

“Down in the cellar in the backyard over here.” Tom motioned with his hand for us to follow him.

 “I wonder how it found its way down into the cellar.” Jude wondered aloud.

I had seen cellars attached to houses before, but a cellar with doors parallel to the ground in the center of a backyard was new to me. The doors had rust around the handles and hinges, with dark green paint blistering off from being directly in the sun day after day. The more I thought about it, there was no evidence of any space large enough for a snake to find its way in, and looking at the contemplative expression on Jude’s face, I could tell he was thinking the same thing. But my knowledge of snakes was limited, to say the least. I’m sure there are more ways than one for a snake to find its way into a cool, underground cellar. 

The doors creaked as Tom pulled them both open, revealing a set of concrete steps leading down into the cellar. This thing was more like a bunker than anything. The cool air of the cellar hit like a wave and offered a moment’s relief from the sun’s rays.

“Looks like a bit of a tight fit down there,” said Locke. “I think it might be best if I go down and have a look first and locate the snake.” 

Jude and I both agreed and remained at the opening of the cellar. It was hard to view what was going on from our angle. The bunker-like room extended to the left at the base of the stairs. The cellar didn’t have superb lighting from what little I could see, and Locke used his pocket flashlight to get a better look. The one thing I did notice was that Tom seemed to become increasingly uncomfortable as time went on. His eyes kept darting back and forth between the house and the cellar. As strange as it seemed at first, I could understand why one might become uncomfortable. It wouldn’t be a great day for Tom if someone was bit by a venomous snake on his property. Jude seemed to quickly take notice of Tom’s behavior as well and promptly began the small talk.

“I’m actually from Darwin, born and raised. We actually heard something about a missing woman from here earlier on the radio.”

“Oh yes, indeed. You know, it’s funny that you mention that.” Tom turned and motioned to the only other house about a mile down the desolate gravel road. “The missing woman actually lived just down the road there. Crazy. Sweet woman, she was. Recently widowed actually. She’s got a sad story to tell. But that’s for another time.” Tom said with a coldness. 

“Oh jeez, that is crazy. I don’t know if I’d feel comfortable staying here by myself after that” I said. Tom remained silent, and I wondered if I had said the wrong thing.

Luckily, Locke returned to the surface a moment later.

“I couldn’t find anything down there. He must have found a way out. My bet is it’s under your shady house. I saw a rodent scurrying around when we were walking up earlier.” said Locke. “Shade and food on a day like this is exactly what a snake needs. If you don’t mind, I’d be more than happy to take a look.”

Tom paused for a moment, glancing back again at the house.

“Sure, sure! That’d be great. But first, why don’t we go inside for a moment and have a drink to cool off. You all look like you need it. I made my special fresh lemonade this mornin” said Tom.

None of us could argue with that logic, and we all proceeded to walk into his home. As we followed Tom into the house, my eyes were met with the head of a dingo, a dead one, hanging directly ahead of the front door. 

“That’s sure a statement piece you’ve got here,” I said with a smile. 

“Like it eh? Did it myself.” Tom said as he walked into the kitchen. 

I soon noticed that the dingo wasn’t the only taxidermied animal in the room. The living area was chock full of different furried animals. A wombat, a fox, and to my surprise, a koala. There were several other small to medium-sized mammals erected around the room. The koala was somehow perched onto a thick, long stick, standing upright out of a large terra cotta pot, making the taxidermied koala that much more uncomfortable to look at. 

“Wow, you’re pretty good, they look so real.... I’ve heard taxidermy isn’t the easiest thing to do.”

“It’s a passed down art form,” said Tom. “My father taught me everything I know,” he said with pride in his voice. 

I saw Jude quickly shake his head in disapproval at the sight of the koala.

“Have you ever heard of the Koala Protection Act, Tom?” Locke fired quickly at Tom, with an air of seriousness replacing his upbeat demeanor. 

Tom began to chuckle, a small grin escaping his lips.  “Calm down, Locke. My father passed that one down to me, and his father passed it down to him. Got the papers to prove it if you’d like to see”

A wave of silence fell over the group for what seemed like an eternity, but in reality, was only about three seconds. 

“I don’t think that will be necessary.” Locke solemnly replied. 

Tom’s half-smile still remained. “Well anywho, let me get that lemonade. This way into the kitchen, gentlemen.” 

We followed Tom through the small door frame. Although small, it was clean and quaint, a nice contrast to the living room full of dead animals. Photos of a young boy and girl were hanging on the fridge, along with silly crayon scribble drawings. Must be his grandkids. The kitchen opened up to a small nook, with a table and two chairs placed alongside the window. Locke and I took a seat at the table while Jude leaned up against the counter. Looking out onto the plastic playset outside, I thought back to the idea of children playing so close to something that could kill them with one bite. Their small bodies wouldn’t stand a chance. An adult has at least a little bit of time before the ill effects of the venom fully set in. 

The clanking of glass cups roused me from my thought, and Tom began pouring lemonade from a glass pitcher. 

“You know, taxidermy isn’t as easy as one might think,” Tom said, looking in my direction.

Oh god. I thought we were leaving this topic behind. 

“Yeah? Why do you say that?” I immediately regretted my choice of words. Asking him to tell me more probably wasn’t the wisest choice. 

“Well,” Tom said as he loaded the tall, sweating glasses of lemonade onto a dainty metal tray. He began to walk towards the table. “There are many elements that go into successfully preserving an animal's body, Chris.” His eyes flicked up to meet mine. The quick and unexpected eye contact was enough to send goosebumps up my arms. 

“Really now?” I responded, pathetically trying to terminate a conversation that I wasn’t sure how to shut down. 

Tom exhaled sharply, and I could tell my attempt to end the conversation was not about to work. He set the metal tray onto the table. Upon receiving my glass, I couldn’t drink it fast enough, and I was the first to finish. I didn’t realize how thirsty I was until my lips hit the sweet liquid. Delicious. Locke and Jude downed their beverages just as quickly, and its smooth, sweet tartness seemed to be enough to lighten up the mood for a moment or two.

“Taxidermy only preserves the skin, you see.” The mood quickly reverted to awkward and tense. “ You don’t have the organs, fat, muscle, and cartilage that help form the true structure and shape of the animal. The skin is removed and then mounted on a mannequin in the shape that resembles the animal. That’s the hard part of it all. It’s not the stripping of skin from an animal, it’s creating that perfectly shaped mannequin for the skin and fur to lay atop. It’s a meticulous process if I do say so.”

 The small grin on Tom’s face still remained. It was really starting to piss me off, that smugness of it all. It made his taxidermy talk seem out of spite towards Locke and Jude, as if he was trying to push their buttons, and it seemed to be working. Locke and Jude looked annoyed, but I didn’t take them as the type who easily lost their cool. He was probably just some crazy old kook after all.

“I never knew that about taxidermy,” I said.

I turned my back to the window to face Jude and Tom. The heat must have taken its hold on me because nauseousness began to wave over. Downing a highly sugared drink probably didn’t help. 

“Hey Tom, I’m sorry, but would you mind if I had a glass of water?” I said.

“Not a problem. You look faint, mate. Here, hand me your glass.” said Tom, eyes looking upon me with uncomfortable intent. That smug smile still remained. 

I reached to grab my glass but knocked it onto the linoleum floor with the backside of my knuckles. I watched the glass crash to the ground- I was more out of it than I thought.

Tom casually walked over to the corner of the kitchen and grabbed a broom and dustpan. He began to calmly sweep up the glass. I guess I wouldn’t be getting any water from him today.

“You know gentleman, I have a taxidermy bucket list.”

A wave of confusion and fear rolled over me. What the hell was he talking about? 

I watched as Locke began to lean up against the wall, as a faintness grew upon him as well. Suddenly, Jude crashed to the ground, his head narrowly missing the corner of the small table. 

“What the fuck is going on?!” Locke yelled with his last bit of energy. 

I was passing out, we were all passing out, and before I had the chance to tumble out of my chair, I crossed my arms on top of the table and rested my head atop. My limbs felt so heavy to lift. I could hear glass crunching.  I lifted my head to look forward at Locke, only to see that he was fully slumped against the wall with eyes shut. 

“I only.. one species... left to attempt on my… list… the most difficult...”

The words began to sound more and more warped, like an adult speaking in one of those Peanuts episodes. I kept fading out further and further, and there was nothing I could do. I couldn’t stand, speak, or understand what was going on around me. All I could do was give in to the overwhelming drowsiness.