The more pressing issue, though, was how I was going to be able to pee. I covered my face with my hand. I was just in a bathroom, my mother’s voice in the back of my head told me, why didn’t I go then?

~~~~~~~~~~

I left Rebecca and merged into hallway traffic. I probably could have handled that better. Principal’s daughter, I just saved her life, she could help me out some time in the future, maybe later when I grow a libido I’ll start to find her attractive and I can get her to go out with me…but no, pretty much killed those possibilities with the trouser snake line.

Except what with my penis now taking on some rather disturbing herpetological attributes, that growing a libido thing might not ever happen. That was pretty serious wasn’t it? Not being able to sire children? Didn’t really upset me as much as it should have though, because, well I didn’t have a libido. Girls usually made me uncomfortable, but that was mostly because I thought I should feel something and I didn’t. Every now and then I thought I might be gay, but when I tried to find a guy attractive I just felt uncomfortable again because I was still just waiting for something to happen.
The more pressing issue, though, was how I was going to be able to pee. I covered my face with my hand. I was just in a bathroom, my mother’s voice in the back of my head told me, why didn’t I go then? I had been walking toward the nurses office after stopping by a locker cul de sac to retrieve my socks, which had drifted to my belly region anyway, and roll my cargos back down. I was now approaching another set of bathrooms. This time there was a sizable line coming out of the girl’s restroom though, so thanking the flying spaghetti monster for giving me a penis, even if it was recently transmogrified into a snake, I entered the boy’s restroom and tried my luck there.
“This is the men’s room, “ a helpful classmate of mine jeered when I entered, “girls aren’t allowed.” He and another kid were wetting paper towels and slinging them onto the wall. There were three other kids in the room.

I weighed my options for a moment, then went with “Shut the fuck up,” and entered the one unoccupied stall.

I heard snickering and something ending in “…probably has to squat.” But I just let it go. Once again I took down my pants and examined myself. At first I didn’t see anything, which was disconcerting, I had to actually pull on the snake to get it out of the crevice I put it in. It was rather lethargic now. Tired I guess. It was also a bit longer than I remembered. I tried to point its mouth toward the bowl of the toilet, but it didn’t like that and it started fighting me. It felt weird. I couldn’t feel the parts that had turned into a snake, but I could feel the weight of it and the force of its muscles against my crotch.
Then I felt something else weird. One of its movements made the skin around my balls tighten in an odd way. My balls moved up then, into my pelvis somewhere. That happened to me once before when I went swimming before it was really warm enough. This was different, though, because, well it involved my penis being turned into a snake. Also when they traveled to parts unknown the snake seemed to get a little longer. It was a dark green now, with red eyes. Kind of pretty as snakes go, though of course I would have preferred it if it wasn’t attached to me. I felt underneath it while I held its neck with my other hand. There seemed to be a loose pocket underneath and when I put my finger into it I peed a little. Onto my finger.
Oh shit. Was I a girl now? I checked further down, but there was no other aperture other than my anus. Not really a girl then. But lacking the requisite parts to truly be a member in the men’s club for men. Unless you counted the snake, which I didn’t. I had to go, so I sat down on the toilet. I did have to sit down after all.
The snake slithered across my thigh as I sat, exploring its environs. It flicked its tongue a couple times. I looked at the snake, and the snake seemed to look back at me. I got the impression that, were it up to the snake it would rather not be where it was either. We kept looking at each other as the tinkling noises started and then stopped. I think we came to an understanding.
Details at this point aren’t really necessary, except that after I was done, the snake went immediately back between my legs, like it was happy there. I wondered briefly whether it was a male or a female snake. Then I wondered if it appreciated its nose being so close to my asshole. I decided not to wonder so much. I pulled up my pants and got out of there.
I actually felt pretty comfortable. I was used to it having had to deal with it for 13 years and some change, but I usually had to make constant adjustments because my penis would get into some awkward position. But the snake wasn’t part of me, really, and it stayed in place for the most part. It was kind of nice.
The whole not being exactly male thing wasn’t so bad either really. As long as I didn’t have a libido it didn’t really matter what I was, and now that there was no chance of having sex anyway, it made me feel a bit more free. But I was probably in shock or something, I figured. I should still see some one about it.
Except I couldn’t imagine Nurse Garibaldi, sweetheart though she may be in her no-nonsense, body of a lunch lady kind of way, being able to deal with this situation. I gave even odds she would think it was some sort of prank and dismiss me without even checking it out.
Thing was, it WAS some sort of prank, wasn’t it? Just not my prank. That voodoo doll in my locker with snake attached to its crotch, that was probably how this happened. Shaquonda was the one who probably did it to me.
Great, except I had no idea where Shaquonda was. She was probably in school, because of the doll, but she could have had a friend leave it. But I didn’t know Shaquonda from evil. So I was going the right way anyway. The principal’s office was right next to the Nurse’s office. I’d just have to find away to get her schedule.
~~~~~~~~
Movies always make things like this look easy. There’s usually a ginormous book prominently displayed somewhere and all the intrepid hero or heroine has to do is sneeze while ripping out a page. Or there’s a computer sitting patiently on a desk all by its lonesome and the password is the name of the administrator’s cat, which she has a picture of next to the coffemug where she keeps the keys to the filing cabinet.
In real life though, you’ve got to deal with people, because in real life, you aren’t a master lockpicker or computer hacker, and if its not normal work hours, you’re sitting at home watching Star Trek reruns. Or whatever.

The person I had to deal with was Agnes Pritchard. She was a brittle bird of a woman who seemed to like things neat and proper. She had a picture of her family, another of just her grandkids and a picture of her cat, which she kept, oddly enough, next to a coffeemug full of keys. The coffemug had that story about Jesus and the footprints on it. I always wonder what size shoe Jesus would wear after reading that.

I first tried pretending like what I was asking for was perfectly normal. Sometimes that works. “Mrs. Pritchard?”
“May I help you with something?”
“Yes, could you find out what class Shaquonda LaRue is in next period for me please?”
“May I ask what this is in regards to?”
I fought the urge to answer “yes you may.” Or better yet, “no , you may not.” “I…um wanted to apologize for something that happened yesterday, but I don’t know how to get in touch with her.”
“I’m sorry, but you need to be a family member or have some sort of permission from her in order for me to give you that information.”
“Do you have her cell phone number?”
“I can’t give you that either, you understand.”
“No, I mean couldn’t you text something to her for me?”
“Text?” Agnes frowned.
“Or email, or give her a call? Anything?”
I could see Agnes was trying to find a good reason why should couldn’t do that. “I could call her by intercom,” she came out with.
“No, I don’t want the whole school knowing about it!”
“I’m sorry, young man, but I cannot just arrange secret meetings for you with girls you like.”
“I don’t like her! I just want to ask her something! Look I’ll write something down, and give it to you. I don’t even have to be in the room. You call her or whatever, get her answer and let me know. Okay?”
She thought about it, frowned and nodded, handing me a stack of post-it notes and a pen.
I wrote, “How do I lift the snake curse?” and then B. Ash Patterson at the bottom.
Agnes examined the note with the lower part of her bifocals, turned, and keyed the microphone on her desk. “Attention. Shaquonda LaRue, Ash Patterson is in the office and would like to know how to lift the snake curse. Shaquonda LaRue, Ash Patterson is in the office and would like to know how to lift the snake curse.” Agnes smiled, “she should be here any minute now, Ash.”
I had to wait for the wishes to see Agnes in pain to subside. Apparently I wasn’t clear enough about not wanting the call to go out on the intercom. It was cryptic enough though, that it shouldn’t cause any problems. “Thanks,” I said finally.
“You’re welcome. So what did she get you with? Snakes in the bed? Toilet snakes? “
My turn to be stupid. “Wha?”
“Oh don’t be surprised. Everyone thinks they’re the first to be cursed. It happens all the time around here. Big Hoodoo country. I used to get spiders in my coffee all the time before I found God.”
“Wha?”
“It can be hard for a young person to believe. I understand. I was young once too. You’ll find your way eventually.”
“Um…couldn’t I just apologize or something?”
“No, honey, that never works. A curse has to run its course or you have to believe in something stronger.”
“So why did you call her over here if you know it won’t help?”
“She should know better than to go around cursing people like that. God hates witches almost as much as He hates the gays.”