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There were a few gasps from the audience, but there were several discontented murmurs as well.
“Fake,” Dill pronounced.
As though anticipating the reaction, Leng turned back to the audience and said, “Some of you, no doubt, believe that this is a lie, and my brother is merely acting. I ask you to direct your eyes towards the cobra.”
Everyone had forgotten about the snake. Everyone gasped.
The cobra was still, but had turned around to look at the audience.
“Eng’s soul has transmigrated to the serpent. He understands as a human, and is in perfect control of the snake’s body. And the snake has changed places with Eng, as you can see.”
Beside him, Eng’s head whipped wildly back and forth, held back only by the leather straps and the rope from the ceiling. He hissed loudly as he struggled against the bonds.
“You can mesmerize a snake, and you can train it to do simple tricks…but to prove to you that this is no tame serpent, I invite you to call out your own commands from the audience. If the snake is truly Eng, it will understand and obey…will he not?” Leng raised a bony finger and pointed at a girl on the front row. “You, there. What is your bidding?”
“Huh?” the girl asked.
“What do you want the snake to do?”
“Uhhhhh…crawl up on your shoulder?” the girl asked in a scared voice.
Without a second’s hesitation, the snake slid entirely out of the basket and glided towards the chair. It was long, about ten feet in length, and it made for a spectacular sight as it wound its way around one chair leg, up over the robed twins’ lap, and looped itself over Leng’s shoulder.
The audience gasped and cheered.
“Holy CRAP!” Dill shouted.
Leng pointed his finger at a man sitting halfway up the bleachers. “You, sir – what do YOU command?”
“Uhhhh…” the man hesitated.
“Ask it a simple math question,” Leng suggested.
“Uh –what’s two plus four?”
The snake bobbed its head, one, two, three, four, five, six times.
The crowd clapped wildly.
“HOLY CRAP, I gotta get me one of those for pop quizzes!” Dill howled.
“One more. My brother grows tired,” Leng said.
Every kid in the audience (including Dill) raised their hands and jumped up and down, yelling, ‘Ooh, me! Pick me! Me, me!’
Leng pointed at a boy on the second row. “You, boy.”
“Dangit, I knew I shoulda sat on the second row,” Dill muttered.
“I want him to crawl on me!” the boy shouted.
The crowd gasped again and fell silent. Leng smiled – not pleasantly, either. In fact, he reminded Peter of a wolf approaching a sleeping lamb.
“Come up on stage, boy,” Leng whispered.
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Copyright © 2009 Darren Pillsbury. All rights reserved.
