A Bit of a Rattlesnake

I heard an old story from an Arkansas friend that reminds me of him. A woman was about to cross a road when she saw a rattlesnake curled up nearby. He looked up at the woman and asked her if she would carry him across the road so he wouldn't be hit by a passing vehicle. She declared firmly, "No, you'll bite me!" The rattlesnake hissed sincerely, "I promise I won't. Please, please take me across. I don't want to die under the wheels of a truck!" He looked so pitiful and vulnerable and pleaded so insistently, she decided she would do it. He bit her the moment they reached the other side. As she was dying, she asked, "Why did you do it? You promised not to bite me." He answered, "Well, you knew I was a rattlesnake."


Miguel was tall, slender, muscular and brown. His back, chest and arms were covered with tattoos. He got them and his well developed frame in prison. He grew up in LA, but he was born in the Mexican state of Chihuahua. His ancestry was part Tarahumara, part Spanish and that heritage was clearly visible in his face. He lived by the gangster code which permits crime and violence, but requires respectful treatment of women and non combatants unless they pose a threat or provide temptation, of course.

He had just served a ten year jail sentence for armed robbery when I met him.  It was hard to imagine this desirable man locked away in a cell with only other men for company. He had only a smattering of education and his English was ungrammatical at best, but he knew just the right words to endear a woman to him. He had a voice so seductively deep and resonant that although his flirtations were obvious, he could conquer women with a few well chosen compliments. He was aided by his good looks and his skill at making himself seem helpless and in need of love.

The women he sought had to be strong as well as attractive. He needed them to support him financially and emotionally. An ex-con and a drug addict, he had a hard time getting jobs that would pay for anything more than his alcohol, cigarette and heroin supplies. Having been viciously beaten and mistreated by his stepfather as a child, and having lived through who knows what horrors while incarcerated, his mental health was fragile. Paranoia was his constant companion and like most who suffer that way he believed his fears, no matter how irrational, to be completely justified. Like the rattlesnake, he never pretended to be any better than he was, but his very existence was a threat to any dream of true love.