Snake Oil

 

George and I traveled on through the morning, down the dusty trail that followed the river. This wasn’t the River of Creativity. This was a sluggish, silty stream with smelly, muddy banks which were well churned up by the hooves of oxen pulling barges upstream. I was hot, but the thought of a dip in that stream held no allure for me.

“George, I though you said this was a short cut back over to the Serpentine Road,” I complained. “Some short cut! We’ve been on it since noon yesterday!”

“Quit complaining. You were the one who had to go off the road, all the way to that one little town because the people at Pandora’s Wardrobe said they had alpacas and yarn there. You just couldn’t be satisfied with an alpaca cloak to go with your storyteller’s clothes, oh no. You had to go to the source. Now I  have an extra bag full of yarn on my rump. You, lady, have a little problem with yarn. Just a teeny, tiny problem. And now I am an enabler. Do you know how that makes me feel? I am supposed to guide you and keep you from going astray, help you find your true voice, and what do I do? I let you go off on a side trip, way off the Road, for yarn!”

“Yeah, but it’s alpaca!” I smiled dreamily. “Soft, wonderful alpaca. And the colors! I’d love to know what they used to get that shade of blue…”

“See, there you go again!” George gave a little buck and I came back to the present with a thump - in the middle of the trail on my backside.

As I picked myself up from the dust, I happened to glance into a small grove of trees on the side of the trail. “Hey, George, look over there - a wagon! It looks kind of like one of the ones from the circus! Do you want to go see if it is? We need to stop for lunch, anyway…”
“Sure, why not? Maybe they can tell us how much longer we’re going to be on this trail before it joins back up with the Serpentine Road.” George followed me into the copse of trees.

The wagon was bright red, with gold painted trim, and had little doors on the side which were opened up to display goods for sale. I could see bottles and little tins of stuff on the shelves. I was walking over for a closer look when a man came out of the wagon itself.

“Ah, good day to you! Lovely weather we’re having, isn’t it? And what brings you out to such a secluded spot on such a fine day?” The man had about five hundred teeth and they were all showing in a glowing white smile of epic proportions. He had a perfect handlebar moustache and hair so shiny and slick you could see yourself in it. His black suit was a little bit on the shabby side, and the print on his bow tie was a tad too loud. I backed up a little bit. He made me feel a uneasy and just a little dirty.

“Don’t hurry off! I’m Excelsior Smith, Esquire, at your service! As you can see here, I have medicinal goods of all descriptions for sale, and I travel from town to town, helping the populace live the healthiest lives they can!” He smiled again, showing even more teeth, if such a thing were possible.

I backed up some more and then sat down suddenly on a fallen tree as I tripped over it.

“Excellent! You want to see my wares! Let’s see, what sort of goods would you be interested in ….” He turned to the open side of the wagon and began poking at the contents, muttering to himself.

I felt George behind me, pulling at my shirt with his teeth. “Come on, we need to get out of here,” he whispered.

Excelsior Smith turned around at that moment. “What a lovely little donkey you have there!”

George backed up slightly and brayed, his ears laid back and his tail swishing back and forth.

“You, know, I have something special I think you would be interested in - something for someone of discerning taste. Something for the quester, the person seeking something.” He stared at me with piercing eyes. “That would be you, wouldn’t it?”

I don’t know what the man did, but I couldn’t move. I was mesmerized. All I could do was bob my head up and down mindlessly. Somewhere inside of me, I was running away and yelling; I knew this snake oil salesman was bad news. But I just couldn’t move.

As he began his spiel, I sat there and listened, helplessly nodding or shaking my head in all the right places.

His promises were like those of any other snake oil salesman - a bottle of his magic elixir could cure all ailments, solve all problems, and make your life a dream. Dreams, yes, that’s all he was selling, and I knew it.  No doubt something in his secret formula was a narcotic or hallucinogen and would make folks think everything was hunky-dory when in fact it was just the opposite. I knew all this, and probably lots of other folks did, too, which was undoubtedly why he had this little mesmerizing thing worked up. It must have been his eyes, because making eye contact with me was all he had done. I needed to figure out how to break his hold. Meanwhile, he talked eloquently and gestured grandly and smiled stunningly.

As I sat there with my mind racing and my body refusing to obey me, he came to the end of his speech. “Now, isn’t this the most miraculous product you’ve ever heard of? And it does it all, all, with just one dose. Just one dose and you’ll find everything you’ve been looking for, without any of the fuss and bother, without any of the toil and grind! And what is the price for this magical elixir? Why, hardly anything at all, my fine young lady, a mere pittance, almost nothing. Especially considering what this will do for you!” He held up a bottle of dark red liquid, almost the color of blood. A shaft of sunlight streaming through the branches of the trees fell on the bottle, making it glow.

I was fighting myself and managed to keep completely still. I did not want to get caught in this man’s snares. He was worse than any spider.

“Surely you aren’t going to say no, now are you?” He leaned a little closer and I could smell the remains of his lunch on his breath. George brayed again, right next to my ear. I concentrated on George.

He leaned closer still, almost whispering now. “All this magic, in just one bottle, and all for the small price of your donkey. A trade, as it were. Really, when I think what it will cost to feed this beast, you will be getting the best of the bargain - your heart’s desire for a stubborn beast that eats too much.” He stopped, fondling the bottle in his hands right in front of my face.

He may have been able to mesmerize me with just a look, but he could also break the spell with a few ill-chosen words. Trade George!? Never! Fury helped me break free of his hold, and with a yell I tossed my hands up and knocked the bottle from his grasp. It went flying and smashed into a rock, the contents hissing and steaming as they ate into the leafy debris on the ground nearby.

 Excelsior Smith, realizing that his hold on me was broken, gave a cry and ran into his wagon, slamming the door behind him like the coward that he was. I ran for the trail with George following right behind me. I jumped on his back and we galloped away to safety. A few miles later, we slowed down and George said, “That was a close one. I don’t know what sort of magic that man had, but it wasn’t good. He is very, very dangerous!”

“I’ll say. I was fighting with everything I had. It wasn’t until I got mad that I was able to break free of his hold…I’d hate to see what would happen in a town full of unsuspecting and even gullible people! And to try to get his nasty hands on one of Enchanteur’s donkeys!  We need to stop that man somehow.”

“Well,” George smirked, “he won’t be going anywhere for a bit. While he was talking at you, I snuck over and chewed through the ropes holding his horses. Then I led them away. Last I saw, they were on the far side of that muddy mess of a river, heading for parts unknown!” He chuckled.

“Well, that gives us a little time. When we reach the Serpentine Road again, we can let people know what he’s doing. I’m sure Enchanteur could stop him!”

Soon after this, the little trail led away from the water and up into the hills. A few rises later and we could see the Serpentine Road again, sliding away into the distance, and on it, a few donkeys with riders. “At last,” I said. “The Serpentine Road may be hard work, but it’s real, and its rewards are real. They aren’t just snake oil.”

She Wolf (c)2007