The Square Snake

Late in the afternoon, the sun fell like golden honey on the packed-earth yard in front of the house. The wife sat on the veranda, quickly picking over greens fresh from the garden. Beside her sat a basket of sweet potatoes waiting to be boiled.

The breeze carried a faint smell of smoke from the kitchen fire. In the areca palm at the head of the lane, a few birds back at their nest were twittering. A mother hen led her chicks off to find a place to sleep. It was a peaceful afternoon, like so many other afternoons in the village.

She knew her husband's ways well. He was a gentle, hardworking man with just one small habit. Whenever he came home, he liked to tell things a little bigger than they really were. The fish he caught was always bigger than the real fish. The rain he got caught in was always heavier than the real rain. She was so used to it that she would just smile and let it pass.

Just then came the thud of running feet out at the gate. Then came her husband's voice, flustered but very pleased with himself.

"Dear, oh dear, today I saw something terrifying. Out on the edge of the rice field, I spotted a snake. Heavens above, the biggest snake anyone has ever seen. It was 20 meters long, and it was very wide, too, dear!"

The wife looked up, her hands still sorting the greens. She did not cry out, and she did not argue. She only gave her husband one very kind look, then asked him gently.

"Oh my, a snake 20 meters long? Just think about it, dear. Twenty meters is longer than our whole yard. It is nearly as long as the road from here to the banyan tree. What snake could ever grow that long?"

Hearing his wife, the husband scratched his head. Come to think of it, she was right. He looked out across the yard, measured it again in his mind, and lowered his voice.

"Well, maybe my eyes played tricks on me. Not 20 meters, then, but it must have been 15 meters, dear. Fifteen meters for certain."

The wife nodded slowly, as if she were doing the sum in her head for him. She set the handful of greens down, taking her time.

"Fifteen meters. Let me see. Fifteen meters is longer than our three-room house, longer even than that straw-thatched roof. I have never seen a snake longer than a whole house. Look again, dear. Look closely."

The husband scratched his head again. The afternoon sun lit up his face, which had turned bright red. He thought for a while, then brought the number down once more.

"All right, maybe I stood too far away, so it looked longer. If not fifteen, then ten meters. Ten meters, exactly ten meters, and that I swear to."

The wife was still unhurried, speaking evenly and softly, like a lullaby. She never once raised her voice. She only asked one more question.

"Ten meters. Dear, the areca palm at the head of our lane is about ten meters tall. Imagine a snake standing straight up, as tall as the top of that palm, all the way up to where those birds are perched. Does that sound right, dear?"

At this the husband gave a sheepish laugh. He knew his wife had a point. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and hesitated a long while. Then he spoke much more quietly.

"Well, maybe I remembered it wrong. It probably was not that long. Fine, let us just say five meters. Only five meters. This time I am telling the truth, not a hair longer."

When she heard that, the wife pressed her lips together to hide a smile that was about to burst out. She put on a serious face to ask her very last question, but her voice was already trembling with laughter.

"All right, our snake is five meters long. I believe that. But a moment ago you said it was very wide, too. So now, how wide is that snake, dear?"

By now the husband only wanted to be done with it. Afraid she would say he was exaggerating again, he blurted out an answer that felt safe.

"Wide? Well, um, five meters, no more than that. Exactly five meters. Five meters long, five meters wide, and that is just right!"

The moment he said it, even he stopped short. As for the wife, she could not hold it in any longer. She dropped the whole handful of greens and clutched her belly, shaking with laughter.

"Oh, my dear, my dear. Listen to what you just said, dear. A snake five meters long, and five meters wide as well. Its length is exactly its width. Then our snake is not long at all. It is as square as a tray, as square as a table! In all my life, this is the first time I have ever heard of a square snake, dear."

The husband was dumbstruck for a second. Then he looked at his two hands, still held out to show the size. One hand marked the length, the other marked the width, and the gap between them was exactly the same. He pictured the snake, as square as a wooden tray. And then he burst out laughing too.

Husband and wife sat in the yard, laughing together until tears ran down their cheeks. Still laughing, the husband shook his head. He knew his old habit had made things bigger than the truth again. From start to finish, his wife had not scolded him once. She had only asked about each number, very kindly, and the snake kept getting shorter until it shrank into a square. She stood up, brushed off her hands, and gently told him to go and wash his face to cool off. The rice and sweet potatoes were nearly cooked.

Grandparents have told this story for generations. Then it was written down in books of folk jokes, so that later generations could read it and laugh. In the village, people still remind each other of it. Whenever someone tells a story bigger than the truth, someone is sure to drop a gentle hint: "Careful, watch out for the square snake."

Out by the rice field, there was no snake at all. There was only the afternoon light, now faded, and the fragrant smoke rising from the kitchen. And in the small yard, the laughter of husband and wife lingered for a long time.