Where did I really first meet Rusti? I often wonder if she is that girl. I think that because of her hair. That could not be. That would be too much coincidence. When I just got out of the military Bro and I took turns helping Jimme get out and about. Otherwise I would take any job that was open. That beginning of summer there was little work in the machine shop yet. The potato harvest was coming in by trucks to the long sheds along the railroad out east of Cottonpaugh. There would be work there boxing and loading the potatoes on to the train.

I got there early and went into the small store across the road from the boxing sheds. With a paper cup of bad coffee I crossed back over. The shed wasn’t opened yet so I walked around back and on to the railway loading dock. At the back next to the wall was a girl about 12 years old. She was holding a bottle of milk. She had a big smile on her freckled face and hair the color of new copper coins. And she showed absolutely no fear of being alone on that deck with me. I smiled back to her and walked away. I never saw her again.

At times I like to think that was the first time I saw Rusti. She was tall like Rusti. I will always remember the hair and freckles, the faded green shirt. And the complete lack of fear. That is why I remember her so clearly. Her total confidence and lack of fear. Still I did not talk to her - my fear of being a pest. Someday I might tell Rusti about all that. I wonder what she will think. Probably that I am being silly. Well maybe I am. But still I don’t think I have ever seen anyone else with that color hair.

Rusti talked to me about her parents once. I did not ask then and did not after that. They were old people just over from Old World when they took her in. She was seven years old. They had a small house near the railroad. They told her they had little to give her but a way to think. That if she could not find something that she needed, to think she could make it herself. If she saw something that could be done better, to think she could do that herself. And she would not find another in a thousand who thought that way. She said she always had that home to return to. I never saw it.

***

Rusti is good to animals. She saw a stand along the road selling Church Snakes. A couple of guys were dancing around holding the snakes above their heads. Rusti stopped. These snakes were nervous wrecks. They hadn’t been eating well.  Snakes are used in the devotions of a couple of the churches out at the edge of town. After a time with all the noise and music and shouting and carrying on the snakes withdraw into themselves. They no longer act properly when being held and shaken. They are supposed to wiggle and hiss and try to bite the faithful. Instead they are limp and trembling.  So the churches go catch new snakes.

Rusti got together with some of her friends and started a Church Snake Rescue. They bought all four snakes from the roadside stand. They built small pens and believed that a time of peace and quiet would help the snakes regain their composure and health. And this worked. After a while the snakes were eating better. Their skins were shinny and healthy looking again.  Muscle tone came back. They enjoy each other’s company in the exercise yard. They were back to wiggling and hissing well. So Rusti and her friends thought it time to release them back into the wilds.

Where to release them? They can’t take them back to the places they come from because they might get caught by some church again. Some thought they might keep the snakes as pets but thought better of this because the snakes have had quite enough of captivity. Since there are only four snakes, some of her friends decided to take them down South to The Basin and turn them loose at the bottom of Wash. There is plenty of room there and since the snakes had become friends they would not be lonely in their new home.