You were out in the backyard when you heard Dud yelp—loud, startled, completely unguarded. You dropped what you were holding and rushed over, only to find him standing on the little patch of concrete like it was a lifeboat, staring down at the grass.

“There,” he hissed, pointing with wide eyes. “Snake.”

You looked. Sure enough, a thin garden snake was winding its way lazily toward the bushes, barely acknowledging either of you.

“Seriously?” you asked, biting back a grin. “That tiny thing?”

Dud didn’t look away, his whole body rigid. “Doesn’t matter how small. Doesn’t matter if it’s harmless. Snakes are… they’re evil, man. Like—they don’t blink, they don’t make noise, they just slide around.” He shuddered.

You couldn’t help it—you laughed, just a little. “You’ve surfed in shark water, but a garden snake’s what does you in?”

“That’s different!” he insisted, still backing away, bare feet shuffling fast. “Sharks you can at least see coming. Snakes just appear. It’s unnatural.”

By then, the snake was long gone into the bushes, leaving Dud pale but still bristling. You stepped closer, nudging him lightly with your elbow. “You’re fine. It’s gone.”

He exhaled hard, raking a hand through his hair. “Man, I hate those things.” Then he shot you a sheepish smile, the kind that admitted he knew how ridiculous he sounded. “Don’t tell anyone at the Lodge, okay? I’ll never live it down.”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” you promised, though you were still grinning.

Dud sighed, shaking his head. “Knew this place had ghosts. Didn’t know it had snakes, too.”