Uncle Ben

This is another story I've posted elsewhere. It continues the story of David and his family.

Here is a link to "My name is David": http://www.timebomb2000.com/vb/showthread.php?402324-My-Name-Is-David


Uncle Ben

Part 1

My name is David and I live with my sister Mary Ann and Uncle Ben Fontaine, who adopted us after the bombs fell. We live in Bayou Chicot in Evangeline County in Louisiana, U.S.A. We moved here from New Orleans, Louisiana about two years ago when I was eight. Bayou Chicot is Uncle Ben’s hometown and we live here with his sister, Tante Roshelle. Tante Roshelle’s daughter Latoya, her husband Larry West and their children; Lucille, 8, Lashawn, 6, Tommy, 5, and Kimi, 3, live about 100 yards down the road.

We do many things now to make a living. We have a big garden in the back yard and Auntie Rochelle cans or dries much of the produce. We have apple, pear, cherry, peach, pecan and black walnut trees in the side yard near the chicken coop. On the other side of the orchard is a pig pen where we raise a few pigs each year and a small pasture and shed for our milk goats. Across the road Uncle Ben has 100 acres of land he leases to a farmer for a percentage of the grain he grows for the hogs and chickens feed and for our own flour and cornmeal. At the back of the garden we have a small pier and a pair of pirogues that we can pull onto the bank and turn over to stay dry. We use them to go out on the bayou and catch fish and trap raccoons, bobcats, and nutria, which we call swamp beaver.

Uncle Ben also raises and trains pit bulls. Not to fight other dogs, but as guard dogs for people and their property. Uncle Ben says some people do that, train dogs to fight and kill other dogs just to bet on them and make money, but he says that it’s wrong to treat a dog that way. Pit Bulldogs are very loyal and protective of their people, fighting to the death just because their master asks them to. So Uncle Ben only raises a few dogs and sells them to people he can trust to keep them away from the dog fighters.

David sat back in his chair, put his pencil down and stretched his arms and fingers. This report was going to take forever, which for a ten year old boy is anything more than fifteen minutes. He leaned over and scratched Bozo’s broad brown head and got a lick in return. Bozo glanced toward the door and watched his master a moment, but when David made no effort to rise and go outdoors, Bozo groaned and lay his head back on his paws.

“I know boy, I don’t like being in here any better than you do, but I have to finish this report for Uncle Ben, then we can go out and check the trot-line.” David and his sister were home-schooled by Uncle Ben since they were too far out to go to the township school at Ville Platt about ten miles away. David reread what he had written so far.

Pit Bulldogs; Uncle Ben kept three breeding pairs, but only bred for one litter a year. Uncle Ben’s favorite was his old Sally, he’d had her since before the bombs. Ben had traded some of the supplies he had scavenged in New Orleans for Lucifer, a big black male to mate with Sally. Then there was Mary Ann’s Spot, five years old now and mated with King, a red dog he had traded two pups for two years ago. David’s dog Bozo was bred to a white female, Queenie, and she’d had six pups late that spring, half of which had gone to her old owner. The rest were four months old now, and kept in a pen on the north side of the house. Lucifer, King, and Queenie were chained at night in the orchard and garden to discourage thieves, the rest of the time running loose inside the fenced in yard.

David wondered if he should put anything else about the dogs in the report, then decided one paragraph was enough. He had mentioned how they made a living in enough detail as well. Maybe he could put in some more about the family?

Tante Roshelle was the best cook in the whole parish, turning whatever grew in the garden and whatever Uncle Ben and David brought in from the bayou into fragrant, mouth-watering etouffees, gumbos, desserts and breads. Her pickled peaches were the talk of the township and traders would always accept any of her canned goods as part of a deal.

Latoya and Larry’s family though. . .David had always liked Lucille, and Kimi was alright for a baby. But the two boys seemed to be taking after their Dad, which wasn’t a good thing. Lashawn and Tommy sassed their mere and grand-mere constantly and Larry let them get away with it. Uncle Ben would not allow that kind of disrespect in his home, but Larry told them they were good boys when they did it in his house. And Latoya took it without a word. David had noticed before, that Latoya wore sunglasses sometimes inside the house. One time he had caught her without them and she’d had a black eye. David suspected she had bruises on her arms, he’d seen a few and Latoya often wore long sleeved blouses even in July and August which took some doing in southern Louisiana. He’d asked Lucille about it one time but she mumbled that her mere and pere had a fight and seemed so embarrassed that he’d never brought it up again.

David continued to gaze out the window. Thinking about Larry always reminded him about the people who had stopped at their small house in New Orleans just before they left. The license plates on the old pick-up had said Michigan. He’d looked because working vehicles were so rare three years after the bombs.

He and Mary Ann had been playing with the dogs in the front yard and stood staring as the truck passed by slowly the first time. Uncle Ben had sat on the front porch, Sally by his side and the old 12 gauge single shot propped on the back side of the nearest porch pillar. They listened to the engine as it circled the block to stop in front of the house. A man and woman sat in the front seat, two small children wedged between them. The man got out and came around the front of the car to the gate. He started to open it, which frightened Mary Ann and sent her running to Uncle Ben, who had risen and was standing at the top of the stairs, his right hand only a few inches from the shotgun. Immediately the dogs alerted, standing between their masters and the threat of the man at the gate. He lowered his hand from the latch.

“Morning, it’s a fine day isn’t it?” He’d said nervously, watching the dogs. Uncle Ben only nodded and said, “Surely is.”

The man paused a moment, waiting for Uncle Ben to continue, to ask where he was from, where he was going, waiting for some way to get to his business without being blunt. Uncle Ben only waited, his hand smoothing Mary Ann’s hair as she began to cry, hiding her face against his leg.

“A bit shy isn’t she, I guess you don’t get many visitors around here.” He finally continued. “She’s a pretty little thing, and that’s a fine sturdy boy you have there. Find them after the war?”

“Yes I did.” There was another pause, just as uncomfortable as the first.

“Those are pit bulldogs aren’t they?” the man pointed toward Bozo. Uncle Ben nodded and said they were. “Aren’t you afraid they’ll attack those little children?”

“No, those are actually the children’s dogs. The children know to treat the dogs kindly but firmly and those dogs would die to protect them.”

“Still don’t you think it would be better if those children were with someone who didn’t keep those vicious dogs? Wouldn't they be better off with their own kind of people? We’re moving into the area, we could take them off your hands.”

“No Sir, you will not. I have cared for these children now for three years. I have fed them, sheltered them, and cared for their hurts, large and small. I AM the kind of people they need and not you or anyone else is going to take these children away from me!”

“What about you son? Would you and your sister like to come live with us? Then you could have a family just like you and your sister.” The man hunkered down to David’s level and smiled at him, a big grin that David instinctively distrusted.

David was confused. What did the man mean a family just like him? One thing he did know, Uncle Ben was his family and he never wanted to leave. David shook his head ‘No’ and backed toward the porch.

“I think it’s time you folks got back on the road.” Uncle Ben said.

“Now look,” the man said and tried to open the gate again. Bozo barked and took two steps forward. The man froze, and then backed off. “You can’t keep these children in this environment. My cousin is on the town council and when I get done talking to him we’ll just see what they have to say about you raising them.”

The man had gotten back into his pick-up and driven away. But Uncle Ben had taken the man’s threat seriously and had decided to go back to his hometown, 198 miles away. They had joined a caravan who was headed to Little Rock by way of Shreveport, buying space for themselves and their gear by selling most of their belongings.

David wondered why thinking of Larry reminded him of the man who had wanted to take him away from Uncle Ben. Larry had come from Detroit years before the war, Tante Roshelle had told him, on a weekend trip to make some kind of business deal. Then he’d met Latoya and decided to stay in Louisiana with her. When Larry had seen David and Mary Ann he’d made comments about ‘white bread brats’ and ‘stupid crackers’ which David didn’t understand, but Uncle Ben had been furious. He’d taken Larry aside into the back yard and when they came back Larry hadn’t made those kind of comments again; at least where Uncle Ben could hear them. And it didn’t take David long to figure out that neither he nor Mary Ann should go anywhere near Larry without Uncle Ben around.

That hadn’t kept him from learning more about the West family. Latoya spent most of her day with her mother; who had moved in with Uncle Ben, into the house which had been Uncle Ben’s childhood home. She would make sure that Larry had food prepared for the day then would head for her mere’s kitchen with the children. Latoya helped her mother preserve and make food which they would trade for other items they needed. Larry didn’t work much, just a day job now and again, spending most of his time on their front porch rocking or fishing off their pier in the bayou.

“That report won’t get finished with you staring out the window Son.” Uncle Ben said and thumped David on the head. The blow was more a tousle than a cuff and David looked up to see Uncle Ben smiling down at him. He smiled back. “I can’t say as I blame you though for daydreaming, with a day like that outside. How much do you have done?” Ben looked down at the front side of the page which was already full.

“That looks good so far, but you need to fill up the back side as well. What’s got you stumped, David?”

“Oh Uncle Ben, I started writing about Larry and Latoya and for some reason that reminded me of the man in New Orleans who wanted to take me and Mary Ann away. So I was wondering, why does Larry remind me of that man?”

Ben sighed and sat down on the bed next to David. “I was hoping not to have this conversation with you. Larry reminds you of the man in New Orleans because of they both want to take things that aren’t theirs. And it is easier to take things away from someone when you can believe they don’t deserve them because they are different from you, or that you deserve them because you are different.

“The man in New Orleans wanted you and Mary Ann, probably for the two of you to work for him, not because of what would be best for you. He thought I didn’t deserve you because my skin is different from yours and his, so he would have taken you if he could.

“Larry doesn’t want to work for his living. He thinks people should give him what he wants because he deserves it more than they do. And if he gets a chance he will take it any way he can. Larry will come to a bad end one day, I’m afraid.

“You see David; there is only one thing that is free in this world. That is your life, which is a gift from God. Everything else, your food, your shelter, even your breath and your heartbeat, you have to work for to go on living. That doesn’t mean you have to do everything yourself. There will be times you will need the help of other people, then there will be other times when God will tap you on the shoulder to go and help someone else.”

“Just like you helped me and Mary Ann.”

“That’s right. One of the best things that ever happened to me was finding you two that day.”

David nodded and hugged Uncle Ben. It had been the best thing that had ever happened in David and Mary Ann’s lives as well. Both children had nightmares for months of the weeks spent in the dark cellar, their mother’s corpse still lying on the mattress beside them in the makeshift fallout shelter. When the man in New Orleans had threatened to take them away from Uncle Ben the nightmares had returned until they had traveled to Bayou Chicot.

“That was the best thing that ever happened to us too, Uncle Ben.”

“You’re a good boy David. I think someday soon you’ll be a fine man. Now, why don’t you finish that report, so we can check those trotlines.”

“Ok, I think I’ll write about Bayou Chicot and Ville Platte. That should be enough to fill the back page.”

“Good, then I’ll go get some of that cherry limeade your Tante Roshelle made this morning and wait for you on the front porch.” Uncle Ben tousled David’s hair again and walked out of the room and downstairs. Bozo lifted his head to see if David would go as well, but when David turned back to his report Bozo went back to sleep.

Our house is an old two-story whitewashed brick house on high pilings. Our front and back porches are five feet off the ground because sometimes bad storms come in off the gulf and the bayou floods. Uncle Ben and Tante Roshelle tell stories of when they were children and the flood came all the way up to the porch. Because the house is so high we keep lots of things under the house that are OK outside but we don’t want out in the weather; like Tante Roshelle’s canning jars and lids, camping gear, gardening equipment, and the bicycles.

Uncle Ben says that Bayou Chicot was a very small village even before the bombs fell. Now there are only about seventy-five people here. Ville Platte is the parish seat and is about ten miles from our house. Tante Roshelle says that there were about eight thousand people there before the bombs, now there is only about two thousand even though many people have moved in from the north. Most of the people in Evangeline parish live on farms with only small groups staying in the towns and villages, like Bayou Chicot, Pine Prairie, and Ville Platte.

We do get together from time to time. Last month, in August, we had the parish fair, when many people brought goods and animals to trade; farm produce, animals, and home-made foods and clothing to be entered into contests (Tante Roshelle won six blue ribbons for her canning and baking), and games and dances for children and adults. In October we will have the Cotton festival and Tournoi de la Ville Platt. The Tournoi is just like the knights and ladies in the old days of France. They have a joust, with men in armor on horseback fighting with lances. We elect the oldest man and woman to be Le Roi and La Reine of the Tournoi and then a young, handsome couple to be the Cotton King and Queen at the dance that night. Mr. Boudreaux, the head of the town council, crowns all the Kings and Queens and hands out the prizes at the parish fair.

We also have trade fairs. There are small ones each weekend in the villages like Bayou Chicot and Pine Prairie with just the local people bringing things to trade. But once a month there is a big trade fair in Ville Platt when the travelling trader comes and we go to trade with them. Tante Roshelle and Latoya save most of their canned goods for the traders and they make sure part of the price is more canning equipment. Mr. Martin, our sheriff, is in charge of security at the fairs and makes sure no one gets into trouble throughout the parish at any time.

This is how we live now after the bombs fell. Life is pretty quiet and most people find tending to their own business is enough to deal with. We work when it’s time to work and play when it’s time to play. That’s how life is in Bayou Chicot, Louisiana.

David stretched, stood up and stretched again. He grinned at Bozo, who was on his feet, tail wagging madly, and rubbed the dog’s head. “Let’s go Boy.” David said and ran out of his room, down the stairs and through the hall toward the front door.

“Here now, Boy! How many times do we have to say ‘no running in the house’? Take your running and ripping outdoors!” Tante Roshelle called out as his feet landed in the first floor hallway. Since his hand was already on the screen door latch before she finished the statement, David was happy to comply.

Uncle Ben was looking at him as David came out the door, having heard Tante Roshelle fussing. He shook his head, “Now David, you shouldn’t be acting that way. This big old outdoors isn’t going to vanish before you can get outside. Besides, if you go around annoying the womenfolk’ that-a-way. . .”

“We won’t be bringing you such wonderful treats as we’ve spent all morning making.” Tante Roshelle appeared in the doorway, bearing a tray with a slice of pie and a glass of iced cherry limeade. “Here boy, take your drink and a piece of sweet potato pie.” Tante Roshelle was a large black woman, her grey hair a short, frizzy halo around her head, hidden now by the bandana she wore while she was cooking. Until Uncle Ben and the children had come back from New Orleans she had lived with Larry and Latoya in their small house down the road. While she had been very happy to move back into the big house, Larry had been very upset to lose her cooking.

“I suppose now ya’ll be headed up the bayou to check the trotlines?” she asked.

“Yeah, sis, we’ll do that.” Ben replied.

“Well, try to be back in time to get over to Mr. Hargrove’s. I’m almost out of ice. I reckon ten pounds ought to last through Monday.” The Fontaines didn’t have electricity in their home, but their house had been built before electricity had been available in their rural area and it had been easy to open up the chimneys and install a wood-burning heater and cook-stove. The ice-box had been harder to find, but they had finally found one in an old antique shop’s back shed. It had needed a little repair but Uncle Ben had been able to replace the missing legs, the drip pan, and the shelves inside.

Mr. Hargrove ran the tiny store in Bayou Chicot. Behind his store, which was next door to his own home, he had built an ice house and took weekly deliveries from a man in Ville Platt with a wood gas generator and an ice machine. While the store was only open Friday and Saturday you could go down anytime except Sunday and get ice during the day, as long as someone was home to check out how much you got. A couple of men in the area specialized in cutting wood and traded it with Mr. Hargrove. You could get that anytime as well, again as long as someone could record how much you got. Uncle Ben and David however, cleared deadwood in the forest around the bayou for their heating and cooling, using the wood to pay for their ice. Payment for the ice and wood could be made in trade when the store was open or in labor on Mr. Hargrove’s truck farm. While most people had some coins of gold and silver, they tended to save those to trade with the travelling traders or for the larger local trades, such as animals and farm equipment or for medical care from Doc Campbell.

After finishing his pie and drink David returned the dishes to Latoya in the kitchen while Uncle Ben got the fishing gear and bait from under the house. Fishing for catfish or crawdads, Uncle Ben made a foul smelling mixture of blood saved when they killed livestock and a dough mix Roshelle allowed him to make in her kitchen. Once the dough was made though Tante Roshelle refused to have it anywhere near her immaculate kitchen, so Ben mixed in the blood outside and stored it on high shelves under the house in air-tight containers.

On his way to the pirogues David passed Mary Ann, Lucille, and Kimi having a tea party for their dolls in the side yard, Spot lying contentedly next to Mary Ann. They had finished their school work and snack before him and had been sent out of the way while the women worked on a large batch of apple, peach, and cherry fritters they intended to trade at Mr. Hargrove’s Friday. Latoya called to him as he and Bozo went around the back porch.

“Here Cuz, I’ve wrapped up a little lunch and a water jug for you and Nonc Ben. And some scraps for the dog as well. Good luck with the fishing.” Latoya bent awkwardly down to hand him the jug and package of lunch. She was very pregnant and Tante Roshelle had said the baby was due any day now.

Uncle Ben brought out four racking boxes, four crawdad traps and the blood dough bait. David began loading the gear and lunch while Ben went back for the .38 Special pistol he used for snakes and other varmints. When Uncle Ben returned they began paddling down the bayou toward the first of their trotlines, which Uncle Ben and David had set early that morning.

When they reached the first floats Uncle Ben used a small hook to catch the end of the line and bring it into the boat. As Ben unhooked the fish, David coiled the line into the racking box, setting the hooks into their slots. The racking box was a fourteen inch square box made of wood with four inch high, one inch thick walls. Ten one inch deep slots had been cut into each wall and as David coiled the main line into the bottom of the box he placed each drop line into a slot with the hook hanging just outside the box. This kept the line neatly coiled and the hooks ready to be rebaited.

As Uncle Ben took the fish off the line he set them in a wooden box holding a little water that he had made to fit into the back of the pirogue. Small fish weighing less than a pound he threw back so they could grow larger. After he had cleared and removed the trotline Ben baited a crawdad trap with a fist sized lump of blood dough and attached it to the line which was left attached to a tree and marked with Uncle Ben’s name. Then he dropped the line and trap into the water. He would collect them the next morning when he set the trotlines again.

Uncle Ben’s trotlines held thirty hooks each and after a week in one location he would take his lines from the trees and move them to a new location. Ben had been running trot lines most of the summer and would switch over to trapping at the end of October. Ben traded some of his catfish at the Bayou Chicot and Pine Prairie markets. He kept them alive in barrels under the house, so that they were fresh for the markets. He did the same with the crawdads he caught overnight in the traps.

Some of the catfish and crawdads Ben caught Tante Roshelle canned. She did the same with some of their chickens when they slaughtered more than could be eaten immediately. Of course, you couldn’t fry or roast the canned meat, but it made wonderful salads and casseroles. Most of their pork was either smoked or, in the case of sausages and bacon or large roasts, were cooked or simply submerged in melted fat or brine which would keep the meat fresh until it was exposed to the air.

On the third trotline Uncle Ben spotted a short knobby log floating near a couple of the floats on the main line. Instead of pulling in the trotline Ben took one of the pieces of brick they used for weights on the trotline and tossed it onto the log. A five foot gator exploded in the water, thrashing wildly and tangling himself tighter in the trotline. Bozo barked at the gator, but showed no inclination to go into the water with the scaly beast. Soon the thrashing stopped and Uncle Ben took careful aim and shot the gator in the eye, killing it.

Uncle Ben pulled in the gator along with the trotline. Binding its jaws and legs just to be sure it was immobilized; he laid the carcass in the bottom of the pirogue. Then they finished pulling in the trotlines and headed toward home.

When they reached the pier Lashawn and Tommy were waiting for them. “Nonc Ben! Maman and Grand-mere are upstairs! Our little brother or sister is coming!” As they carried the catfish, gator, and gear back to the house they saw the girls on the back porch.

“Grand-mere said we should stay outside, Nonc Ben.” Lucille said. Ben nodded and continued to put the gear and fish under the house. The gator went on a gambling stick which hung from a beam protruding from the chicken house.

Ben went into the house and called Roshelle from the top of the stairs. He asked if they needed Mama Adrien, the local herbalist and midwife. Roshelle had already called another neighbor but agreed that Mama Adrien should come as soon as possible. Ben went back downstairs and called David to come along under the house.

“I have to ride over to Pine Prairie and get Mama Adrien. I want you to come as far as Mr. Hargrove’s and get the ice Tante Roshelle wants. OK?” David agreed and put the insulated panniers Uncle Ben and Tante Roshelle had made on his bike, a 24 inch red three speed that he had worked all summer for the year before. After telling the other children to stay in the yard and behave, he and Uncle Ben rode their bikes toward Bayou Chicot.

It didn’t take long to get there on the bicycles; Bayou Chicot was only two miles from their house. Uncle Ben knocked on Mr. Hargrove’s back door and soon Cynthia, Mr. Hargrove’s daughter, answered and unlocked the ice house, recording in a notebook, which Ben signed as well, that was kept in a box on the ice house wall, the two five pound blocks that Ben and David slid into the plastic lined panniers. Thickly quilted with cotton batting, lined inside with plastic sheeting the panniers kept ice blocks from melting for the short ride back home even in July and August. David had a rack over his rear wheel for small loads with brackets attached so that panniers could be hung on each side. Besides the quilted bags, David had his own set of leather bags made from cowhide and a set of willow baskets with lids that could be removed if needed. Uncle Ben had even made him a small bike cart that could be attached to a mount Ben had put on the bike with the rack, so that he could help carry loads to and from the markets.

David pedaled back up the road toward the house as Uncle Ben sped away toward Pine Prairie; three miles further west down the St. Landry road. Neither of them had any worries about a boy traveling alone, there hadn’t been any reports of strangers in the area for weeks. All the people in the parish knew each other and looked out for each other, often visiting friends or acquaintances as much as five miles away. Farmers in the fields often went armed, more for the chance of a squirrel or rabbit in the pot than for fear of attack. Many of the more prosperous farms had generators and radios to stay in touch with people in the parish or even out of state if they had a ham radio setup. People traveling through were quickly spotted and neighbors were notified, even if for nothing more than a new topic of gossip.

Returning home, David slid the blocks of ice into their box at the top of the ice chest and stored his bike and the insulated bags in their proper places. Uncle Ben was very strict about putting things away, saying that if you can’t find it you don’t have it and he needed everything he had. Then he went to the back porch where Mary Ann, Lucille, and Kimi were still waiting. Lashawn and Tommy were over in the side yard playing a game of Tag. After a little while though David got bored and went inside to the small library they had on a bookcase in the parlor and got a book about King Arthur and his knights and began to read. The girls wanted to hear the story too, so he began to read aloud.

About an hour later Uncle Ben was back, Mama Adrien in her pony cart trotting along behind him. Mama Adrien dipped out some of the hot water in the tank on the side of the cook stove and scrubbed her hands before heading upstairs to the bedroom where Latoya labored. Then all anyone downstairs could do was wait. Uncle Ben praised David for reading to the girls and insisted that he wanted to hear the story as well, so David kept on reading. Even Lashawn and Tommy eventually came and sat down to hear the tale.

The wait after Mama Adrien arrived was not long though. Little more than an hour later, the group on the back porch heard the newborn’s cries as it wailed its displeasure on leaving its mother’s warm belly. After a few more minutes, Miz Carroll, the neighbor Tante Roshelle had called, came down and announced that Latoya had another son, a fine healthy boy she and Larry had already decided to call Luke Sebastian.

Lucille and the little ones ran home to tell their father the news of his new son and that Latoya would be staying with Tante Roshelle for the next two weeks. Uncle Ben and David went to dress and skin the gator hanging on the butchering post. They would eat and sell the meat, but Uncle Ben tanned all the skins he was able to trap as well as those from his pigs and goats. Some of the neighbors brought hides for him to do for them and Ben bought other hides from farmers when they butchered livestock as well. Ben was a good tanner and could craft many leather goods as well; harnesses, saddlebags, even purses and wallets. He would cut out patterns for gloves and coats but Tante Roshelle did the stitching on those so that both could get some income.

Oh Yeah!!!

Thank you

Thank you for posting your story here and for the link to the first book.

Both stories are must reads, they are that good.

Thank you for the new story. I am in out of the heat for a bit.

I remember "My name is David", I think I read it at 'the other place'
The thing I liked about it is the way its written from the child's POV, the short simple sentences (or even paragraphs) that are almost statements.
"Uncle Ben" has the same 'feel' to it, as something that could be written by a child (abet, an older one as David is now ten) ....But I, as an adult, can read into it the backstory that touches on subjects that we can hope children will be unaware of.

I hope that there will be more to this one

Thank you for the new story. It's a nice continuation of the first one.

Kathy in FL said:

Both stories are must reads, they are that good.

Click to expand...

Thank you so much Kathy!! Such praise coming from you is truly appreciated. You're one of my favorite writers, right up there with Stephen King.

For those of you wanting more of this story, I'll be posting a chapter a day hopefully. It's a short story though and I lost the work I had done on David's next adventure. I am planning on rewriting it, but it will take awhile.


sheilab15

Part 2


Once again, after Luke’s birth life settled down into its usual routine. David did his schoolwork and went fishing with Uncle Ben. Larry grumbled a bit about Latoya staying so long at her mother’s, but since Lucille carried his meals down regularly and tidied up the house, he didn’t really have much to complain about. Everyone was looking forward to the Cotton festival and Tournoi de la Ville Platt. The men who would take part in the joust shone their armor and all the girls insisted on new dresses for the dances. The children David’s age looked forward more to the special treats that would be sold at booths by the ladies and the games they would enter for the small prizes. Tante Roshelle got busy in her kitchen cooking the treats she and Latoya would sell at their booth and Uncle Ben got his leather products ready for display.

The festival was the best one ever, which people said every year, and although there were a few fights among the young men no one was seriously hurt. David won first place shooting targets in his age group with his slingshot; a Case Stockman knife, while Uncle Ben won a turkey and a fifty pound shoat (a young castrated hog) in the turkey shoot. Mr. Boudreaux made a startling announcement on the last day of the festival however; the town council had gotten equipment for four horse drawn buses and enough books and supplies to begin two new schools, one in Pine Prairie and the other in Mamou. The buses would run along the main roads for three miles on each side of the villages and children who could reach the buses would be expected to attend school.

There was a lot of other talk about when school would be in session, how parents would be expected to provide materials for their children’s education, and payment for the teachers and bus drivers, but David looked at Uncle Ben with excited eyes. Now he could meet other children outside of their neighbors and church and have a real school with a real teacher.

Of course the reality soon brought the high expectations down to earth and David, Mary Ann, Lucille and Lashawn soon realized they would have to work hard at school. Lashawn in particular had to be disciplined to do his work and not disrupt the class. They studied math, English, French, science and history. Each child was given an aptitude test to find his grade level their first day at school and after that tests were given weekly and at the end of each semester to track their progress.

The children would walk to Mr. Hargrave’s store to arrive each morning at 7:00 a.m. to catch the bus which left the store at 7:15 and arrived in Pine Prairie at 7:50. Bozo and Spot followed the children to the store and the Hargrave’s soon grew used to the dogs which went back home when the children left, to return when the children came back about 3:30 p.m.

Thanksgiving and Christmas soon came and went. Since David was in school he was unable to go with Uncle Ben on his trap line in the bayou as he had done before. In the spring there was a short break at school so the children could help their parents put in crops and gardens on their farms, but they soon were back and school let out for good at the end of May.

David went to work with Uncle Ben in the garden and on the trotline. He was eleven now and starting to grow taller. For a couple of weeks everything was good but one night Latoya brought all the children but little Luke up to Tante Roshelle. David woke up when Uncle Ben opened the door and laid out blankets for Lashawn and Tommy on the floor.

“Luke is very sick, David, and the children need to stay here while Tante Roshelle and Latoya nurse him. I have to go get Mama Adrien, but I’ll lock up so you can go back to sleep.” David nodded sleepily and went back to sleep when Uncle Ben left and closed the door.

The next morning Uncle Ben cooked breakfast for the children and explained that Luke had caught the stomach flu and they were not allowed to go to the West’s house until he was over it so that they wouldn’t catch it. Mama Adrien was treating the baby with blackberry root tea with willow bark and glasses of boiled and cooled water; one mixed with ¼ teaspoon of baking soda, the other with a mixture of lemon juice, corn syrup, honey and a little salt. On the morning of the third day however, Tante Roshelle called Uncle Ben to the front gate.

“You need to get down to Ville Platte frère. The bebe’s not getting any better and Mama Adrien says we need to call Dr. Campbell.” She said.

Uncle Ben shook his head, “I’ll leave right away but you know it’s going to take an hour to get there and back and that’s if the doctor doesn’t have another case first.”

“I know, but we’ll just have to hold on. I’m not sure how long that little bebe can go on like this.” Tante Roshelle turned away and walked back to the small house while Ben went into the house to tell the children he was leaving and they would have to behave. Then he got on his bicycle and began the ten mile trip to Ville Platt. Dr. Campbell had his own truck and would be able to give Ben and his bike a ride back to Bayou Chicot.

Ben was back with the doctor in an hour and a half, but it was too late. They could hear Tante Roshelle and Latoya wailing as they pulled up to the house and Mama Adrien and Larry were waiting on the front porch. Looking up the road, Ben could see David and the other children standing at the yard gate. Dr. Campbell went inside anyway and examined Luke for the death certificate. He gave instructions to the women to boil and sanitize everything they had touched or used to treat the baby before letting the other children come back home and asked Uncle Ben to call a few of the neighbors to come by and help Latoya over the next few days. He left a copy of the death certificate with them for the church and took the original to Ville Platte to be entered into the parish records. Then he climbed back into his truck and headed back to Ville Platte while Uncle Ben walked his bike up the road to break the news to the children.

Luke Sebastian West was buried in the church’s graveyard alongside the Fontaine family’s other plots. The day was breezy and cool for mid June and the service was well attended. Looking around the graveyard David noticed that many of the older graves were those of young children while after 1950 most of the graves were for older people. Uncle Ben saw him reading the tombstones and joined him. David pointed out the many children’s’ graves and asked him why.

“Back in the old days before the fifties we didn’t have much modern medicine around here. People didn’t have antibiotics to cure infections or medicines to bring down fevers or immunizations that kept children from getting diseases like measles, mumps and the whooping cough. A lot of children died of those diseases and things like the stomach flu just like Luke. I guess now that we don’t have factories that make those medicines anymore or universities to teach doctors or chemists how to use or make them we’re going to have a lot more young children die again. I’m not telling you this to scare you David, but to prepare you. A lot of the modern medicines are still around right now, but we can’t make anymore and when you’re old enough to have children the herbal practitioners will probably be the best at curing diseases while people like Dr. Campbell will be doing surgeries and setting bones and dealing with other kinds of injuries.”

Uncle Ben walked David back to Tante Roshelle, Latoya, Larry and the rest of the children and slowly they walked back home. At the gate to his house Larry pulled Uncle Ben aside while the women and children went on inside. After a few minutes Uncle Ben came to the door and called Tante Roshelle and the children to come along home. Walking back all of them could tell Uncle Ben was furious.

“What’s wrong Uncle Ben?” David asked later when they had changed out of their Sunday clothes.

“Larry West! I have told him before I will not sell dogs to any dog fighters but he just keeps on asking for them. He keeps saying we can make a lot of hard cash selling them to fight. He just can’t get his head around the fact there is more to this world than money. But I’ve gotten his plans shot down again and now he’s angry with me. It’ll be alright though, Son; we’ll just have to keep an eye on Larry for a while until he cools off.”

Thank you

Thank you for the new chapter.

Very good. Thank you.

Look's like the start of a good'n.
Thank you for sharing with us.
Matt

Part 3



As the days of summer passed Larry may have cooled off but the weather didn’t. It got hot and stayed hot. Two and then three weeks went by with no rain. The farmers were starting to look a little anxious and the lack of rain was the main topic whenever two or three got together.

To escape the heat David, Lucille, and Mary Ann went back in the woods and set up a camp on the banks of a small creek. They found an abandoned hog shed, which had three plank sides and a tin roof. They dug a fire pit in front of the small shed, set up some green sticks for a spit, and tied a rope swing on a tree over a nearby hole in the creek. After they set it up David, Mary Ann, and Lucille would paddle one pirogue to camp with Uncle Ben following, then David would run the trotline with Uncle Ben and return to the camp for the rest of the day. They would spend the days roaming through the woods and fields, swimming in the creek whenever it got too hot. Uncle Ben would have them look up the animals, plants, and insects they found in reference books in the Pine Prairie library and write reports on them in help their education.

Finally one night the wind began to blow. All night people could hear rustling leaves, wind chimes, and the window panes creak in the windows as the winds ebbed and flowed, always coming from the south. After breakfast the rain began, coming down hard for the first hour or so then settling down into a steady rain that was putting nearly a half inch an hour into the rain gauges.

Just before lunch Uncle Ben opened the door to the chicken coop and ran the chickens outside and shut the door, chaining Lucifer, King and Queenie up first. Then he went down to Mr. Hargrave’s house and asked him to radio a message to a friend of his in Pine Prairie. About 1:30 p.m. one of Mr. Hargrave’s grandchildren brought the answer back. Tante Roshelle gave him a piece of pecan pie and lemonade as a reward. An hour later a pickup truck with animal sides on and a trailer pulled up the drive and stopped by the pig and goat enclosures.

By that time the water was over the pier and Uncle Ben asked if his friend Mr. Maison and his two teen-aged sons would help move Latoya and Larry’s things to the big house. With the truck and trailer it only took one trip, as Latoya and Larry and all the children moved up to the big house through the rain. Their small house was only built three feet off the ground and on lower ground than Uncle Ben’s house. They brought along their food and clothes and anything else that would be ruined by water.

Then the men and David herded the fractious pigs and goats into the truck and loaded the trailer with all of the animals’ food and hay and Uncle Ben’s bike. The Maison’s and Uncle Ben drove away, leaving David to watch them go from the front yard. While they were gone Tante Roshelle, Latoya, David, Mary Ann and Lucille began to clean out the storage under Ben’s house of anything that would be damaged in the flood, taking it to the attic.

When Ben got back he moved the dog’s chains and the pirogues onto the back porch. Then everyone went to the field across the road and began filling burlap bags, saved and scavenged from other years, with dirt. They carried the bags to the house and put them on the porches, building a barricade four feet high to keep out the water if it got that high. Throughout the night the rain continued while the chickens perched miserably in the orchard trees.

The second morning the rain still had not slacked off at all. The water was already over four of the six steps that led to the porches. That morning Tante Roshelle put the chicken’s feed and water, which she dipped from the flood, on the front porch, it being close enough to the trees for the chickens to fly to it. Since their well was underwater, Tante Roshelle dipped their own drinking water into large jugs to allow it to settle, then carefully poured off the clearer water and boiled it before allowing the family to drink it. Toilet functions had to be performed in old slop jars that had been collected over the years like the bags used to make their wall around the porches. These were emptied into a barrel on the back porch which had been under the house holding the live catfish from the trotline.

Otherwise life went on as near normal as possible. Uncle Ben gave lesson assignments to the children as he had done before the school at Pine Prairie began to keep them busy during the morning. The adults did chores around the house or read or watched the waters rise.

As usual Mary Ann and Lucille finished their lessons first and headed to the attic. Storing the West’s belongings and their own from under the house there had opened a Pandora’s Box of possibilities for the girls when they had seen the boxes and trunks already stored there and the girls wasted no time diving into them. About eleven o’clock the girls came running down the stairs and into the kitchen.

“Uncle Ben, Tante Roshelle! Look what we found upstairs!” The girls were holding two pairs of gourd maracas, a tambourine, a triangle, and a small hand drum. “And there’s more than this in one of the trunks upstairs! An accordion, two fiddles and a big guitar! Come look!” As Lashawn and Tommy came in, drawn by the noise, the girls handed them one of the maracas sets and the hand drum. The young boys immediately began shaking and pounding their new treasures.

“I’ll come,” Uncle Ben replied as he stood up from the kitchen table. “Looks like you found the instruments from Uncle Shorty Belle’s band.” David had finished his lessons by this time and followed along as they returned to the attic.

Uncle Ben kept the younger boys back as they opened the cases holding the other instruments, which looked to be in fine shape, as he explained to the children, Latoya and Larry that Uncle Shorty Belle was his uncle who had been a great fiddle player in a Cajun band during the 1950’s.

“Sure, they played all the juke joints, Mason halls, parties for miles around. They even made a few recordings with old Floyd Soileau down in Ville Platte. You know, David, if you go down there and can find any of those Soileau’s still around I’ll bet they’ve got sheet music and books and recordings on how you can play these instruments.” David had picked up each of the instruments as it had been opened and examined it carefully, somehow managing to play or wheeze out a few notes before putting it back in its case. Now he had one of the violins cradled to his chest, examining it closely.

Lashawn especially seemed taken by his hand drum, refusing to trade it with his brother, but treating it with a kind of respect Uncle Ben and Latoya had never seen him give to anything else that had caught his fancy. When Uncle Ben had taken out the big acoustic bass guitar his face had lit up with wonder and he had reverently strummed his fingers over the out of tune strings before it had been put away.

As they put the last of the instruments away, Uncle Ben looked up at the tin roof only a few inches above his head. “Ya’ll know, I think that rain may be starting to slack off. It might be over soon.” Everyone listened and did agree that the rain didn’t seem to be pounding down as hard as it had been earlier.

Sure enough the rain tapered off during the afternoon and by five o’clock it was finally over. The water continued to rise though, as all the small creeks and springs added their floods to the bayou. But the Fontaines were confident now that they could ride out this flood as they had others in the past.

When David woke up on the third morning the water had crested within a few inches of the top of the sand bags on the porches and Uncle Ben decided the flood was about twelve and a half feet deep, taking into account that the house was about four feet above the normal level of the bayou. From the second story of the house they could see the brown water stretching away over the fields westward, past the tree line a quarter mile away.

So after their lessons they simply sat on the porch and watched the water slowly flow past the steps. Lashawn and the older girls tapped out rhythms on their new instruments as David scraped through a few easy pieces as Tommy and Kimi tried to dance to them. Just after supper Ben and the other adults were sitting around the kitchen table with cups of chicory coffee when uproar was heard on the front porch and Lucille dashed into the kitchen. “Nonc Ben, Nonc Ben! Oh come quick! A snake is on the porch and Bozo is trying to kill it!”

While the other adults ran to the front porch, Uncle Ben ran to his room to get his pistol, but by the time he got to the porch it was over. The snake, a copperhead, lay dead on the top step and David was kneeling beside Bozo, frantically searching for any snakebites. Fortunately Bozo had gripped the snake close enough behind its’ head and snapped its’ back quickly enough that he had not been bitten. Uncle Ben got a broom and a burlap sack and collected the snake.

“He’s alright, Uncle Ben! He’s alright!” David sobbed and buried his face in Bozo’s short fur.

“Yes-sirree-bob, he’s a fighter alright!” Larry yelled. Uncle Ben shot him a hard look and Larry subsided, mumbling to himself about some people not knowing a good thing when they saw it.

On Friday, Uncle Ben and the rest of the family loaded up the pirogues and went to Mr. Hargrave’s. They had to land the dugouts about half way there and walk the rest of the way, their trade goods in back packs, but it was great to be out of the house at last. At the store Tante Roshelle had to trade for milk and eggs, the goats being in Pine Prairie and the hens laying eggs on the porch where Sally, Spot and Bozo got to them before Tante Roshelle.

They weren’t able to get any ice, the road between Bayou Chicot and Ville Platt was flooded and the delivery truck hadn’t been able to get through. But many of the local farmers managed to make it to the small store and much of the day was spent in telling and retelling just how bad this flood had been at their homes and comparing it to past floods.

Gradually the waters receded, taking two weeks to finally reach normal levels in the creeks and bayous. Flooded fields held water for another week until the sun could dry them out, the earth being too saturated to hold any more water. Many of the crops were ruined, the half grown plants drowned by the acres of water. The winter would be a hard one; much of what crops did ripen would have to be saved for next year’s seed.

After the water drained from Latoya and Larry’s home David expected them to start cleaning up and repairing the water damage so they could move back in. But Larry made no effort to return to his home, even stopping Latoya from going back herself to clean. It seemed that he had decided that living with Uncle Ben and Tante Roshelle would be just fine, no matter how crowded everyone was.

Uncle Ben said something to Larry once about it; David saw them talking together, but Larry had left the house saying he was headed toward Ville Platte and wouldn’t be back for a couple of days. After he left Latoya and everyone else went over to the small house to begin the clean-up.

Water marks were six feet high on the walls inside the house and they had to start by shoveling out the mud and debris on the floor. By the second day all the mud was cleared out and the damaged wallpaper and flooring removed. Ben went to Mr. Hargrave’s to begin negotiations for fresh paint or wallpaper to put up, but it seemed likely that it would take a few weeks before any would be available with so many people wanting it at the time. There was a family in Pine Prairie that ran a saw-mill and Uncle Ben placed an order with him for maple planks for flooring, but he had more orders than he could make as well and it would be months before the order could be filled.

The second floor bedrooms were all clean and safe to use so Uncle Ben got enough planks to repair the porch in front of the door and from the door to the stairway and Latoya and the children moved their bedding and clothes back into their house. The outhouse needed to have a new hole dug and the old one filled in, but it had been a sturdy little building and could be moved. Then they would be able to sleep in their own home at least.

Thank you for the new chapter.

Nice thank you .

Part 4



A week went by without any sign of Larry West. Then one afternoon as Uncle Ben and David, with Bozo at heel as usual, were bringing back the day’s catch from the trotline around the side of the house to the barrel (which had been scrubbed and filled with boiling water and scrubbed again before rinsing thoroughly, once with bleach) Larry came walking around the side of the house toward them.

“Hey there, “Uncle Ben”” the young man said in a sneering tone of voice. “How you been? Man I tell you, I got something you should see. Gonna blow your socks off.” Larry laughed a little and led the way back to the front yard.

When the group rounded the corner of the house they saw Mary Ann and Lucille kneeling in the yard with their arms over Spot and King and Queenie and Lucifer. Tante Roshelle and Latoya were on the front porch holding onto each other, while almost unnoticed the boys and Kimi stared wide-eyed from the front door. And a strange man was holding Sally’s collar in a choking grip. Suddenly Larry grabbed Bozo’s collar and began dragging him over to the stranger.

“Bozo!” David yelled. Uncle Ben grabbed his arm and sat David down in the grass. “Stay still son!” Uncle Ben said.

“Larry,” Ben called out, “You can’t get away with this. Think about what you’re doing!”

Larry straightened up, holding Bozo’s front feet in the air. Holding onto the pit bulldog’s collar with one hand he reached around his back and pulled a snub-nosed .38 out of a belt holster. “I’m done listening to you old man! Think about this!” and Larry aimed the pistol toward Uncle Ben and began to pull the trigger.

Everything seemed to happen at once then. “No! Bozo help!” David screamed desperately. Bozo twisted in his collar, choking, but still driving to close his jaws in Larry’s belly. Sally saw the threat to her master and broke free of the stranger’s grip, dashing across the yard to take a grip on the back of Larry’s leg just above the knee, trying to hamstring him and bring him down. The remaining dogs broke free of the girls’ feeble grips; all four of them going for Larry like eighty pound missiles. The gun went off and Uncle Ben grunted, falling from the shock of the bullet’s impact in his chest. The stranger gave a shocked gasp and dove around the bumper of the old white Ford parked by the front gate, going for the door and trying to get into the driver’s seat. Tante Roshelle and Latoya seemed to fly off the porch and landed in the yard to snatch up the girls and drag them back to the porch. David knelt over Uncle Ben, patting at the spreading blood helplessly. The stranger finally got the old truck started and spun out getting back on the road where he disappeared in a cloud of white dust. All of them tried to ignore the sounds of the dogs and Larry’s rapidly weakening screams. Soon though Larry was silent and the dogs left the red thing lying in the yard. Bozo and Sally came over to David and Ben and lay down next to them, nosing at their hands or faces for attention and reassurance.

Tante Roshelle recovered first. She pushed Latoya and Mary Ann towards the kitchen, “Get start boiling water and get all the bandages you can, tear up some sheets or tablecloths if you have to. Lucille, you know where Mama Adrien lives? Yes? Well get David’s bike and get going. And if you pass anyone in a truck get a ride with them, it’ll be faster.”

Roshelle came back down the stairs and bent down over David and Uncle Ben. Uncle Ben was breathing shallowly and rapidly, but he was conscious, watching his sister as she bent above him. “Easy frère, be easy now. We will take you inside to your bed and David will bring the docteur right along.” She reached out to grab David’s arm and shake it a little. “David, go now and get the afghan off the sofa in the parlor. Bring Latoya and help us carry Ben up to his room. I’ll stay till you come back.”

David bounced to his feet and ran into the house. He saw Lashawn, Tommy and Kimi still standing in the hallway, Kimi with her thumb firmly in her mouth. He hugged her a moment and turned to Lashawn, “Ya’ll need to go on now upstairs to my room. You wait there until this gets straightened out. You can even play with those old toys of mine if you like, and get a dolly for Kimi from Mary Ann’s room.” Lashawn nodded solemnly, his eyes still wide and staring in his face, then took his brother and sister by the hand and led them upstairs.

Running into the parlor, David grabbed the big orange afghan from the sofa and ran on to the kitchen. Latoya had stirred up the fire and was busy ripping up a tablecloth for bandages and Mary Ann was just coming in with a bucket of well water. “Here Latoya,” David said, “Tante Roshelle wants you to help carry Uncle Ben upstairs to his bed.”

“All right Cuz. Mary Ann, get the big pot out of the cabinet and put it on the stove and pour in the water. Then go and draw another bucket from the well, I don’t know how much we’ll need.” Latoya grabbed the afghan from David and ran for the front door. David stopped his sister as she turned to the back door.

“Mary Ann listen, this is important.” David saw the tear tracks down his sister’s face. He wanted to just sit down and cry too, but there was too much to be done just now. “When Lucille gets back I want the two of you to get all the dogs and their chains into the pirogues and take them to our camp. Take enough food for them and me for three days. I’ll come in Latoya’s pirogue as soon as I get back. I’ve got to go get the doctor.”

“But David, why? You need to stay here with us to help Uncle Ben get doctored up. And why take the dogs?”

“You remember what happened when that terrier of Miz Carroll’s killed Mr. Renault’s chickens? Mr. Martin had to come and kill him. Well what’d’ you think they’ll do to the dogs for killing a man? I’m not letting them kill Bozo or Spot or Sally when they were just protecting us so we’re going to the bayou.”

“David!” The children jumped a little to hear Tante Roshelle call from the yard. “You do what I said Mary Ann. I’ve got to go.” David turned from his sister and ran to the front porch, where Tante Roshelle was just setting her foot on the front steps.

“Get down here boy, we need you to help carry Ben upstairs.” Tante Roshelle and Latoya took the corners and sides of the afghan nearest to Uncle Ben’s head and let David grab the end near his feet. Carefully they lifted Uncle Ben and began moving him up the stairs to the porch, through the hall, and upstairs to his bedroom.

David could feel the tears flowing down his face as he looked at the man who had become closer than his own barely remembered father lying ashen and still in the makeshift sling. Knowing he had to get to Ville Platte to Doctor Campbell’s he concentrated on remembering the route that he would need to take to get there in the least amount of time.

By the time Uncle Ben was laid in his bed twenty minutes had passed since he had been shot. Tante Roshelle walked him out of the room as Latoya began examining the extent of Ben’s wound. “Now you need to fly little Cuz on that big bike of Ben’s. Head south and get on 3042, it’ll save you a few miles rather than going by Bayou Chicot.” David nodded; he’d already decided that would be the fastest way to go. “Going that way you probably won’t see anyone with a truck, but if Lucille gets a ride we’ll send them after you. God speed you David.” Tante Roshelle hugged him and watched him fly down the stairs and hit the door running; for once she didn’t fuss about running in the house.

It was hard for David to get the big green bike started, his legs weren’t long enough to reach the pedals very well, even with the seat as low as it would go. It was even harder to convince Bozo to stay home; and David’s last sight of the big brown dog was of him standing by the driveway, watching him. But after a few minutes he had the bike rolling smoothly down the road toward Ville Platte. Fortunately the road was mostly level and straight. He was almost half-way to Ville Platt when he heard the horn blare behind him.

Looking back David saw a shiny black Ford diesel rushing down the road toward him, dust boiling out from under its wheels. As the truck passed him the driver hit the brakes and squalled to a stop. David stopped too and looked inside the truck at Mr. Beau Davis, a farmer from Pine Prairie.

“Get in Son, time’s awasting!” Mr. Beau slammed the truck into Park and hopped out the door, meeting David by the tail gate and hoisting the big bike into the truck-bed without letting the gate down. David ran back to the door and climbed into the high seat just as Mr. Beau slammed the transmission back into Drive and mashed the gas pedal to the floor. The truck took off towards Ville Platte with a diesel roar and spinning tires.

For the ten minutes it took to get to Doc Campbell’s office in his Ville Platte home, Beau Davis kept up a non-stop dialog on how he’d seen Lucille, “la petite fille”, struggling with David’s bike on the road to Pine Prairie and picked her up and rushed her to Mama Adrien’s and then drove the both of them back to Uncle Ben’s, then headed straight out to get David and “le Docteur.” How he’d always known Larry West would come to a bad end, everyone had known that since he’d come down from Detroit with those drug runners, just a matter of time really. But what the dogs had done to him, “par le bon Dieu et tous les saints” he wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

The dialog didn’t slow down even when they had Doc Campbell and his black bag in the truck with them racing northwards back to Bayou Chicot. By now the dialog had shifted to giving thanks that he’d even been out “in this big ole truck” and how he was going to have to be saving gas until next year since the flood had taken out all his soybeans for the bio-diesel. And where was he even going to find seed next year not only for soybeans, but the corn, sunflowers, and millet which had all been drowned in the fields.

On and on and on Mr. Beau talked during the fifteen minute drive back to Uncle Ben’s. David thought his head was about to explode, since he didn’t know if he should actually listen to the torrent coming from the big farmer or try to concentrate on what was happening at home. He couldn’t do anything about either situation so he finally decided to just sit there and nod in the pauses, which seemed to be all Mr. Beau expected from him. Doc Campbell simply sat quietly in the passenger seat, he knew Mr. Davis well and realized that no response was needed until the man asked a question then he would be quiet and wait for an answer.

By the time they got back to the house just over an hour had passed since Uncle Ben had been shot. Latoya was waiting for them on the porch. She had covered her husband with a tarp from under the house. Quickly she led Doc Campbell and Mr. Beau into the house and up to Uncle Ben’s room. For a moment, David considered whether to go up to see Uncle Ben before he left, he really wanted to see him now after all the horror of this afternoon. But he knew that Uncle Ben wouldn’t be able to talk to him even if he were still alive and the idea of finding out that the man he knew as his father was dead was more than he could bear.

So David turned his back on the trim white house on its tall brick pillars and walked around to his pirogue at the pier and paddled out into the bayou and the summer camp they had set up there. Mary Ann and Lucille were waiting for him with all six of the older dogs.

such a great story. thank you!!

Latoya is better off without Larry around. Thank you for the chapter.

So, whats the penalty for : Robbery, Assault with a Deadly Weapon, Attempted Murder and Grievous Bodily Harm ?
Larry got his

Part 5


The sun was setting in a blaze of fire as David landed the pirogue on the bank of the camp. Lucille and Mary Ann were standing on the bank waiting for him, Spot, Sally, and Bozo by their side. King, Queenie, and Lucifer were chained to trees around the edge of the camp. All the dogs were well trained to basic obedience commands, but the three dogs they had traded for still didn’t have the close bond that the Fontaines had with the three dogs they had raised themselves.

Both of the girls were still crying, mostly for Uncle Ben, but also in Lucille’s case for Larry and the horrible end he had come to. He might not have been much of a father, but he was hers and Lucille would always know a piece of her life was gone now. David climbed out of the pirogue and for a few moments the children held each other on the bank, giving comfort and gathering strength for an uncertain future.

“Alright ya’ll. This is the way I see it,” David began. “There’s no need for ya’ll to get mixed up in this mess and if you go home now no one will know you had anything to do with me and the dogs leaving. They’ll realize how much the dogs mean to me and figure I left to keep them from being killed.”

“Cuz, ha’ you done lost every last bit of sense you had? Where you goin’ t’ go? How you gonna get food for yourself and six big ole dogs?” Lucille burst out.

“And if you think for one little second you can just send me home and trot off by yo’self David Culpepper Fontaine, you just think again.” Mary Ann had her hands on her hips and a set, angry expression on her face. “You are my brother and I’m staying with YOU! You’re always bringing up how our first Daddy told you to take care of me and how d’you think you’re gonna do that out here in the middle of the bayou by your lonesome. I tell you frère, even if you tie me in a gunny sack and send me back; when I get out I’m coming right back out here after you. And if I can’t find you myself, I’ll tell Sheriff Martin and he’ll get men to track you down. And don’t think I won’t!! I will NOT let you leave me!”

David looked at the two girls, all of the reasonable explanations and plans for self sufficiency bleeding away like the last of the sunset to the west. Suddenly he remembered Uncle Ben’s often repeated homilies; “You can’t run away from your problems” and “No matter where you go, there you are.” David realized then that running away from the possibility of the sheriff killing the dogs by going to the bayou would only raise the problems of food, clean water, and the fact that every human within fifty miles would be looking for him within a day. And he certainly couldn’t bring his sister or cousin along with him and he couldn’t leave them behind. Or Tante Roshelle. . . or Cuz Latoya . . . or the little ones. If Uncle Ben was dead, he was the man of the family now and he had to man up . . . even if he WAS only eleven.

For a moment David’s shoulders slumped in defeat. But then he straightened and sighed, accepting his new responsibilities and a manhood that was years too early. Suddenly memories of Sunday School class surfaced and he remembered that among the Jewish people, boys were men on their thirteenth birthday and that Jesus had been a man not much older than he was. Then he remembered Jesus’ words: “Fear not, for I am with you.” At least he thought Jesus had said that, he knew it was in the bible, and he took comfort from the words. Soon, he thought, he should talk to Brother Paschal about this and see what he had to say.

“All right then, girls. Ya’ll are right, I can’t run away. Let’s get these dogs and supplies back home and see how things are.” David said firmly.

Lucille and Mary Ann came forward and hugged David a moment before turning to release the dogs and clean up the camp. They both knew David had taken on a huge responsibility and each privately pledged to make his job as easy as possible, the first job occurring to each of them was controlling Lashawn and Tommy and their constant bickering and trouble-making. Soon they were on their way back home.

The CLIFF has hit again. Thank you.

Oh dear. I've been so caught up in Kathy's latest story, A Bunch of Wild Thyme, I've forgotten to post the end of my story. See what you do to us Kathy? Moar please!

sheilab15

Part 6


Sheriff Martin stood on the short pier on the edge of the bayou behind Ben Fontaine’s house. Behind him Beau Davis was holding a lantern high, peering out into the darkness, mouthing off a constant commentary that Jean Martin easily ignored. Five other men from Bayou Chicot stood nearby, waiting for instructions from Martin on whether they would begin to search for the missing children tonight or first thing in the morning. It was already a quarter to ten and being the dark of the moon, they were as apt to miss any signs of the children as not, if they didn’t get lost themselves. Uncle Ben Fontaine knew this section of the bayou better than anyone alive and he’d been teaching young David all he knew since they’d arrived from New Orleans three years ago.

Suddenly Martin noticed three small glimmers of light far off in the bayou; within a few moments he could tell they were getting closer. Quietly he gave a sigh of relief, if that was what he thought it was the children had decided to come back on their own. It would do much to relieve Tante Roshelle and Miz Latoya’s minds tonight; they would be sitting up all night with Ben as it was.

Soon even Beau Davis noticed the lights. He was about to go and tell the women that the children were back, but Martin stopped him, saying that there was men’s work to be done about the decision on the dogs‘ futures before he wanted the women down here. A few minutes later the three pirogues edged into the pier and men took the lines and tied them up, helping the children to shore and holding the leashes on the six dogs.

Sheriff Martin looked down into the faces of the children for a few moments, a stern expression on his face. Reading their faces, he could tell the girls had been following David’s lead and were relieved he had chosen to come home. David’s face showed a mixture of acceptance and fear, telling Jean that the boy realized he had been wrong to run, but still dreaded the consequences of today’s events.

“I guess you all know you’ve put Tante Roshelle and Latoya through a heap of worry this evening. As if Ben wasn’t enough to deal with, you three have had those poor ladies frantic with fear about what has happened to ya’ll.” The children all hung their heads at this, but the sheriff was glad to see David’s was the first to come back up and the boy met his eye, waiting for the verdict to be delivered. He nodded. “I reckon ya’ll ran because you were afraid of what would happen to your dogs.”

The girls looked up and nodded. Mary Ann said, “We didn’t want them to be killed like Miz Carroll’s terrier that killed the chickens.”

“That terrier of Miz Carroll’s had to be killed because he was taking Mr. Renault’s livihood. It was stealing from him. Now Mr. Renault had talked to Miz Carroll and I had talked to Miz Carroll, but she either couldn’t or wouldn’t keep the dog put up so he wouldn’t kill chickens. So he had to be killed. David, son, I’ve talked to Tante Roshelle and Latoya both and they agree those dogs were doing the best they could to protect you and that Larry made the first move drawing that gun. It’s a dog’s job to protect his master and your dogs have done their jobs today. It wasn’t a good thing that your Dad had to die that way Lucille, but it wasn’t the dogs fault either. I’ll have to make a report of this for Larry’s death certificate, but there’ll be no punishment for the dogs.”

The relief on the children’s faces was evident as the men handed the dog’s leashes back to them. David knelt and rubbed Bozo’s head before he took the leash off the dog.

“Now I reckon you’ll be wanting to hear how your Uncle Ben is. You all just remember you need to walk through the house, but Doc Campbell says that barring any infections or complications there’s a good chance Ben will pull through this. Hold up! Hold up, I say!” All three children had turned toward the house and David looked very much like he wanted to bolt right into Ben’s room that instant. They stopped. “I’m sure Tante Roshelle and Latoya will tell you all about it, but
I want you children to go Q U I E T L Y upstairs and not wake him if he’s sleeping. D’ you understand?”

“Yes sir!” the three replied.

“Alright then, let’s all go home then men, and let these kids get in to their family.”

David, Lucille, and Mary Ann ran through the dewy grass of the yard, up the back steps, and dropped to a walk as they entered the lamp lit hall. Going up the stairs they heard Tante Roshelle call their names from the hall, and heard too her sob of relief when she heard all of their voices in reply.

Thank you, yep the kids needed to come back on their own . There is more I hope.

Thank you. Glad they didn't kill the dogs and Uncle Ben will be ok.