Story Ava (Complete)
- Thread starter Kathy in FL
- Start date
Thank you Kathy!
Come daylight it will be time to backtrack that pig. Two or three people, you don't go solo against a sounder of pigs, infected or not, and more than that will make to much noise. Maybe have a larger quick reaction force ready when the sounder is found. Have someone from the CDC and state wildlife in with the QRF.
Come daylight it will be time to backtrack that pig. Two or three people, you don't go solo against a sounder of pigs, infected or not, and more than that will make to much noise. Maybe have a larger quick reaction force ready when the sounder is found. Have someone from the CDC and state wildlife in with the QRF.
Griz3752
Retired, practising Curmudgeon
And NO POODLE guns! 7.62x51, 12G slugs --- something to anchor the target! Too bad but I doubt the meat will be good for anything -- think of all the wasted Bacon & pulled pork!
Twofer just in case my nerves and other things make it hard for me to get more posted for a few days.
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Chapter 71
Well I gotta say it has not been fun dealing with all the fall out. Em went off like a nuclear device and nearly moved out. Nearly. And only because I took him deep into the swamp and let him scream and yell and lecture and yada yada yada until he was calmed down enough that he wasn’t going to stroke out. And only then after I let people see us having a rip roaring argument that no one could construe as being fake where I let them hear loud and clear that we were not sleeping together because Em considered me a kid that needed looking after because I didn’t have anyone else and he felt responsible. Yeah. It hurt. Like salt in a paper cut. But I had suspected that his feelings were based more on need to be a sheep dog than true romantic crap. I think it shook him up to have to analyze it that way. And I at least give him credit for knowing that it must have cost me to realize it as well … and still not try and force him to play make believe for my pride.
At nearly the same time I was having a rip-roaring argument with Zeb because he’d overheard me say something to the effect that I’d no more back off being friends with Em for my own sake than I would have ever backed off being friends with the ‘tards that I had crewed with for so many years. But that obviously didn’t count because it looks like my new friends – and old friends – preferred taking the word of a woman that everyone new was whoring around with Daniel Edgar than coming to me about it first if they had concerns. So while they could count on me, when the chips were down I now knew I didn’t have anyone that would have my back.
Oh that was real fun. I usually like to keep drama to the minimum and what there is I like to keep private. Not this time. I don’t have much back up, and will admit to it free and clear, but this time not only was I not backing up, I was taking offensive action. So everyone heard everything loud and in 4K. I also let it be known how certain people that should have known better took the word of someone with an ax to grind … lost job, old girlfriend, the whole nine yards. And then I went a step further.
In front of God and everyone at the church one Sunday I said, “Hey, Daniel keep that whore you are sleeping with under control.”
Talk about dead silence.
“Now Ava …”
“Don’t you ‘now Ava’ me. Maybe she’s bent because she is laid off because the feds found a lot of irregularities in her work performance. Maybe she is bent because she’s been giving the milk away and you haven’t felt the need to buy the cow. Maybe she is bent because Em don’t give her the attention as an old girlfriend she thinks she is due. Maybe she is bent just because she is a sour person. I … don’t … care. You get her in line or I’m gonna let some home grown truths be known.”
“Now you listen here you little …”
Whoops, he forgot to keep his actor’s mask on and what his audience was.
“No. You listen to me. If you can’t get her under control it means you don’t have any control. I doubt you’ve got the cojones to be able to do it anyway. You ain’t nothing but pretty smiles and hot air that ain’t exactly efficient in doing your job or you would still have it. She’s probably the boss in your bed buddy scheme anyway. So just be a good boy and pass this along. I’m done being nice. I’m way passed done with it. And I’m done being questioned every time I turn around about a couple of those irregularities. You two and your ‘friends’ better get their crap together and stop causing me grief!”
By that time there was a lot of people looking and listening. I’d dressed it up just a little with the “questioning” bit making people wonder just what I was being questioned about. I was also hoping to make Daniel Edgar start to wonder how he was going to let go of the ass end of the tiger he’d been playing with without being shredded to pieces.
All this got back to people just like I wanted it to. I’d learned my lesson with Rich and all that came after it. I’d done my investigating and kept it quiet until I was sure … or at least sure enough. I would have been forced to keep on being quiet because as I told Broadstreet, none of it was enough to stand up in court. But Wylene had finally forced me to act. Some people are now learning that I’m not made of sugar and spice but of gunpowder and lead.
Maybe something like this tipped things for Uncle Henley. I don’t know. Not sure I care. I know that sounds awful but it has turned into the truth, the more I found out about what really made him tick and the choices he made concerning me. I do know that I’ve reached the point that I’m tired of believing in fairy tales. And tired of listening to people who want to put air back into the fairy tales.
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~
“Zeb feels awful. Give him a chance,”
“Knock it off Denise. Zeb has had a lifetime of chances. The fact that he would believe a hot mess like Wylene Boudreaux and not even have the decency to come to me and ask for my side tells me I overrated his friendship and for a long damn time.”
“It was a mistake and he knows it now.”
“Now?! It wasn’t a ‘mistake’ it was a choice. One he made free and clear. You should be asking yourself what she had that made her so believable despite all the rest of the facts.”
“Tits.”
Not what I expected hear. “’Scuse me?”
“I said tits. I’ve watched her use them like a hypnotist and haven’t seen too many guys not take a good, long look. My sister used to do the same thing in school. And yeah, it’s made me wonder just how mature Zeb is … but I’m willing to wait until … well just until.”
I snorted. “Good for you. But I’m done waiting and it isn’t for whatever romantic crap you are looking for. If I had wanted that I could have found someone a long time ago just by pretending to be something I’m not and playing the games all the others played.”
She was quiet long enough that I finished cleaning the gutter that I’d been working on and come down off the ladder. I had folded it up and was taking it back to the shed when she jogged to catch up. “You can’t keep this up Ava. You’re gonna get sick … or worse. I overheard …”
She stopped talking and followed me into the workshed then closed the door. “I don’t have time for this Denise.”
“Well you’re going to make time. I haven’t even told Zeb this so … so you just listen. I … overheard Mark.”
“I’m not playing games.”
Then surprise, surprise she slugged me in the arm and it actually hurt. “I’m not playing games either so listen up already. There was a meeting … at the house we’re renting in Lafayette. Lots of officers there and zero enlisted so something big is going on. And your Major …”
“She’s not mine.”
“You know what I mean so just shut up and listen. She got in trouble. And she isn’t the only one. Colonel Morgan was calling a bunch of people on the carpet. Turns out that Boudreaux woman … the Colonel had her investigated and she’s not the nice woman she wants some people to believe she is. Do you know where she is at right now?”
“No. How the heck should I know? Why the heck should I care?”
She pulled me away from the window and whispered, “She was picked up a couple of hours ago by the military police. They want to know what she knows about some missing medical supplies and a shipment of food that was earmarked for civilian distribution in this area.”
Getting angry I told her, “Shut up and forget everything you heard. Stop listening in on conversations you have no business hearing. I mean it Denise, from what little I’ve learned these people are ruthless. It looks like they are also getting stupid. Stupid and ruthless is not a combination designed for happy times. And stop coming around me unless you have an escort … and I don’t mean Zeb.”
She just looked at me a second and then punched me in the arm again. I snapped, “That’s two. You aren’t gonna get a three.”
She hissed, “Talk about stupid. How could we have missed what you were doing?!”
“I don’t know what …”
“Don’t try and play me Ava. You saw through me in high school and now I see through you. Working all these nights to supposedly do what? Save up for your own place? Not have to be around people you are mad at? Pushing Fabrice towards that girl Vadie? Yeah, I caught that too. And all the million and one other little things that pushes people away … and keeps them away from you for their own safety. What’s going on Ava? You tell me or I’ll explain to Zeb just how stupid we’ve all been.”
I groaned, “Zeb would have to fall in love with the one girl that is nearly as good at being a pain in the butt as I am.” When she grinned I finished, “But I am way out of your league when it comes to meanness Denise. Stay out of my business.”
“And my mother and Zeb’s aunt have you beat by ten because it isn’t that you aren’t capable, it’s that you have a line and won’t cross it. And if I can deal with them, I can deal with you.”
She wasn’t wrong and we both knew it. “Denise I mean it about you and Zeb not coming near me.” When she opened her mouth I snapped, “Those are my terms. Don’t like them then leave and I’m going to have my way anyway if I have to say something to Mark.”
She was momentarily outraged then nodded like she was finally accepting how serious I considered what was going on. “This situation needs to come to a conclusion. And before you ask, this isn’t payback for my uncle, though that might be what started it. I’m not even sure if I can claim that anymore. There’s other things and people involved that I can’t tell you about because it is all just too crazy and I’m not sure what part of it even I believe. What I do know is that this problem was here before I arrived and might have been here a hella long time before that. Daniel Edgar, Wylene Boudreaux and a few others I could name are involved but I still don’t know who the boss is or even if there is a boss in a traditional sense or if it is just a lot of people doing their own thing and not having a problem if people think they are bigger and badder than they are.”
“But you don’t think so.”
I shook my head. “I’ve given up thinking I have the answers. What I need are facts and I’m not going to get them the way I was going. I don’t have years to wait around.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means what it means. What I thought I had here? I looks like maybe I don’t or there are people that want to make sure I don’t. Like I said, there’s people and stories that are just crazy. And I don’t know if I’m getting things mixed up together or if they really are mixed up together on some level.”
“Ava …”
“Look. My people have deep roots around here. Things go back a long time. But Dad moved us out of it for reasons that are looking pretty good to me now. I thought I’d … I thought I’d … I don’t know be able to build something here even if it meant literally starting over because I believed in those roots. I thought it would just take time and me proving myself to the right people. But I’m just not … look, I just don’t know if that is true anymore or if it was ever true. Either way, this other? Them … who ever ‘them’ is … want to make sure that I can’t have anything here because I won’t play by their damn stupid rules. I don’t have a problem being on the bottom because that’s the only place I’ve ever been and I’m willing to work my way up. Well those buttholes have now made it so I might not ever be able to clear my way through. And that is what these paybacks are now for. But to take it to the next level I may have to cross that line you say I won’t. But if I do I’m still me enough that I don’t want a lot of innocent bystanders getting caught in the splatter. And that’s all you are going to get out of me. Stay out of my way or I swear I’ll not only go to Mark I’ll go to your mom, and Zeb’s too, and to hell with the consequences. Got it?”
She looked at me the way few people ever have … like an equal … like she understood what I was doing and that she didn’t necessarily have a problem with the way I was going about it. Unfortunately she also looked like she was about to offer to help and that I couldn’t have. Thankfully I was rescued.
Mr. Julius pulled open the door and said, “You girls can have your tiff some other time. Miss Piccolo your brother is looking for you.”
I glared at her and she at me and then she turned around and stomped off.
“Ava …”
“I don’t need a lecture Mr. Julius, thanks all the same. I need to get over to Maurice’s and put another patch in his roof.”
He put his hand on my arm as I went to leave. “Watch yo back girl. I know what’s yo doing but yo just watch yo back. And Hubert says that he’s got a job if you’re interested.”
“I’m always interested in jobs.”
“Well this one … you might not should be though if I was yern age I’d probably jump at it myself. Pay’ll be good.”
I nodded and headed out into a day that had started to feel like the bowels of hell had acid reflux.
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Chapter 71
Well I gotta say it has not been fun dealing with all the fall out. Em went off like a nuclear device and nearly moved out. Nearly. And only because I took him deep into the swamp and let him scream and yell and lecture and yada yada yada until he was calmed down enough that he wasn’t going to stroke out. And only then after I let people see us having a rip roaring argument that no one could construe as being fake where I let them hear loud and clear that we were not sleeping together because Em considered me a kid that needed looking after because I didn’t have anyone else and he felt responsible. Yeah. It hurt. Like salt in a paper cut. But I had suspected that his feelings were based more on need to be a sheep dog than true romantic crap. I think it shook him up to have to analyze it that way. And I at least give him credit for knowing that it must have cost me to realize it as well … and still not try and force him to play make believe for my pride.
At nearly the same time I was having a rip-roaring argument with Zeb because he’d overheard me say something to the effect that I’d no more back off being friends with Em for my own sake than I would have ever backed off being friends with the ‘tards that I had crewed with for so many years. But that obviously didn’t count because it looks like my new friends – and old friends – preferred taking the word of a woman that everyone new was whoring around with Daniel Edgar than coming to me about it first if they had concerns. So while they could count on me, when the chips were down I now knew I didn’t have anyone that would have my back.
Oh that was real fun. I usually like to keep drama to the minimum and what there is I like to keep private. Not this time. I don’t have much back up, and will admit to it free and clear, but this time not only was I not backing up, I was taking offensive action. So everyone heard everything loud and in 4K. I also let it be known how certain people that should have known better took the word of someone with an ax to grind … lost job, old girlfriend, the whole nine yards. And then I went a step further.
In front of God and everyone at the church one Sunday I said, “Hey, Daniel keep that whore you are sleeping with under control.”
Talk about dead silence.
“Now Ava …”
“Don’t you ‘now Ava’ me. Maybe she’s bent because she is laid off because the feds found a lot of irregularities in her work performance. Maybe she is bent because she’s been giving the milk away and you haven’t felt the need to buy the cow. Maybe she is bent because Em don’t give her the attention as an old girlfriend she thinks she is due. Maybe she is bent just because she is a sour person. I … don’t … care. You get her in line or I’m gonna let some home grown truths be known.”
“Now you listen here you little …”
Whoops, he forgot to keep his actor’s mask on and what his audience was.
“No. You listen to me. If you can’t get her under control it means you don’t have any control. I doubt you’ve got the cojones to be able to do it anyway. You ain’t nothing but pretty smiles and hot air that ain’t exactly efficient in doing your job or you would still have it. She’s probably the boss in your bed buddy scheme anyway. So just be a good boy and pass this along. I’m done being nice. I’m way passed done with it. And I’m done being questioned every time I turn around about a couple of those irregularities. You two and your ‘friends’ better get their crap together and stop causing me grief!”
By that time there was a lot of people looking and listening. I’d dressed it up just a little with the “questioning” bit making people wonder just what I was being questioned about. I was also hoping to make Daniel Edgar start to wonder how he was going to let go of the ass end of the tiger he’d been playing with without being shredded to pieces.
All this got back to people just like I wanted it to. I’d learned my lesson with Rich and all that came after it. I’d done my investigating and kept it quiet until I was sure … or at least sure enough. I would have been forced to keep on being quiet because as I told Broadstreet, none of it was enough to stand up in court. But Wylene had finally forced me to act. Some people are now learning that I’m not made of sugar and spice but of gunpowder and lead.
Maybe something like this tipped things for Uncle Henley. I don’t know. Not sure I care. I know that sounds awful but it has turned into the truth, the more I found out about what really made him tick and the choices he made concerning me. I do know that I’ve reached the point that I’m tired of believing in fairy tales. And tired of listening to people who want to put air back into the fairy tales.
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~
“Zeb feels awful. Give him a chance,”
“Knock it off Denise. Zeb has had a lifetime of chances. The fact that he would believe a hot mess like Wylene Boudreaux and not even have the decency to come to me and ask for my side tells me I overrated his friendship and for a long damn time.”
“It was a mistake and he knows it now.”
“Now?! It wasn’t a ‘mistake’ it was a choice. One he made free and clear. You should be asking yourself what she had that made her so believable despite all the rest of the facts.”
“Tits.”
Not what I expected hear. “’Scuse me?”
“I said tits. I’ve watched her use them like a hypnotist and haven’t seen too many guys not take a good, long look. My sister used to do the same thing in school. And yeah, it’s made me wonder just how mature Zeb is … but I’m willing to wait until … well just until.”
I snorted. “Good for you. But I’m done waiting and it isn’t for whatever romantic crap you are looking for. If I had wanted that I could have found someone a long time ago just by pretending to be something I’m not and playing the games all the others played.”
She was quiet long enough that I finished cleaning the gutter that I’d been working on and come down off the ladder. I had folded it up and was taking it back to the shed when she jogged to catch up. “You can’t keep this up Ava. You’re gonna get sick … or worse. I overheard …”
She stopped talking and followed me into the workshed then closed the door. “I don’t have time for this Denise.”
“Well you’re going to make time. I haven’t even told Zeb this so … so you just listen. I … overheard Mark.”
“I’m not playing games.”
Then surprise, surprise she slugged me in the arm and it actually hurt. “I’m not playing games either so listen up already. There was a meeting … at the house we’re renting in Lafayette. Lots of officers there and zero enlisted so something big is going on. And your Major …”
“She’s not mine.”
“You know what I mean so just shut up and listen. She got in trouble. And she isn’t the only one. Colonel Morgan was calling a bunch of people on the carpet. Turns out that Boudreaux woman … the Colonel had her investigated and she’s not the nice woman she wants some people to believe she is. Do you know where she is at right now?”
“No. How the heck should I know? Why the heck should I care?”
She pulled me away from the window and whispered, “She was picked up a couple of hours ago by the military police. They want to know what she knows about some missing medical supplies and a shipment of food that was earmarked for civilian distribution in this area.”
Getting angry I told her, “Shut up and forget everything you heard. Stop listening in on conversations you have no business hearing. I mean it Denise, from what little I’ve learned these people are ruthless. It looks like they are also getting stupid. Stupid and ruthless is not a combination designed for happy times. And stop coming around me unless you have an escort … and I don’t mean Zeb.”
She just looked at me a second and then punched me in the arm again. I snapped, “That’s two. You aren’t gonna get a three.”
She hissed, “Talk about stupid. How could we have missed what you were doing?!”
“I don’t know what …”
“Don’t try and play me Ava. You saw through me in high school and now I see through you. Working all these nights to supposedly do what? Save up for your own place? Not have to be around people you are mad at? Pushing Fabrice towards that girl Vadie? Yeah, I caught that too. And all the million and one other little things that pushes people away … and keeps them away from you for their own safety. What’s going on Ava? You tell me or I’ll explain to Zeb just how stupid we’ve all been.”
I groaned, “Zeb would have to fall in love with the one girl that is nearly as good at being a pain in the butt as I am.” When she grinned I finished, “But I am way out of your league when it comes to meanness Denise. Stay out of my business.”
“And my mother and Zeb’s aunt have you beat by ten because it isn’t that you aren’t capable, it’s that you have a line and won’t cross it. And if I can deal with them, I can deal with you.”
She wasn’t wrong and we both knew it. “Denise I mean it about you and Zeb not coming near me.” When she opened her mouth I snapped, “Those are my terms. Don’t like them then leave and I’m going to have my way anyway if I have to say something to Mark.”
She was momentarily outraged then nodded like she was finally accepting how serious I considered what was going on. “This situation needs to come to a conclusion. And before you ask, this isn’t payback for my uncle, though that might be what started it. I’m not even sure if I can claim that anymore. There’s other things and people involved that I can’t tell you about because it is all just too crazy and I’m not sure what part of it even I believe. What I do know is that this problem was here before I arrived and might have been here a hella long time before that. Daniel Edgar, Wylene Boudreaux and a few others I could name are involved but I still don’t know who the boss is or even if there is a boss in a traditional sense or if it is just a lot of people doing their own thing and not having a problem if people think they are bigger and badder than they are.”
“But you don’t think so.”
I shook my head. “I’ve given up thinking I have the answers. What I need are facts and I’m not going to get them the way I was going. I don’t have years to wait around.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means what it means. What I thought I had here? I looks like maybe I don’t or there are people that want to make sure I don’t. Like I said, there’s people and stories that are just crazy. And I don’t know if I’m getting things mixed up together or if they really are mixed up together on some level.”
“Ava …”
“Look. My people have deep roots around here. Things go back a long time. But Dad moved us out of it for reasons that are looking pretty good to me now. I thought I’d … I thought I’d … I don’t know be able to build something here even if it meant literally starting over because I believed in those roots. I thought it would just take time and me proving myself to the right people. But I’m just not … look, I just don’t know if that is true anymore or if it was ever true. Either way, this other? Them … who ever ‘them’ is … want to make sure that I can’t have anything here because I won’t play by their damn stupid rules. I don’t have a problem being on the bottom because that’s the only place I’ve ever been and I’m willing to work my way up. Well those buttholes have now made it so I might not ever be able to clear my way through. And that is what these paybacks are now for. But to take it to the next level I may have to cross that line you say I won’t. But if I do I’m still me enough that I don’t want a lot of innocent bystanders getting caught in the splatter. And that’s all you are going to get out of me. Stay out of my way or I swear I’ll not only go to Mark I’ll go to your mom, and Zeb’s too, and to hell with the consequences. Got it?”
She looked at me the way few people ever have … like an equal … like she understood what I was doing and that she didn’t necessarily have a problem with the way I was going about it. Unfortunately she also looked like she was about to offer to help and that I couldn’t have. Thankfully I was rescued.
Mr. Julius pulled open the door and said, “You girls can have your tiff some other time. Miss Piccolo your brother is looking for you.”
I glared at her and she at me and then she turned around and stomped off.
“Ava …”
“I don’t need a lecture Mr. Julius, thanks all the same. I need to get over to Maurice’s and put another patch in his roof.”
He put his hand on my arm as I went to leave. “Watch yo back girl. I know what’s yo doing but yo just watch yo back. And Hubert says that he’s got a job if you’re interested.”
“I’m always interested in jobs.”
“Well this one … you might not should be though if I was yern age I’d probably jump at it myself. Pay’ll be good.”
I nodded and headed out into a day that had started to feel like the bowels of hell had acid reflux.
Chapter 72
I might be acting like I was on the outs with everyone, but I still had my pride and never took a job if it kept me from taking care of my contract with Auntie. I’d been keeping up with all the gardening that was my responsibility. Daily I checked all the plants for any diseases and pests and treated when necessary. I was preparing the soil for fall plantings including cleaning up all the old plant debris and mixing in compost or fertilizer to the beds before the next planting. I started plants for broccoli, cabbage, cauliflower, collards, kale, and onions to set out in September and planted the herb transplants like rosemary, ginger, laurel, and Mexican tarragon. I planted lily bulbs like Aztec and spider. I divided divided and replanted crowded plants. Tied up plants that were getting too tall to keep them from falling over into the paths and getting in the way of the mower and people walking around. I sharpened all the lawn mower blades as well as other gardening tools that needed it. Trimmed the palm fronds to keep them from becoming hiding places for palmetto bugs, roaches, snakes, and rats. And was starting to lightly prune shrubs so that if there was any new growth it would harden off before winter.
I also took care of the food gardens and the co-op gardens though I wasn’t as friendly with everyone as I was in the past. It seemed like every bean I had planted had returned a hundred-fold. Some I picked for fresh, some for canning, and some I simply pulled up the entire bush and hung on poles so they could dry and be stored for use that way. I was happy to have more cantaloupes and watermelons that I knew what to do with though the books at the library were giving me plenty of ideas. I suppose I could have asked Momma L and Auntie but I was working for them, not playing daughter or granddaughter. Not to mention that when I went to the library I also went on line and would print out recipes and instructions and what all that I was keeping in a binder in the storage unit.
I was about to take out a warrant against whoever sold me the cucumber seeds. I would have planted half that I did had I known how many would be coming in. And for every one that I pulled I swear I’d go back the next day and there would be two in its place. And every where I turned people were using them different. I never knew how many different pickles there were in this world. And worse, how many things could be pickled. Pickled okra? Sure. Same for pickled peppers and pickled onions. Those I knew but that you could pickle fruit? Uh uh. That was a new one on me and at least half the peaches I picked from various trees around the parish were one of the things that got pickled. Nectarines too. Still not too sure what I think about those.
Tomatoes and sweet corn came in by the bushel. And were eaten by the bushel too since Auntie still hand more than a houseful at both The Isabelle and the Old House. But lucky both, along with the summer squash crop, could keep up and then some to our needs which left enough for canning and all the rest. Blueberries I got from Mr. Maurice. Same for apples. Got plenty of crap work gleaning people’s yards for figs, gooseberries, grapes, pears, and raspberries. Miss Yula Mae taught me about elderberries, pawpaws, and something called an Ogeechee lime tree. The Ogeechee is also known as the white tupelo which is where bees get the fixings for tupelo honey. Now that I could get behind and I helped her collect and strain the honey out of the two hives she kept. Got a few stings but I gotta say it was worth it.
Middle of August I picked up some work in the rice fields during harvest time. Gawd that was hard work. But I got paid both in scrip and product. The scrip I was happy to have to pay the rent on the storage locker and the product I stored in a metal drum after giving a cut to Auntie for not complaining about the time away from the Isabelle. The lawyers are who put me on to the job. I should have known something was up. Found out later they were investors in the operation. There are basically seven steps in the process of harvesting rice. First is reaping wich is the act of cutting the mature panicles and straw above ground. That’s what I was doing. You talking about some hot and tiring work. And a lot of nasty comments from people that thought those of us doing it were no better than the mud we tried not to track home after doing the job no one else would or could do. I know I stunk after a long day in the field but what was coming out of their back end from all their talking didn’t exactly smell like roses.
Next comes threshing which is separating the paddy grain from the rest of cut crop or in layman’s terms separating out the rice hay from the rice itself which is followed by the next step which is cleaning by removing immature, unfilled, non-grain materials. The threshing and cleaning is an operation in and of itself. Then you haul what is left to different threshing location where first things are field dried. That means that the cut crop is spread out for drying which is sometimes done in the sun and some times in giant kiln rooms. Then comes the stacking and piling which is temporarily storing the harvested crop in stacks or piles. After that comes the last threshing and bagging the threshed grain in bags for transport and storage.
I reaped for five days straight and I still only wound up cutting about a half-acre. I had to constantly sharpen the little hand sickle I was using. I also found out I had muscles and parts in my back that I didn’t know I had when they started hurting.
The threshing and all the other has to start within 24 hours of reaping. So by about the third day I was already getting paid in product from some of the other fields that were further along in production. I decided to take it to the locker room and put it in the metal barrel and that’s where Em caught me.
“Dammit girl … look at what you are doing to yourself.”
I was too tired to fight. “Leave me alone Em. You live your life and I’ll live mine and I’ll do it my way.”
“You aren’t going to do to me what you are doing to everyone else. Stand still. I brought lidocaine.”
“Like hell I will. You can just …”
He grabbed me by the back of my neck and put our foreheads together. “I … am … not those kids you grew up with. I ain’t anyone else for that matter. I’m me and I know you. I don’t believe crap about you just because someone says something that is easier to believe than it should be. Just listen to me for a sec. Listen dammit. I’m not asking you to stop fighting. I’m asking that you stop fighting me.”
Too tired and too close to the kind of emotional I hate getting I told him, “Stop telling me what to do and leave me alone.”
“I’m not telling … I’m asking. Let me help.”
I was so tired I wasn’t watching my mouth. “There’s nothing you can do but be a target.”
There was silence and then, “Sum bitch. I knew something was going on.”
I groaned. “Em …”
“No.” Then he swallowed and I guess it must have cost him. “But I’m not going to beg either. I’ve got my own pride. But I’m not leaving Ava. You aren’t strong enough to push me away. Just you better be damn careful. And when you’re ready I’ll be there. I ain’t foolin’ ‘bout that.”
He shared his precious lidocaine – stuff is hard to come by these days – and sure enough it helped me to get through the roughest night. Third day is always the roughest. Next two days weren’t easy but they weren’t as hard as the first three had been and the harvesting machines arrived and all of us temporary field hands were let go or found other jobs such as in threshing and bagging. And I could at least have some pride that I did my own part to stave off the starving times that kept trying to add their misery to the mix of the mess this country is in.
I was one of the ones let go and I was satisfied for it to be that way. I had too many other ways to make a living since I didn’t have a family counting on me. All of that to say that none of it meant I wasn’t prepared to do exactly as I said when it came to protecting who I thought needed protecting.
“Mr. Hubert? Mr. Julius said you had some crapwork that needed doing.”
He nodded his head for me to follow him over to his fish shack where he seemed to spend the days when he couldn’t find his own bit of work to do to bring in money.
“Little late for you to be out. You get caught by the patrols and …” He let it hang.
I snorted. “They haven’t caught me yet. Not to mention they’ve got bigger fish to fry right now.”
“Dey do dat,” he said right before tossing back the next of several homebrews he’d had for breakfast, lunch, and dessert if the empties in the recycling bin was any indication. Dinner he’d get when Momma L got home from the Big House. “We’ve tracked and accounted for all the damn pigs but it might be in the feral dog and cats. I heard an old woman on the other side of town shot one from her back porch when it started trying to get into her goat pin.”
Curious I asked, “Military come clean it up this time?”
“Jes’ like all the other times. You know that paper they put out telling everyone to bring their pets and animals to the clinic for a rabies shot is making some talk. If an animal is caught out without the tag they’re taken by animal control for immediate put down. And word is they are catch and releasing a bunch of wild animals after shooting them up with the vaccine.”
“That’s not a bad thing.”
“No. But there’s stupid and then there’s stupid. They’s tagging the animals that get the vaccine. Poachers and honest hunters who get caught with one of them tagged animals get fined. Henri Louis got dinged three times in one haul and is now in Lafayette in lock up and his wife don’t have the money to get him out on bail.”
“That sucks. Guess hunting just got a lot harder.”
“Uh huh. And that leaves fishin’ and ain’t a lot of that to be had with the restrictions on the Gulf. Even the bayou is getting fished over.”
“But people are still doing it.”
“Yes they are,” he agreed. “And I happen to know some people that have a load coming in … a legal load … but that are getting tired of the protection racket going on in certain places where they take their catch through.”
“Is that a fact?” I asked knowing where this was going.
“To make it worth it they have to sell two loads north at the higher prices so they can afford to keep one catch local. Their last load going north was stolen from them. They’re hurting and will have to close their operation down if it keeps happening. Thing is … they got cash but not a lot of trust.”
“Don’t blame them a bit. A person should be able to work and get paid for it, especially if they are taking all the risk.”
He looked at me and then laughed. “Girl you too much. You want the job or not?”
“I do. We talking about scrip or product?”
“We are talking about coin of the realm.”
That froze me in place. I knew what the term meant. “White, yellow or gray?” I asked using the most common euphemisms.
“Little bit of all three maybe. Depends on how good a job you do. For sure you’ll get some white.” White is silver, Yellow is gold, and Gray is lead … as in ammunition.
“Fine. White or gray. Yellow is too big a problem for someone like me.” Before he could say something more I said, “I’ll take it if that’s all they’ve got but if I get a preference I’d prefer white or gray.”
He nodded. “Job is tonight. You able?”
“Always.”
I might be acting like I was on the outs with everyone, but I still had my pride and never took a job if it kept me from taking care of my contract with Auntie. I’d been keeping up with all the gardening that was my responsibility. Daily I checked all the plants for any diseases and pests and treated when necessary. I was preparing the soil for fall plantings including cleaning up all the old plant debris and mixing in compost or fertilizer to the beds before the next planting. I started plants for broccoli, cabbage, cauliflower, collards, kale, and onions to set out in September and planted the herb transplants like rosemary, ginger, laurel, and Mexican tarragon. I planted lily bulbs like Aztec and spider. I divided divided and replanted crowded plants. Tied up plants that were getting too tall to keep them from falling over into the paths and getting in the way of the mower and people walking around. I sharpened all the lawn mower blades as well as other gardening tools that needed it. Trimmed the palm fronds to keep them from becoming hiding places for palmetto bugs, roaches, snakes, and rats. And was starting to lightly prune shrubs so that if there was any new growth it would harden off before winter.
I also took care of the food gardens and the co-op gardens though I wasn’t as friendly with everyone as I was in the past. It seemed like every bean I had planted had returned a hundred-fold. Some I picked for fresh, some for canning, and some I simply pulled up the entire bush and hung on poles so they could dry and be stored for use that way. I was happy to have more cantaloupes and watermelons that I knew what to do with though the books at the library were giving me plenty of ideas. I suppose I could have asked Momma L and Auntie but I was working for them, not playing daughter or granddaughter. Not to mention that when I went to the library I also went on line and would print out recipes and instructions and what all that I was keeping in a binder in the storage unit.
I was about to take out a warrant against whoever sold me the cucumber seeds. I would have planted half that I did had I known how many would be coming in. And for every one that I pulled I swear I’d go back the next day and there would be two in its place. And every where I turned people were using them different. I never knew how many different pickles there were in this world. And worse, how many things could be pickled. Pickled okra? Sure. Same for pickled peppers and pickled onions. Those I knew but that you could pickle fruit? Uh uh. That was a new one on me and at least half the peaches I picked from various trees around the parish were one of the things that got pickled. Nectarines too. Still not too sure what I think about those.
Tomatoes and sweet corn came in by the bushel. And were eaten by the bushel too since Auntie still hand more than a houseful at both The Isabelle and the Old House. But lucky both, along with the summer squash crop, could keep up and then some to our needs which left enough for canning and all the rest. Blueberries I got from Mr. Maurice. Same for apples. Got plenty of crap work gleaning people’s yards for figs, gooseberries, grapes, pears, and raspberries. Miss Yula Mae taught me about elderberries, pawpaws, and something called an Ogeechee lime tree. The Ogeechee is also known as the white tupelo which is where bees get the fixings for tupelo honey. Now that I could get behind and I helped her collect and strain the honey out of the two hives she kept. Got a few stings but I gotta say it was worth it.
Middle of August I picked up some work in the rice fields during harvest time. Gawd that was hard work. But I got paid both in scrip and product. The scrip I was happy to have to pay the rent on the storage locker and the product I stored in a metal drum after giving a cut to Auntie for not complaining about the time away from the Isabelle. The lawyers are who put me on to the job. I should have known something was up. Found out later they were investors in the operation. There are basically seven steps in the process of harvesting rice. First is reaping wich is the act of cutting the mature panicles and straw above ground. That’s what I was doing. You talking about some hot and tiring work. And a lot of nasty comments from people that thought those of us doing it were no better than the mud we tried not to track home after doing the job no one else would or could do. I know I stunk after a long day in the field but what was coming out of their back end from all their talking didn’t exactly smell like roses.
Next comes threshing which is separating the paddy grain from the rest of cut crop or in layman’s terms separating out the rice hay from the rice itself which is followed by the next step which is cleaning by removing immature, unfilled, non-grain materials. The threshing and cleaning is an operation in and of itself. Then you haul what is left to different threshing location where first things are field dried. That means that the cut crop is spread out for drying which is sometimes done in the sun and some times in giant kiln rooms. Then comes the stacking and piling which is temporarily storing the harvested crop in stacks or piles. After that comes the last threshing and bagging the threshed grain in bags for transport and storage.
I reaped for five days straight and I still only wound up cutting about a half-acre. I had to constantly sharpen the little hand sickle I was using. I also found out I had muscles and parts in my back that I didn’t know I had when they started hurting.
The threshing and all the other has to start within 24 hours of reaping. So by about the third day I was already getting paid in product from some of the other fields that were further along in production. I decided to take it to the locker room and put it in the metal barrel and that’s where Em caught me.
“Dammit girl … look at what you are doing to yourself.”
I was too tired to fight. “Leave me alone Em. You live your life and I’ll live mine and I’ll do it my way.”
“You aren’t going to do to me what you are doing to everyone else. Stand still. I brought lidocaine.”
“Like hell I will. You can just …”
He grabbed me by the back of my neck and put our foreheads together. “I … am … not those kids you grew up with. I ain’t anyone else for that matter. I’m me and I know you. I don’t believe crap about you just because someone says something that is easier to believe than it should be. Just listen to me for a sec. Listen dammit. I’m not asking you to stop fighting. I’m asking that you stop fighting me.”
Too tired and too close to the kind of emotional I hate getting I told him, “Stop telling me what to do and leave me alone.”
“I’m not telling … I’m asking. Let me help.”
I was so tired I wasn’t watching my mouth. “There’s nothing you can do but be a target.”
There was silence and then, “Sum bitch. I knew something was going on.”
I groaned. “Em …”
“No.” Then he swallowed and I guess it must have cost him. “But I’m not going to beg either. I’ve got my own pride. But I’m not leaving Ava. You aren’t strong enough to push me away. Just you better be damn careful. And when you’re ready I’ll be there. I ain’t foolin’ ‘bout that.”
He shared his precious lidocaine – stuff is hard to come by these days – and sure enough it helped me to get through the roughest night. Third day is always the roughest. Next two days weren’t easy but they weren’t as hard as the first three had been and the harvesting machines arrived and all of us temporary field hands were let go or found other jobs such as in threshing and bagging. And I could at least have some pride that I did my own part to stave off the starving times that kept trying to add their misery to the mix of the mess this country is in.
I was one of the ones let go and I was satisfied for it to be that way. I had too many other ways to make a living since I didn’t have a family counting on me. All of that to say that none of it meant I wasn’t prepared to do exactly as I said when it came to protecting who I thought needed protecting.
“Mr. Hubert? Mr. Julius said you had some crapwork that needed doing.”
He nodded his head for me to follow him over to his fish shack where he seemed to spend the days when he couldn’t find his own bit of work to do to bring in money.
“Little late for you to be out. You get caught by the patrols and …” He let it hang.
I snorted. “They haven’t caught me yet. Not to mention they’ve got bigger fish to fry right now.”
“Dey do dat,” he said right before tossing back the next of several homebrews he’d had for breakfast, lunch, and dessert if the empties in the recycling bin was any indication. Dinner he’d get when Momma L got home from the Big House. “We’ve tracked and accounted for all the damn pigs but it might be in the feral dog and cats. I heard an old woman on the other side of town shot one from her back porch when it started trying to get into her goat pin.”
Curious I asked, “Military come clean it up this time?”
“Jes’ like all the other times. You know that paper they put out telling everyone to bring their pets and animals to the clinic for a rabies shot is making some talk. If an animal is caught out without the tag they’re taken by animal control for immediate put down. And word is they are catch and releasing a bunch of wild animals after shooting them up with the vaccine.”
“That’s not a bad thing.”
“No. But there’s stupid and then there’s stupid. They’s tagging the animals that get the vaccine. Poachers and honest hunters who get caught with one of them tagged animals get fined. Henri Louis got dinged three times in one haul and is now in Lafayette in lock up and his wife don’t have the money to get him out on bail.”
“That sucks. Guess hunting just got a lot harder.”
“Uh huh. And that leaves fishin’ and ain’t a lot of that to be had with the restrictions on the Gulf. Even the bayou is getting fished over.”
“But people are still doing it.”
“Yes they are,” he agreed. “And I happen to know some people that have a load coming in … a legal load … but that are getting tired of the protection racket going on in certain places where they take their catch through.”
“Is that a fact?” I asked knowing where this was going.
“To make it worth it they have to sell two loads north at the higher prices so they can afford to keep one catch local. Their last load going north was stolen from them. They’re hurting and will have to close their operation down if it keeps happening. Thing is … they got cash but not a lot of trust.”
“Don’t blame them a bit. A person should be able to work and get paid for it, especially if they are taking all the risk.”
He looked at me and then laughed. “Girl you too much. You want the job or not?”
“I do. We talking about scrip or product?”
“We are talking about coin of the realm.”
That froze me in place. I knew what the term meant. “White, yellow or gray?” I asked using the most common euphemisms.
“Little bit of all three maybe. Depends on how good a job you do. For sure you’ll get some white.” White is silver, Yellow is gold, and Gray is lead … as in ammunition.
“Fine. White or gray. Yellow is too big a problem for someone like me.” Before he could say something more I said, “I’ll take it if that’s all they’ve got but if I get a preference I’d prefer white or gray.”
He nodded. “Job is tonight. You able?”
“Always.”
beaglemama
Contributing Member
Thanks Kathy!
Jeepcats27
Senior Member
Great chapters, Thank you Kathy!
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Very big thank you, I had to read it in bits as I could get back to it 
.
.
Kathy - just wondering...... are you personally like Ava and do you talk and think as much as she does? Or is she your alter-ego? Conversations come so naturally to you that you must be a bit Ava-ish.
I think every writer puts a bit of themselves in their characters. When I write a character I usually try and see what I would be like if a particular scenario occurred at a certain age. Whether that is reality or wishful thinking, theory or hypothesis, I'm not sure. Some of my characters have come out of pretty horrific scenarios. However, not since MJOTZY have I written a story with a character close to my own age. MJOTZY really got to me which is one of the reasons why it has been so hard to pick it back up. My real life bleeds over into that story whether I mean for it to or not. I also know where some of the characters are going and that makes it even more of a struggle to write. I ... I guess for lack of a better term I over identified with some of the characters and Sissy in particular. I know exactly how she feels, I'm not guessing. I know exactly what she would do in any given situation. So, I can say definitely yes on your question for MJOTZY but all of my other characters are pretty much hypothetical how a girl would react. But as most who have read my stories seem to see, there is a thread of personality that runs through most of them even when I don't mean for it to start out that way a bit of "me" starts perking to the surface. LOL They always seem to run true to form. ROFL!!
Bps1691
Veteran Member
Being a male, I've most often avoided the stories that are centered around and from the female viewpoint,
But from the very first story of yours that I read way back when on the other site before it dropped all the fiction sections, I've loved your style and characterizations. I can honestly say I've never disliked any of your stories and I've read every one that I've been able to find regardless of where they turn up. Heck, I still go back once a year and read the ones not finished even though I know they are in hiatus.
Enjoy your work and look forward to each chapter or new story to come out.
I really appreciate you for the time you spend to work through the process and provide so many the enjoyment and education that your stories give us all.
RememberGoliad
Veteran Member
How prophetic, weeks down the road here. (Just picked back up reading, just found out who Green and Greener were.)
Talk about nuts rattling around in their containers....
Texican
Live Free & Die Free.... God Freedom Country....
Twofer just in case my nerves and other things make it hard for me to get more posted for a few days.
Kathy, hope everything is ok. Been reading Yelysaveta and have spent more than one night up past 2 am. Very enjoyable.
Ava is just outstanding.
Thank you.
Texican....
Kathy, hope everything is ok. Been reading Yelysaveta and have spent more than one night up past 2 am. Very enjoyable.
Ava is just outstanding.
Thank you.
Texican....
One of the things is that we offered to have my parents move down the street from us into our old house. We expected them to balk at it and then they surprised us with nearly an immediate positive yes. The renters are in there until the end of July then we have some fix up to do as we always do when we have renters move out. We are also going to do a few things to make it easier on my parents like install handrails and such in the bathrooms. The landscaping needs lots of work but my older son has said he will be in charge of that part.
My parents have a crapton of stuff where they are now which is 3 hours north of us in the middle of Podunk Florida. The house we are moving them into can hold it all but we are hoping to actually help them start downsizing some of their stuff so it doesn't all have to be moved plus it isn't so overwhelming for my parents to get organized in the new place, which I will be helping them to do.
Lots of moving parts to this because we need to sell their place to help them get out of debt. There is a vehicle that needs to get sold so that they can get out from under that, lower their insurance, etc. Just lots of stuff and my parents both have a bad habit of refusing to get rid of anything and accumulate more. They aren't really hoarders, just older and not wanting to get rid of anything that might be of value or use at some point. Sigh. A house and four outbuildings worth of stuff. I just pray I haven't bitten off more than I can chew.
On the bright side they will just be down the street. If there is an emergency I'm five minutes away. I can help keep the house clean. My sons have both said they will do the yard. The house is big enough with enough rooms that it can hold all of their stuff and then some so long as we keep it organized. Room for my mom's flowers and a shop in the backyard for my dad to put his stuff in and piddle around with the projects he never finishes.
And that is just part of what is going on right now. ROFL! I'm not whining. I feel blessed. It really is what I want and what is best for my parents and will be a huge load off of all of us. It is just getting from point A to point B, arranging the finances, and not losing our marbles in the process.
Laurane
Canadian Loonie
I don't envy you - we just sold our place this weekend and move in 4 weeks......to another province. We have downsized pretty much and are leaving some large pieces of furniture, but it still seems like too much to pack. But this will be our last move.....ever......but that was supposed to be this one. But I am not writing a book either.......
Lake Lili
Veteran Member
So thrilled for you that you got it sold! That's great news! How are east are you coming?
Laurane
Canadian Loonie
Penticton BC to Sylvan Lake AB...... we don't do East much. Carting oxygen tanks around is a bit bulky. But will be happy to get out of the Socialist Paradise.
Griz3752
Retired, practising Curmudgeon
Yes ma'am you'll like Sylvan. You'll get the odd blizzard but Southern AB has pretty mild winters all things considered. You're dead on about BC -- can't see the trees for the Pinko tree huggers.
Take care, stay healthy.
G.
Laurane
Canadian Loonie
Lived in AB for 47 years - just moving back home - always Southern/Central AB......sorry everyone for the drift, but we don't get many Canadians "reuniting" here
Nope, not too late at all. I am in the process of figuring out a writing schedule for the rest of summer. My time is going to be tight but I hope to finish Ava sometime in July, continue with Veta 2, and maybe work on Hartford Ridge and Trash to Treasure as soon as Ava is finished. Sometimes it is all about which story is "calling to me" rather than which ones I would prefer to finish up first. Sigh.
Chapter 73 (part 1)
“You really Henry Thibodaux’s niece?” asked a guy calling himself Amos Seaux.
“You sure you have any business asking?” I asked while wondering why he wanted to know, but I thought I figured it out with a little time in his company. From the way Captain Dunkirk moved his catch, not choosing the route until the last minute, it meant that an insider was giving him away to the local crapheads. These same crapheads may or may not have been the same ones that Uncle Henley had run afoul of. And this guy just raised my hackles a bit. There was no reason for him to know who I was, or care.
“Jus’ trying to be friendly,” he leered after another attempt at conversation.
I told him, “Don’t try so hard. It’s a waste of time. Better off doing your job.” When he tried yet again, I added, “And leaving me alone to do mine.”
He didn’t like that I didn’t fall for his charming self, but I have to say … Ick. I know I was a bit on the rough side of looks and odor but honest to pete that guy was dirty and smelled way worse than a man on the make should. I mean so I’m no beauty queen, but I’m worth more than what he was offering. And he had sores he picked at near the corner of his mouth and nose that looked like impetigo but was more likely a result of being a user. If he wasn’t a user right then, he had been in the not too distant past, or he’d just picked up the habit recently. Either or it didn’t matter. He was just gross in my book.
I admit that I was stressed out and trying not to show it. I could have been more circumspect and kept my thoughts to myself rather than irritating him. Thing was I was considering whether I had bit off more than I could chew and ol’ Amos was only making my heebies worse.
Found out at the last second that we weren’t talking local waterways with the job, but I’d climbed in the back of a pickup truck anyway and been driven to the Atchafalaya River. I texted Em and told him I might be out of pocket for around 24 hours and not to flip his wig. I had a job I was doing for honest money that was gonna fill that hole in my budget that was fast approaching; and that I’d check in as soon as I could but it was likely I wouldn’t have any signal for a while. Since it was Saturday night and into Sunday which was my day off, I didn’t worry too much since it wasn’t unusual and I hope I hadn’t overplayed my hand by making anything of it. I just felt … I owed him. Maybe things aren’t going the way we’d been talking around – Lord knows I don’t want to be some man’s cause or burden of any sort – but I still respect Em and if possible want to stay friends.
At the end of the truck ride I picked up the Atchafalaya River at this place called the Frenchman’s Wilderness Campground. A lot spiffier looking than most of the campsites that I’d used as a Scout. Or should I say that it used to be a lot spiffier looking and I could see the bones of what it once had been before the war took its toll. It was now commandeered for the use of refugees from evacuated areas. As a result of everyone looking road hard and hung up wet, I didn’t look out of place. Soon enough I was on the water and moving north on a flat-bottomed boat that nearly looked like a houseboat. Apparently it was a “necessity being the mother of invention” kind of a thing. The “house” part held a refrigeration system that kept the seafood from spoiling. Unfortunately for my peace of mind, it didn’t leave a lot of room for guards and it made the thing dang slow and more like a floating box which made it feel unstable … and therefore unsafe … at least to me.
The crew normally ran with two but the other one had been scuttled during the previous run/attack. And I’d heard the sailors/fishermen … the real ones … cussing ever so often about how low we were sitting in the river and the risk of running up on snags and other such dangers. There was even a man at the front of the boat taking the water’s depth and calling a quiet “mark twain” a few times. Mark Twain isn’t just the pseudonym of Samuel Clemons, it is a water depth mark meaning two fathoms or twelve feet; supposedly the lowest depth for safe water travel. Every time mark twain was called I could feel the boat shuddering as it corrected course. Ugh. I like canoeing, kayaking, swimming, and just about all water sports though I haven’t exactly had time to participate recently. For all that I’m pretty certain I’m not a sailor the way those men are.
It was two in the morning and the middle of a shift change for the boat crew when I noticed Amos … or whatever his name was … fiddling with something in his pocket. He made an unnecessary comment about going to use the head and when what he pulled out of his pants wasn’t what I was worried he was going to, I tapped the rail and got Capt. Dunkirk’s attention who had been leaving the area reserved for … bodily functions … and pointed back the way he’d come. He’s eyes widened and I knew it was act or we’d be in trouble. Like I said, there wasn’t a whole lot of room to maneuver but there was enough. I leapt the railing and put a boot to ol’ Amos’ backside before he could activate the mini glow stick. Glow stick fell to the deck and Amos’ went overboard and then under the boat as it passed over him. He wasn’t wearing a life vest and as far as any could tell, never came back up to the surface.
There wasn’t time to hypothesize what happened because we knew whoever he’d been going to signal was ahead of us and lying in wait. We were already running without lights – requirements of wartime and all that – but the First Mate made sure that any and all potential reflections were doused including what he called my “pasty white girl face.” I’m darkly tanned from all of my outdoor work but not nearly as much as the men around me. The only other woman was a Creole lady that was ship’s cook and wife of the First Mate and needless to say they’d have a hard time finding her without a direct spotlight and even then she was all shadow. For all I never heard her utter a word she was on par with Momma L’s scary so I was giving her a wide berth. Gawd but it took hours to get all the marine graphite lube off my face and ears, not to mention where the stuff got into my hair as well from the tube she’d tossed her husband. To me it looked like a bad two-tone camo paint job except it was mostly one-tone all over. Yuck. Believe it or not the First Mate snickered like he found it funny. Me not so much.
It probably seems like I had all the time in the world and was screwing around but the opposite is the case, it just seemed that time had slowed down. We had dumped from the narrow part of the river into the much wider part and had just passed the national wildlife refuge boundary when they hit us.
Silent and deadly they probably meant to be, but they’d lost their stealth, shock, and awe and with the surprise on our side this time, they were not the success they’d meant to be. I’m not saying we didn’t take some hits – as you can tell from my writing my arm isn’t in great shape – but they weren’t the kraken, not even close.
It was a weird and silent battle. And pitch black. I nearly went over twice but managed to avoid it, with one of those times costing me the arm damage. I’d like to say we won the day, tied up the enemy, and turned them over to local law enforcement. Uh … no. We won, stripped then weighted the bodies down and dumped them overboard, then scoured their boats, took what was valuable, and then tied the three boats to shore in a different location, making sure to disable them before getting on up the river as quickly as possible. That was battle one. Believe it or not, that didn’t even take an hour of the night away from us. There were two other skirmishes with the same results and even less lost time. I’d wised up after the first one and any hesitation to do what was necessary was long gone by the time we put in at this place called Legonier and offloaded the cargo to a refrigerator train car that would take the catch to its final destination. The night wasn’t over however.
~~~~~
“And your name is?”
“Ava Thibodeaux.”
“ID?”
I handed him mine keeping a sharp eye on it in case it was gonna get confiscated. The guy in front of me suddenly muttered, “Holy hell.”
The boss man – obviously looking and having more authority than the guy in front of me – snapped, “Another one?”
“Uh, no Sir. She’s telling the truth. Both age and name are correct and in the system.”
There was surprise all the way around and I gave them all the squinty eye. “And that’s a problem why?”
Boss man answered, “Because young lady most people of ill repute have the sense to use a fake ID.”
Unsure if I was being insulted or not I said, “Well, I’m not of ill repute. I was working a job.”
“Why?”
“Huh?”
“Why?”
“’Cause I like to eat and pay my bills on time.”
The young guy’s mouth fell open and he just continued to stare. I was getting a strange feeling and edged away a little while still looking him over.
The boss man asked, “What are you looking at?”
“He’s got the face of a man whose brains are leaking out. Things tend to get messy around people like that.” The young guy’s mouth snaped shut so fast his teeth made a loud clack in the suddenly silent room.
For whatever reason the boss man found it amusing and told me to sit down and answer a few questions. I expected to have to do some fast and fancy verbal dancing but … nothing.
“Jolene spoke well of you. Unusual for your age and gender. She’s not fond of potential messes.”
“Jolene?”
“Dunkirk’s cook.”
“Oh. Her.” At his quirked eyebrow I explained, “I know when to mind my p’s and q’s and she reminds me of an Auntie that is quick with a broom and pan … and rolling pin when it suits her mood.”
“Just so.” To another guy he said, “Jefferson? Papers.”
The papers were for me to sign basically attesting to the Captain’s report of three repelled “contacts” with river pirates. No mention of any other details but there must have been something as the next paper I signed was for a boat finder’s fee. I didn’t even open my mouth but my brain was whirling.
The boss man chuckled, “You’re learning. Just so you know, this gets reported to the government. You’ll receive a 1099-misc at your last known address but if you’ve moved you are still required to report it on your taxes.”
“Yes Sir. Is there a receipt I can keep just in case?”
I got another amused look out of him but apparently it was a good question and he explained that I’d need to deposit the check in a bank as it was on US currency and not State scrip. It would take two weeks to clear but then it would be available to withdraw per local amount restrictions. I nearly dropped my teeth when I saw the amount. Nine hundred bucks … in US currency. Holey crap. I was hoping I didn’t get robbed just leaving this office.
“Er … can I deposit it around here?” I gave him the name of my bank and he nodded.
“If you prefer we can direct deposit it from this office. It will tack a couple of days onto getting the amount cleared for withdrawal.”
“Fine with me. It’s going into savings anyway. I’ve paid this month’s rent, this will go for next month’s bills.”
Easy peezy lemon squeezy and there wouldn’t be any awkward questions and unnecessary gossip in town. I’d heard a rumor that Lorelei Edgar worked in my bank branch part time when the lawyers’ office she worked at had cut her down to two days a week. When my tinfoil hat was getting too tight I wondered if she was looking through people’s records for information to give to her brother. When I was tired of conspiracy theories I’d realize she was a receptionist and didn’t have privileges to look at customer accounts. The problem is I knew there were ways around not having privileges and my tinfoil would start getting tight all over again.
I wasn’t the only one that got the special treatment by the boss man. I later found out it was par for the course for any new crew members. The others that had been through it either thought it a joke or right of passage. I thought it sucked because I had briefly been truly worried.
While I waited everyone else out, I found out there was a tavern sort of thing and most everyone had gone there to grab a bite to eat. Lovely, but not something I’d come prepared to pay for. I was sitting on the porch, chewing some cheap gum I’d had in my pocket to try and forget how hungry I was. There was a crooked swinging sign that for some reason slowly began to irritate me more and more. I asked the guy sweeping the area, “Why y’all let that thing swing like that? It’s gonna fall and hit someone.”
“Been fixed. Keeps coming undone. Now we just let it hang.”
I don’t know, the more that stupid thing hung that way the crankier I felt. Finally I’d had it. I climbed the post nearest the sign and then onto the porch roof to get a look at why it wouldn’t stay fixed. Sure enough the hole the eyebolt fit in was bigger than the nut that screwed onto the eyebolt. “Stupid,” I grumbled. Well since they didn’t give a crap they were unlikely to care if I jury-rigged a temporary fix. I took off the nut, rethreaded the eyebolt through the hole, and after taking a few last pops up my gum, donated it to the service of dealing with my cranky behind by packing it into and around the hole’s opening. I gave it a sec to set and then put the nut back on. Bingo. Was holding like a charm and my cranky behind was feeling less OCD.
It wasn’t until I had shimmied down the pole that I noticed that I’d drawn a crowd. One person in particular was a big round woman that had been a lot rounder at some time in the past. However, her belly still shook when she laughed. She shook her head and said, “Come on. It’ll be scraps but you’ll eat or I’ll know why.”
I was not refusing. I was still licking my fingers of the syrup that I’d poured on my chicken and waffle sandwich while Captain Dunkirk was counting heads as we reboarded so the crew could get back down the river and catch the tide as it went out through the Delta.
It was then I was surprised (one of too many on this particular job) that we’d be making a stop on the way back at this place called Krotz Springs to pick up a load of supplies that they would trade in Henderson Levee which was just east of Breaux Bridge. I was thinking that the 24 hours I’d told Em might not come true and I was worried of missing the start of my Monday workday.
~~~~~
“You really Henry Thibodaux’s niece?” asked a guy calling himself Amos Seaux.
“You sure you have any business asking?” I asked while wondering why he wanted to know, but I thought I figured it out with a little time in his company. From the way Captain Dunkirk moved his catch, not choosing the route until the last minute, it meant that an insider was giving him away to the local crapheads. These same crapheads may or may not have been the same ones that Uncle Henley had run afoul of. And this guy just raised my hackles a bit. There was no reason for him to know who I was, or care.
“Jus’ trying to be friendly,” he leered after another attempt at conversation.
I told him, “Don’t try so hard. It’s a waste of time. Better off doing your job.” When he tried yet again, I added, “And leaving me alone to do mine.”
He didn’t like that I didn’t fall for his charming self, but I have to say … Ick. I know I was a bit on the rough side of looks and odor but honest to pete that guy was dirty and smelled way worse than a man on the make should. I mean so I’m no beauty queen, but I’m worth more than what he was offering. And he had sores he picked at near the corner of his mouth and nose that looked like impetigo but was more likely a result of being a user. If he wasn’t a user right then, he had been in the not too distant past, or he’d just picked up the habit recently. Either or it didn’t matter. He was just gross in my book.
I admit that I was stressed out and trying not to show it. I could have been more circumspect and kept my thoughts to myself rather than irritating him. Thing was I was considering whether I had bit off more than I could chew and ol’ Amos was only making my heebies worse.
Found out at the last second that we weren’t talking local waterways with the job, but I’d climbed in the back of a pickup truck anyway and been driven to the Atchafalaya River. I texted Em and told him I might be out of pocket for around 24 hours and not to flip his wig. I had a job I was doing for honest money that was gonna fill that hole in my budget that was fast approaching; and that I’d check in as soon as I could but it was likely I wouldn’t have any signal for a while. Since it was Saturday night and into Sunday which was my day off, I didn’t worry too much since it wasn’t unusual and I hope I hadn’t overplayed my hand by making anything of it. I just felt … I owed him. Maybe things aren’t going the way we’d been talking around – Lord knows I don’t want to be some man’s cause or burden of any sort – but I still respect Em and if possible want to stay friends.
At the end of the truck ride I picked up the Atchafalaya River at this place called the Frenchman’s Wilderness Campground. A lot spiffier looking than most of the campsites that I’d used as a Scout. Or should I say that it used to be a lot spiffier looking and I could see the bones of what it once had been before the war took its toll. It was now commandeered for the use of refugees from evacuated areas. As a result of everyone looking road hard and hung up wet, I didn’t look out of place. Soon enough I was on the water and moving north on a flat-bottomed boat that nearly looked like a houseboat. Apparently it was a “necessity being the mother of invention” kind of a thing. The “house” part held a refrigeration system that kept the seafood from spoiling. Unfortunately for my peace of mind, it didn’t leave a lot of room for guards and it made the thing dang slow and more like a floating box which made it feel unstable … and therefore unsafe … at least to me.
The crew normally ran with two but the other one had been scuttled during the previous run/attack. And I’d heard the sailors/fishermen … the real ones … cussing ever so often about how low we were sitting in the river and the risk of running up on snags and other such dangers. There was even a man at the front of the boat taking the water’s depth and calling a quiet “mark twain” a few times. Mark Twain isn’t just the pseudonym of Samuel Clemons, it is a water depth mark meaning two fathoms or twelve feet; supposedly the lowest depth for safe water travel. Every time mark twain was called I could feel the boat shuddering as it corrected course. Ugh. I like canoeing, kayaking, swimming, and just about all water sports though I haven’t exactly had time to participate recently. For all that I’m pretty certain I’m not a sailor the way those men are.
It was two in the morning and the middle of a shift change for the boat crew when I noticed Amos … or whatever his name was … fiddling with something in his pocket. He made an unnecessary comment about going to use the head and when what he pulled out of his pants wasn’t what I was worried he was going to, I tapped the rail and got Capt. Dunkirk’s attention who had been leaving the area reserved for … bodily functions … and pointed back the way he’d come. He’s eyes widened and I knew it was act or we’d be in trouble. Like I said, there wasn’t a whole lot of room to maneuver but there was enough. I leapt the railing and put a boot to ol’ Amos’ backside before he could activate the mini glow stick. Glow stick fell to the deck and Amos’ went overboard and then under the boat as it passed over him. He wasn’t wearing a life vest and as far as any could tell, never came back up to the surface.
There wasn’t time to hypothesize what happened because we knew whoever he’d been going to signal was ahead of us and lying in wait. We were already running without lights – requirements of wartime and all that – but the First Mate made sure that any and all potential reflections were doused including what he called my “pasty white girl face.” I’m darkly tanned from all of my outdoor work but not nearly as much as the men around me. The only other woman was a Creole lady that was ship’s cook and wife of the First Mate and needless to say they’d have a hard time finding her without a direct spotlight and even then she was all shadow. For all I never heard her utter a word she was on par with Momma L’s scary so I was giving her a wide berth. Gawd but it took hours to get all the marine graphite lube off my face and ears, not to mention where the stuff got into my hair as well from the tube she’d tossed her husband. To me it looked like a bad two-tone camo paint job except it was mostly one-tone all over. Yuck. Believe it or not the First Mate snickered like he found it funny. Me not so much.
It probably seems like I had all the time in the world and was screwing around but the opposite is the case, it just seemed that time had slowed down. We had dumped from the narrow part of the river into the much wider part and had just passed the national wildlife refuge boundary when they hit us.
Silent and deadly they probably meant to be, but they’d lost their stealth, shock, and awe and with the surprise on our side this time, they were not the success they’d meant to be. I’m not saying we didn’t take some hits – as you can tell from my writing my arm isn’t in great shape – but they weren’t the kraken, not even close.
It was a weird and silent battle. And pitch black. I nearly went over twice but managed to avoid it, with one of those times costing me the arm damage. I’d like to say we won the day, tied up the enemy, and turned them over to local law enforcement. Uh … no. We won, stripped then weighted the bodies down and dumped them overboard, then scoured their boats, took what was valuable, and then tied the three boats to shore in a different location, making sure to disable them before getting on up the river as quickly as possible. That was battle one. Believe it or not, that didn’t even take an hour of the night away from us. There were two other skirmishes with the same results and even less lost time. I’d wised up after the first one and any hesitation to do what was necessary was long gone by the time we put in at this place called Legonier and offloaded the cargo to a refrigerator train car that would take the catch to its final destination. The night wasn’t over however.
~~~~~
“And your name is?”
“Ava Thibodeaux.”
“ID?”
I handed him mine keeping a sharp eye on it in case it was gonna get confiscated. The guy in front of me suddenly muttered, “Holy hell.”
The boss man – obviously looking and having more authority than the guy in front of me – snapped, “Another one?”
“Uh, no Sir. She’s telling the truth. Both age and name are correct and in the system.”
There was surprise all the way around and I gave them all the squinty eye. “And that’s a problem why?”
Boss man answered, “Because young lady most people of ill repute have the sense to use a fake ID.”
Unsure if I was being insulted or not I said, “Well, I’m not of ill repute. I was working a job.”
“Why?”
“Huh?”
“Why?”
“’Cause I like to eat and pay my bills on time.”
The young guy’s mouth fell open and he just continued to stare. I was getting a strange feeling and edged away a little while still looking him over.
The boss man asked, “What are you looking at?”
“He’s got the face of a man whose brains are leaking out. Things tend to get messy around people like that.” The young guy’s mouth snaped shut so fast his teeth made a loud clack in the suddenly silent room.
For whatever reason the boss man found it amusing and told me to sit down and answer a few questions. I expected to have to do some fast and fancy verbal dancing but … nothing.
“Jolene spoke well of you. Unusual for your age and gender. She’s not fond of potential messes.”
“Jolene?”
“Dunkirk’s cook.”
“Oh. Her.” At his quirked eyebrow I explained, “I know when to mind my p’s and q’s and she reminds me of an Auntie that is quick with a broom and pan … and rolling pin when it suits her mood.”
“Just so.” To another guy he said, “Jefferson? Papers.”
The papers were for me to sign basically attesting to the Captain’s report of three repelled “contacts” with river pirates. No mention of any other details but there must have been something as the next paper I signed was for a boat finder’s fee. I didn’t even open my mouth but my brain was whirling.
The boss man chuckled, “You’re learning. Just so you know, this gets reported to the government. You’ll receive a 1099-misc at your last known address but if you’ve moved you are still required to report it on your taxes.”
“Yes Sir. Is there a receipt I can keep just in case?”
I got another amused look out of him but apparently it was a good question and he explained that I’d need to deposit the check in a bank as it was on US currency and not State scrip. It would take two weeks to clear but then it would be available to withdraw per local amount restrictions. I nearly dropped my teeth when I saw the amount. Nine hundred bucks … in US currency. Holey crap. I was hoping I didn’t get robbed just leaving this office.
“Er … can I deposit it around here?” I gave him the name of my bank and he nodded.
“If you prefer we can direct deposit it from this office. It will tack a couple of days onto getting the amount cleared for withdrawal.”
“Fine with me. It’s going into savings anyway. I’ve paid this month’s rent, this will go for next month’s bills.”
Easy peezy lemon squeezy and there wouldn’t be any awkward questions and unnecessary gossip in town. I’d heard a rumor that Lorelei Edgar worked in my bank branch part time when the lawyers’ office she worked at had cut her down to two days a week. When my tinfoil hat was getting too tight I wondered if she was looking through people’s records for information to give to her brother. When I was tired of conspiracy theories I’d realize she was a receptionist and didn’t have privileges to look at customer accounts. The problem is I knew there were ways around not having privileges and my tinfoil would start getting tight all over again.
I wasn’t the only one that got the special treatment by the boss man. I later found out it was par for the course for any new crew members. The others that had been through it either thought it a joke or right of passage. I thought it sucked because I had briefly been truly worried.
While I waited everyone else out, I found out there was a tavern sort of thing and most everyone had gone there to grab a bite to eat. Lovely, but not something I’d come prepared to pay for. I was sitting on the porch, chewing some cheap gum I’d had in my pocket to try and forget how hungry I was. There was a crooked swinging sign that for some reason slowly began to irritate me more and more. I asked the guy sweeping the area, “Why y’all let that thing swing like that? It’s gonna fall and hit someone.”
“Been fixed. Keeps coming undone. Now we just let it hang.”
I don’t know, the more that stupid thing hung that way the crankier I felt. Finally I’d had it. I climbed the post nearest the sign and then onto the porch roof to get a look at why it wouldn’t stay fixed. Sure enough the hole the eyebolt fit in was bigger than the nut that screwed onto the eyebolt. “Stupid,” I grumbled. Well since they didn’t give a crap they were unlikely to care if I jury-rigged a temporary fix. I took off the nut, rethreaded the eyebolt through the hole, and after taking a few last pops up my gum, donated it to the service of dealing with my cranky behind by packing it into and around the hole’s opening. I gave it a sec to set and then put the nut back on. Bingo. Was holding like a charm and my cranky behind was feeling less OCD.
It wasn’t until I had shimmied down the pole that I noticed that I’d drawn a crowd. One person in particular was a big round woman that had been a lot rounder at some time in the past. However, her belly still shook when she laughed. She shook her head and said, “Come on. It’ll be scraps but you’ll eat or I’ll know why.”
I was not refusing. I was still licking my fingers of the syrup that I’d poured on my chicken and waffle sandwich while Captain Dunkirk was counting heads as we reboarded so the crew could get back down the river and catch the tide as it went out through the Delta.
It was then I was surprised (one of too many on this particular job) that we’d be making a stop on the way back at this place called Krotz Springs to pick up a load of supplies that they would trade in Henderson Levee which was just east of Breaux Bridge. I was thinking that the 24 hours I’d told Em might not come true and I was worried of missing the start of my Monday workday.
~~~~~
Chapter 73 (part 2)
An hour shy of curfew I finally got a signal. “Where the hell are you at?!”
“Not now Em. I’m busting my butt trying to get back in time so I don’t get caught out. Tell ‘em not to shoot if they see someone speeding into the drive on a ten-speed.”
“You’re bike is in the shed.”
“That bike is in the shed. This one I picked up out of a ditch because if I had been walking I would never … dang dog, leave me alone … look, I gotta get off the phone. Just do me the favor?”
“I’ll be at the end of the drive. Just get your ass home. You got some ‘splainin’ to do.”
I didn’t know what his problem was unless I’d jangled his sheep dog nerves for cutting it so close. Nevertheless after putting my phone in my khakis I added as much speed as my tired behind was capable of and came flying around the corner and up the drive right as the night patrol was giving Em apologetic but firm looks as they escorted him away from the road.
The brakes on the bike sucked and I wound up fishtailing, nearly hydroplaning in a puddle leftover from some afternoon rain they’d gotten in the area, and finally having to make a handbrake turn to come to a full stop without laying the bike – and me – down.
I raised my hands and said, “I know, I know. I cut it close. There was a hot mess of a wreck and near riot on I10 that I got caught in. I’ll make it up by … by … I don’t know. I’ll think of something to make us square.”
Tyrell was on duty again surprising me. He shook his head. “Naw. Just don’t do it again. Stow the bike and get inside before someone decides to make a case of it.”
I nodded my thanks and then, still being a little jazzed up told Em, “Meet you as soon as I put the bike in the shed. I’ll hurry. Could you just pour me some water or something before they cut the power?”
He gave me a searching look and said, “Auntie left you some food. And your jug is already filled.”
“Thank you sweet Lord,” I muttered as I jogged, first to put my newest acquisition away and then back to our room before anyone could get a stray hair.
I was tempted to take a shower but there wasn’t time. Dang the new regs were a pain in my butt. I was in and leaning against the door when my legs decided that would be a good time to give out. Em got a camp stool under my butt before I actually hit the floor however.
“Thanks,” I sighed gratefully as he thrust some water into my hands. After I gulped about a third of it gone I told him, “Give me a sec and I’ll explain.”
He nodded in concern as he watched my jelly legs carry me over to the sink and in gratitude filled a bowl with water to take a spit bath with. But first I washed my face and drank some more water. I was about to start explaining when he said, “Sit and eat first.”
I wasn’t going to turn that bit of charity down and inhaled the bowl of what I vaguely realized was red beans and rice like a brand-new Hoover vacuum. “Thanks,” I mumbled around a mouthful in the middle of my meal.
“You’re welcome,” he said quietly with what I realized had to be superhuman effort at holding his anger at bay.
“Sorry,” I mumbled next. “I didn’t realize there was going to be a load coming back as well. At his look I squashed the last few grains of rice with my fork so they wouldn’t escape and then stuck them in my mouth followed by more water.
That’s when I started explaining. A couple of times he growled, especially when he got a look at my arm, but then was surprised when I got to the part of mostly being irritated because I was worried about being late and worrying him.
“That a fact?” he asked. And it wasn’t snark but surprise that colored his voice.
“I told you when to expect me back and not to worry. I didn’t want it to be a lie. Um … sorry.”
He sighed. “Cher …”
It had been a while since he’d called me that and I looked closer. “Okay, if I didn’t light your tailfeathers particularly for cutting it so close, what happened while I was gone?”
He looked regretful and then came and sat beside me which was odd. I was going to light the solar lantern so I could get a good look at his face but he shook his head and I got a bad foreboding.
“Cher … someone desecrated your uncle’s grave.”
“Desecrated how?” I asked suspiciously.
Em blanched. “Dug him up, dumped him out, destroyed his coffin.” I was still processing his words when he added, “It was Martin Edgar. There’s a witness.”
I was trying to not get angry because I needed to think. “Was he arrested?”
“They were going to but when they got to the place he’s been renting he wasn’t there.”
“Why do I hear a big ol’ but in there?”
Em sighed. “Place was busted up and there was a lot of blood. Tests say it is Martin’s … or at least his blood type. A couple of bullet holes make it look like he’s been shot.”
“Suicide attempt?”
“No. Splatter pattern doesn’t match up for a suicide.”
“And?”
“Blood trail leads out to the garage and then stops. He either climbed in his truck and took off or someone put him in it and … and has taken his body off to get rid of it.”
“By that I take it he hasn’t shown up at a hospital or clinic.”
“No. And you’re awful damn calm. Lot calmer than I expected.”
“Oh I’m rattling apart on the inside but that’s not going to do any good if they think I did it.”
“Did you?”
I gave him the look the question deserved and he had the grace to grimace and mutter something like “damn fool mouth.” I let it slide ‘cause I could and asked, “If they thought it was me why haven’t they arrested me?”
“’Cause your friend Zeb is going to make a damn good lawyer some day and told them they couldn’t arrest on zero evidence and only on suspicion. Broadstreet agreed and gave him some license to do his thing. Er … he tracked you.”
“He what?” I growled angrily.
“Relax. It isn’t something he particularly was happy about doing but this time it was necessary. Your ID was used at several points between here and Legonier and back. Most of those stops have a federal presence and were verifiable.”
“Humph. They left you to explain things to me?”
“Pretty much.”
I snorted again and decided I was just too tired to get as angry as I should be. “Sucks to draw the short straw don’t it.”
“Sure ‘nuff does.” He was silent for a moment before asking, “You okay?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Yeah,” he said. “There’s always a choice.”
“Not this time,” I told him. “I need to keep my crap under control.”
“What you need is sleep. C’mon, I’ll boost you into the hammock.”
Hesitantly I asked, “You mind if I sleep on the floor by your bed? This isn’t me teasing or being a pest. And I won’t if it … you know … crosses too many boundaries.”
Carefully he said, “You don’t need to sleep on the floor.”
Just as carefully I asked, “You sure?”
“Yeah,” he answered with more confidence than it looked like he felt.
“Thanks Em. I … I … just …”
“You gonna tell me the rest of the story tomorra,” he said softly. “For now …”
“Just let me wash up. And … thanks. Life just … sucks.”
“Yes it does,” he said as I slowly tipped over into his personal space. That’s the last thing I remember for a while.
An hour shy of curfew I finally got a signal. “Where the hell are you at?!”
“Not now Em. I’m busting my butt trying to get back in time so I don’t get caught out. Tell ‘em not to shoot if they see someone speeding into the drive on a ten-speed.”
“You’re bike is in the shed.”
“That bike is in the shed. This one I picked up out of a ditch because if I had been walking I would never … dang dog, leave me alone … look, I gotta get off the phone. Just do me the favor?”
“I’ll be at the end of the drive. Just get your ass home. You got some ‘splainin’ to do.”
I didn’t know what his problem was unless I’d jangled his sheep dog nerves for cutting it so close. Nevertheless after putting my phone in my khakis I added as much speed as my tired behind was capable of and came flying around the corner and up the drive right as the night patrol was giving Em apologetic but firm looks as they escorted him away from the road.
The brakes on the bike sucked and I wound up fishtailing, nearly hydroplaning in a puddle leftover from some afternoon rain they’d gotten in the area, and finally having to make a handbrake turn to come to a full stop without laying the bike – and me – down.
I raised my hands and said, “I know, I know. I cut it close. There was a hot mess of a wreck and near riot on I10 that I got caught in. I’ll make it up by … by … I don’t know. I’ll think of something to make us square.”
Tyrell was on duty again surprising me. He shook his head. “Naw. Just don’t do it again. Stow the bike and get inside before someone decides to make a case of it.”
I nodded my thanks and then, still being a little jazzed up told Em, “Meet you as soon as I put the bike in the shed. I’ll hurry. Could you just pour me some water or something before they cut the power?”
He gave me a searching look and said, “Auntie left you some food. And your jug is already filled.”
“Thank you sweet Lord,” I muttered as I jogged, first to put my newest acquisition away and then back to our room before anyone could get a stray hair.
I was tempted to take a shower but there wasn’t time. Dang the new regs were a pain in my butt. I was in and leaning against the door when my legs decided that would be a good time to give out. Em got a camp stool under my butt before I actually hit the floor however.
“Thanks,” I sighed gratefully as he thrust some water into my hands. After I gulped about a third of it gone I told him, “Give me a sec and I’ll explain.”
He nodded in concern as he watched my jelly legs carry me over to the sink and in gratitude filled a bowl with water to take a spit bath with. But first I washed my face and drank some more water. I was about to start explaining when he said, “Sit and eat first.”
I wasn’t going to turn that bit of charity down and inhaled the bowl of what I vaguely realized was red beans and rice like a brand-new Hoover vacuum. “Thanks,” I mumbled around a mouthful in the middle of my meal.
“You’re welcome,” he said quietly with what I realized had to be superhuman effort at holding his anger at bay.
“Sorry,” I mumbled next. “I didn’t realize there was going to be a load coming back as well. At his look I squashed the last few grains of rice with my fork so they wouldn’t escape and then stuck them in my mouth followed by more water.
That’s when I started explaining. A couple of times he growled, especially when he got a look at my arm, but then was surprised when I got to the part of mostly being irritated because I was worried about being late and worrying him.
“That a fact?” he asked. And it wasn’t snark but surprise that colored his voice.
“I told you when to expect me back and not to worry. I didn’t want it to be a lie. Um … sorry.”
He sighed. “Cher …”
It had been a while since he’d called me that and I looked closer. “Okay, if I didn’t light your tailfeathers particularly for cutting it so close, what happened while I was gone?”
He looked regretful and then came and sat beside me which was odd. I was going to light the solar lantern so I could get a good look at his face but he shook his head and I got a bad foreboding.
“Cher … someone desecrated your uncle’s grave.”
“Desecrated how?” I asked suspiciously.
Em blanched. “Dug him up, dumped him out, destroyed his coffin.” I was still processing his words when he added, “It was Martin Edgar. There’s a witness.”
I was trying to not get angry because I needed to think. “Was he arrested?”
“They were going to but when they got to the place he’s been renting he wasn’t there.”
“Why do I hear a big ol’ but in there?”
Em sighed. “Place was busted up and there was a lot of blood. Tests say it is Martin’s … or at least his blood type. A couple of bullet holes make it look like he’s been shot.”
“Suicide attempt?”
“No. Splatter pattern doesn’t match up for a suicide.”
“And?”
“Blood trail leads out to the garage and then stops. He either climbed in his truck and took off or someone put him in it and … and has taken his body off to get rid of it.”
“By that I take it he hasn’t shown up at a hospital or clinic.”
“No. And you’re awful damn calm. Lot calmer than I expected.”
“Oh I’m rattling apart on the inside but that’s not going to do any good if they think I did it.”
“Did you?”
I gave him the look the question deserved and he had the grace to grimace and mutter something like “damn fool mouth.” I let it slide ‘cause I could and asked, “If they thought it was me why haven’t they arrested me?”
“’Cause your friend Zeb is going to make a damn good lawyer some day and told them they couldn’t arrest on zero evidence and only on suspicion. Broadstreet agreed and gave him some license to do his thing. Er … he tracked you.”
“He what?” I growled angrily.
“Relax. It isn’t something he particularly was happy about doing but this time it was necessary. Your ID was used at several points between here and Legonier and back. Most of those stops have a federal presence and were verifiable.”
“Humph. They left you to explain things to me?”
“Pretty much.”
I snorted again and decided I was just too tired to get as angry as I should be. “Sucks to draw the short straw don’t it.”
“Sure ‘nuff does.” He was silent for a moment before asking, “You okay?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Yeah,” he said. “There’s always a choice.”
“Not this time,” I told him. “I need to keep my crap under control.”
“What you need is sleep. C’mon, I’ll boost you into the hammock.”
Hesitantly I asked, “You mind if I sleep on the floor by your bed? This isn’t me teasing or being a pest. And I won’t if it … you know … crosses too many boundaries.”
Carefully he said, “You don’t need to sleep on the floor.”
Just as carefully I asked, “You sure?”
“Yeah,” he answered with more confidence than it looked like he felt.
“Thanks Em. I … I … just …”
“You gonna tell me the rest of the story tomorra,” he said softly. “For now …”
“Just let me wash up. And … thanks. Life just … sucks.”
“Yes it does,” he said as I slowly tipped over into his personal space. That’s the last thing I remember for a while.
Jeepcats27
Senior Member
Thank you, More twists and turns, how do you keep It straight.