Story With the Water
- Thread starter FMJ
- Start date
FMJ
Technical Senior
(10)
Jamie plays on the little dock using a stick to make zig-zag ripples in the water under the watchful eye of his grandmother.
"We do have time left for one more story, dear Jamie, if you would like,” Ma-ma Boudreaux ventured.
“Yes, Grand Ma-ma, I always like your stories!” Jamie replied turning to face his grandmother eagerly.
“Well, long ago, when I was just a girl, my Grand Ma-ma told me two things I did not understand for a very long time. First, she told me the gift skips a generation because sometimes things happen that are regretted afterward; and then she said one vessel cannot wield the whole gift alone.”
“I don’t understand, Grand Ma-ma,” Jamie said shaking his head.
“Nor did I at the time, but I still want you to remember the words,” she said quietly.
“I think my memory and my dreams are starting to play tricks on me, Grand Ma-ma,” Jamie replies in confusion.
“What do you remember, dear Jamie?” Ma-ma Boudreaux prompts.
“You mean in my dreams, Grand Ma-ma?” the boy asks turning his attention away from the darting minnows.
“Yes, tell me of your dreams, dear Jamie,” she replies settling herself more comfortably on the sturdy bench beside the little dock.
“It’s getting a little fuzzy now, kind of all jumbled together, I guess. But I remember wind and then I remember a bad man that had a scary skull on his face sitting by a fire. But then a kind man with dark eyes came to tell me you needed help and I should go find you,” Jamie related lying on the little dock in dappled sunlight. “Only when I got up to go look, I couldn’t find you anywhere until I heard your voice calling from outside. Does any of that make sense to you, Grand Ma-ma?”
“Yes, dear Jamie, from what your Ma-ma and Pa-pa have told me, I suppose it makes perfect sense,” Ma-ma Boudreaux decided as she listened idly to the rhythm of heavy surf on a distant beach.
“Grand Ma-ma? Who do you think the kind man was in my dream that told me to go find you? The one with the dark eyes?” asked Jamie thoughtfully making zig-zag ripples in the water again.
“I’m not sure, my dear Jamie, but I know I might have been swept away by the storm if not for my brave grandson who came to help me,” Ma-ma Boudreaux replied with a smile.
“A storm, Grand Ma-ma?,” Jamie asked puzzled. “When I woke up in my bed, the sun was shining outside. Was there a storm last night?”
“Only in the land of your dreams, my dear Jamie,” Ma-ma Boudreaux answered with a grin.
Thibault brought down the last of their gear from the shack and Claire worked to stow it properly in their boat.
“A place for everything,” Claire said from the boat standing to straighten her back.
“And everything in its place,” Ma-ma Boudreaux said to complete the old quote. “I am very proud of you, Claire. This was a trial by fire and a lesser individual might have cut and run. You were brave to stand your ground.”
“Are we ready?” Thibault asked shepherding Jamie toward the dock. “Time for us to go, Ma-ma, if we are to reach the ferry in time.”
In light of their recent experiences, they said their goodbyes more openly, more lovingly than in days past and sincerely promised to return to the bayou. Though Thibault poled the boat strongly, their farewells refused to end till they were nearly round the bend. Jamie waved and called out one last time, “I love you, Grand Ma-ma!” and then she heard no more.
She stood on the dock waving long after she lost sight of the boat and intently listened to the water until the last traces of kith and kin faded in the distance with the swirling current. Sighing deeply, she turned to walk back up to the shack, carefully avoiding the hole where the crawfish king lived and paused with one hand on the stair rail for a moment.
“Andre, dear one,” Ma-ma Boudreaux pronounced to the patiently listening wind. “I have no idea how it was done, but it could only have been you. You understood what I only suspected of Jamie’s will and somehow you found a way to reach beyond the veil to lead us,” Ma-ma Boudreaux added. “Until we meet again, my love.”
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FMJ
Technical Senior
(11)
“And in other news,” the commentator read from the teleprompter. “During a routine over-flight to assess the degree of hurricane damage suffered by sensitive ecological systems of the Atchafalaya National Wildlife Refuge and the Attakapas Island Wildlife Management Area, environmental scientists discovered something strange.
Approximately thirty miles southeast..., closer yet to the coast, they found an area that had received, for all intent and purpose, zero wind or storm surge damage. Now get this, the perfectly circular area, nearly three miles in diameter, located in a remote part of Iberville Parish, was bordered on all sides by areas that suffered severe damage from hurricane force winds and a record storm surge.
Environmental experts were at a loss to explain why the area was unaffected by the storm. Tune in to your ABC affiliate station, WBRZ Channel 2 at 11 for more storm updates.”
tech
Veteran Member
Surprised a Baton Rouge station would bother...they're too worried about their ebt cards after a storm
...but it would be interesting to see how outsiders interact with the Cajuns...
Bunkerdown
Contributing Member
I always find it interesting how Acadian was so corrupted in its spelling to become Cajun. I blame the British. So many of the underlying beliefs and recipes and attitudes are the same as the Acadians still in Atlantic Canada. The meat changed, we don`t have Gators. Wonderful Story, Thank you.
Texican
Live Free & Die Free.... God Freedom Country....
Environmental experts were at a loss to explain why the area was unaffected by the storm. Tune in to your ABC affiliate station, WBRZ Channel 2 at 11 for more storm updates.”
FMJ,
Now how many scientists and weather person will be crawling over Ma-ma Boudreaux little swamp paradise....
Will be interesting....
Thanks for the chapter....
Texican....
Born Free, Live Free and Die Free....
FMJ,
Now how many scientists and weather person will be crawling over Ma-ma Boudreaux little swamp paradise....
Will be interesting....
Thanks for the chapter....
Texican....
Born Free, Live Free and Die Free....
FMJ
Technical Senior
Ma-ma Boudreaux had been hearing the unusual sounds for almost an hour before the boat finally appeared at the bend. Through her binoculars, she could just make out five men in a long flat bottom boat outfitted with a mud motor, but the distinctive white dome of a survey type GPS antenna was the feature that caught her eye.
Some people become uneasy when confronted with the stillness in a remote area and unconsciously add their own noises in the misguided attempt to compensate. Ma-ma Boudreaux could plainly hear electronic equipment sounds and a short terse argument that followed the sound of a heavy object being dropped in the bottom of the boat and more curses. It all seemed to indicate a general lack of cooperation, or at the very least, a difference of opinion amongst the crew. After a couple more shouts followed by a loud splash, Ma-ma Boudreaux filled her pipe and walked down to the bench beside the dock to take in the show.
“What did you expect to find out here in the middle of this dismal swamp anyway, Dr. Williamson?” one of the men asked in agitation as he swatted at a floodway mosquito the size of his thumb.
Carefully noting their position from the display of the GPS receiver before answering, Dr. Williamson sighed, “I believe we have already had this discussion, but for the sake of clarity, I’ll repeat myself. Using our GPS, we accurately identified the location of four random points on the edge of the circular anomaly. Next, we transferred those GPS points to a geodetic survey map knowing that any three points will identify the location and size of a given circular area. Then, using a straightedge, I drew a pair of chords between those four points and used a compass to bisect them to find their center points. The extension of the center points to their intersection indicates the geometric center of the circle and allows us to physically draw the anomaly on a map.”
“Another exhaustive repetition of the obvious, Dr. Williamson,” the man replied clapping his hands in mock applause, “But haven’t you neatly sidestepped the question? What exactly did you expect to find here, Doctor?”
So focused had the scientists become on the subject of their heated discussion that they failed to notice the proximity of their boat to a little dock on the edge of the bayou or the old woman standing there listening to their conversation.
“Que recherchez-vous les garçons?” she asked in lilting Cajun French. “Juste pour une promenade en bateau?”
Dr. Williamson stood to face the woman standing on the dock and removed his hat before replying, “Ah..., Bonjour, madame. Nous cherchons une réponse.”
“I do speak English if you would find that more comfortable, Docteur,” Ma-ma Boudreaux said with a tilt of her head. “What answers do you seek?”
“Yes, well, uh..., that is, I’m quite certain that the, uh...,” Dr. Williamson stuttered in reply.
“Dr. Williamson is apparently at a loss for words!” a man in the boat said slapping his knee and laughing uproariously. “Henessey! Make an official journal entry for this date and time.”
Glancing sidelong at his colleagues in exasperation, Dr. Williamson began again. “Excuse me, a few days ago, a Category 4 hurricane made landfall at New Orleans causing catastrophic damage to the city from wind and a record storm surge.”
“Yes...,” Ma-ma Boudreaux prompted.
“Once over land, the storm quickly diminished in intensity but the track was generally northwest till it veered northeast as it left the state still classified as a powerful tropical storm,” the doctor explained.
“And the question to which you seek the answer, Docteur?” Ma-ma Boudreaux asked innocently.
“Why is there no storm damage here, or anywhere in a three-mile circle around this place?” Dr. Williamson asked pointedly.
“We were spared?” Ma-ma Boudreaux answered with a shrug and a shake of her head.
“Yes, well, do you know, or have you heard of anything unusual happening the night of the storm?”
Ma-ma Boudreaux placed her pipe in her teeth and looked upward for a moment, puffing thoughtfully before she replied, “Non Docteur, unless..., oui! A big old thunderbolt hit the ground right over there the night of the storm, she did,” she replied pointing with her cane.
Dr. Williamson sighed saying, “May we come ashore and examine the place where the lightning bolt struck?” He was already quite sure the investigation would yield no answers related to the anomaly but was determined to leave no stone unturned.
Some people become uneasy when confronted with the stillness in a remote area and unconsciously add their own noises in the misguided attempt to compensate. Ma-ma Boudreaux could plainly hear electronic equipment sounds and a short terse argument that followed the sound of a heavy object being dropped in the bottom of the boat and more curses. It all seemed to indicate a general lack of cooperation, or at the very least, a difference of opinion amongst the crew. After a couple more shouts followed by a loud splash, Ma-ma Boudreaux filled her pipe and walked down to the bench beside the dock to take in the show.
“What did you expect to find out here in the middle of this dismal swamp anyway, Dr. Williamson?” one of the men asked in agitation as he swatted at a floodway mosquito the size of his thumb.
Carefully noting their position from the display of the GPS receiver before answering, Dr. Williamson sighed, “I believe we have already had this discussion, but for the sake of clarity, I’ll repeat myself. Using our GPS, we accurately identified the location of four random points on the edge of the circular anomaly. Next, we transferred those GPS points to a geodetic survey map knowing that any three points will identify the location and size of a given circular area. Then, using a straightedge, I drew a pair of chords between those four points and used a compass to bisect them to find their center points. The extension of the center points to their intersection indicates the geometric center of the circle and allows us to physically draw the anomaly on a map.”
“Another exhaustive repetition of the obvious, Dr. Williamson,” the man replied clapping his hands in mock applause, “But haven’t you neatly sidestepped the question? What exactly did you expect to find here, Doctor?”
So focused had the scientists become on the subject of their heated discussion that they failed to notice the proximity of their boat to a little dock on the edge of the bayou or the old woman standing there listening to their conversation.
“Que recherchez-vous les garçons?” she asked in lilting Cajun French. “Juste pour une promenade en bateau?”
Dr. Williamson stood to face the woman standing on the dock and removed his hat before replying, “Ah..., Bonjour, madame. Nous cherchons une réponse.”
“I do speak English if you would find that more comfortable, Docteur,” Ma-ma Boudreaux said with a tilt of her head. “What answers do you seek?”
“Yes, well, uh..., that is, I’m quite certain that the, uh...,” Dr. Williamson stuttered in reply.
“Dr. Williamson is apparently at a loss for words!” a man in the boat said slapping his knee and laughing uproariously. “Henessey! Make an official journal entry for this date and time.”
Glancing sidelong at his colleagues in exasperation, Dr. Williamson began again. “Excuse me, a few days ago, a Category 4 hurricane made landfall at New Orleans causing catastrophic damage to the city from wind and a record storm surge.”
“Yes...,” Ma-ma Boudreaux prompted.
“Once over land, the storm quickly diminished in intensity but the track was generally northwest till it veered northeast as it left the state still classified as a powerful tropical storm,” the doctor explained.
“And the question to which you seek the answer, Docteur?” Ma-ma Boudreaux asked innocently.
“Why is there no storm damage here, or anywhere in a three-mile circle around this place?” Dr. Williamson asked pointedly.
“We were spared?” Ma-ma Boudreaux answered with a shrug and a shake of her head.
“Yes, well, do you know, or have you heard of anything unusual happening the night of the storm?”
Ma-ma Boudreaux placed her pipe in her teeth and looked upward for a moment, puffing thoughtfully before she replied, “Non Docteur, unless..., oui! A big old thunderbolt hit the ground right over there the night of the storm, she did,” she replied pointing with her cane.
Dr. Williamson sighed saying, “May we come ashore and examine the place where the lightning bolt struck?” He was already quite sure the investigation would yield no answers related to the anomaly but was determined to leave no stone unturned.
Texican
Live Free & Die Free.... God Freedom Country....
“Yes, well, do you know, or have you heard of anything unusual happening the night of the storm?”
Ma-ma Boudreaux placed her pipe in her teeth and looked upward for a moment, puffing thoughtfully before she replied, “Non Docteur, unless..., oui! A big old thunderbolt hit the ground right over there the night of the storm, she did,” she replied pointing with her cane.
When faced with a believable exaggeration, then the lie wins....
Thanks for the chapter FMJ....
Texican....
Ma-ma Boudreaux placed her pipe in her teeth and looked upward for a moment, puffing thoughtfully before she replied, “Non Docteur, unless..., oui! A big old thunderbolt hit the ground right over there the night of the storm, she did,” she replied pointing with her cane.
When faced with a believable exaggeration, then the lie wins....
Thanks for the chapter FMJ....
Texican....
FMJ
Technical Senior
(12)
After waiting for nearly an hour in line to get onboard, Thibault and Claire were grateful to finally find a place to sit on the crowded top deck of the ferry. The air was warm and thick as they waited in the line of folks desperate to get back home to check on their places after the storm. The ferry crossing was the next to last leg of the trip home and Thibault was feeling the strain in his shoulders from poling their flat bottom boat for the first eight miles to the air boat dock that morning.
They had no sooner piled their few things on the floor between them and slumped together on the bench exhausted when Jamie asked to go stand at the rail for a better view. Neither of his parents could think of any reason why he shouldn’t, so he was simply cautioned to ‘be careful and don’t go too far’ to which he eagerly agreed.
Folks lined the rails on the top deck for a breath of air after the long wait in line and space was limited. He was just about to give up and go back to sit with his Ma-ma and Pa-pa when a boy turned around and left the rail right in front of where he was standing. Jamie grabbed the deck rail in the recently vacated spot and wormed his way in with all the unabashed innocence and disregard for personal space that only a nine-year-old can muster. He found himself standing quite close to a girl near his own age who turned to regard him curiously with big dark eyes. A thick braid of jet-black hair was draped over her shoulder and hung to her waist. Easily embarrassed, Jamie had mumbled, ‘hello’ then blushed scarlet and was afraid to even look her way again, pretending to look out at the river instead.
Just when Jamie’s ears had finally begun to cool, he felt the soft touch of her hand on his at the deck rail and he jumped and pulled away, blushing all over again.
To Jamie’s astonishment, the girl calmly reached out to take his hand and held it possessively in her own as she looked steadily into his eyes and smiled.
Confused, Jamie had mumbled an apology and released the rail as he began to retreat.
“Non,” she whispered, her dark eyes twinkling as she held one finger to her lips and drew him back to the rail to stand beside her. Pressed together by the crowd at the rail, she squeezed his hand and Jamie heard voices singing in the wind.
Even while the ferry’s heavy marine diesels droned and vibrated the deck plates as they labored under the increasing strain, the ferry wallowed and settled deeper into the muddy water as though the propellers had become fouled in something. The skipper of the ferry yanked the throttles back to neutral a moment later and ordered the deck hands to check lines and obstructions. The engineer went below to check the engines and marine gears for breakdowns. If the skipper was unable to regain control and get quickly back underway, the powerful current could carry them into the path of other vessels. As he picked up the handset of the marine radio to call for assistance, the engineer called over the squawk box from below to say he couldn’t find anything wrong; the engines and marine gear were all okay.
From the bench beside Little Bayou Pigeon, Ma-ma Boudreaux idly watched the young scientists as they made their various measurements and observations. She was glad now she had carefully gathered the remains of Miriam’s black altar for proper disposal earlier. They took samples from the spot where the lightning bolt had struck and placed them in small plastic bags.
The careful written description on each included a description of the contents and the location where the sample was obtained. With their side investigation completed, the men returned to the boat with their data and Dr. Williamson paused to thank Ma-ma Boudreaux again for extending them the courtesy to help find answers to their questions.
Offering the doctor her hand, Ma-ma Boudreaux smiled and bade him farewell even as she began to sense a sudden odd change in the air, felt a strangeness in the water as Little Bayou Pigeon seemed to tilt precariously in an unsettling way that caused her head to spin.
“Are you quite alright?” the young doctor inquired looking into Ma-ma Boudreaux’s suddenly unfocused eyes with concern. “I can call for help if you are not feeling well.”
Looking down, Ma-ma Boudreaux realizes with a start she is still holding the young doctor’s hand in hers. In a moment of uncharacteristic candor, she grasps his hand tightly, gazes into his eyes and recites the litany of illumination before letting go of his hand. Apologizing for her forwardness, she recovers her composure enough to bid the young doctor adieu and wishes him safe travels.
Confused, Dr. Williamson reluctantly returns to the boat as the men struggle to pole it from the dock, but he continues to watch the old woman with concern till they are lost from sight. Ever the scientist, the young doctor carefully notes the time, date and place as well as his personal impressions of the odd encounter in a small notebook for future reference. The odd tingling sensation in his hand is quickly forgotten.
Once she is alone, Ma-ma Boudreaux quickly settled herself on the bench and closed her eyes to concentrate in the dappled sunlight, desperately listening to the water in Little Bayou Pigeon. Overriding the current of that strange wrongfulness is the unmistakable signature of kin, and not just any kin, but Jamie! In a blind panic, she reaches out crying, “Jamie! What has happened? What are you doing?”
FMJ
Technical Senior
Twenty-five miles away, standing on the top deck of a foundered ferry in the middle of the Mississippi River, Jamie is holding hands with a beautiful dark-eyed girl and the sudden mental shout in his head is both deafening and unnerving.
“Gran..., Grand Ma-ma?” Jamie stutters looking about him in wide-eyed disbelief. Is that you? I don’t see you, where are you?”
“I am here, listening to the water beside the bayou, my dear grandson. But tell me, what is it that you are doing? Even from this far away, I felt a powerful surge in the water that spoke to me clearly of your gift, dear Jamie.”
“My gift? I am on a ferry crossing a river with my Ma-ma and Pa-pa, but the ferry has stopped, I don’t know why..., oh, and I am holding hands with a girl I just met,” Jamie related excitedly. “She has big dark eyes and long black hair braided just like yours is, Grand Ma-ma! Can you see her?”
“No, Jamie, I can’t, but I need you to listen to me very carefully right now. Your gift works in strange ways, outside the world of normal physics. You and your new friend have used the gift to stop a very powerful ferryboat by using its own power against it. That power has built up like when you squeeze a spring. Only, in your case, the spring is really big now and holds enough power to throw the ferryboat all the way back to the landing! If that power is not released in some other way, people could be hurt or even killed,” his grandmother quickly explained.
“I think I understand, Grand Ma-ma but I don’t know what to do,” Jamie cried.
“If only I were there to guide you,” Ma-ma Boudreaux fretted wringing her hands.
“Qui est-elle?” (Who is she?), the dark-eyed girl asks.
“She is my Grand Ma-ma,” Jamie replied not entirely sure how he is able to understand her question.
“Elle a l'air sage,” (She looks wise), the girl added.
“You can see my Grand Ma-ma?” Jamie asks incredulously.
“Oui! Elle me dit quoi faire,” (Yes! She tells me what to do), the girl explained as her dark eyes gradually lose focus.
After a moment, Jamie feels a weight lifted from his thin shoulders as he stands at the railing still holding hands with the dark-eyed girl. Huge bubbles begin to roil to the surface of the muddy river as the water boils furiously around the ferryboat throwing clouds of steam high into the air. The suddenly liberated ferryboat shudders once and bobs like a cork before turning lazily to float downstream with the current.
The skipper immediately hit the palm-button to sound the klaxon below decks as he called ‘stand-clear’ over the squawk box and waited tensely with one hand poised above the throttles. The engineer replied ‘clear’ five seconds later and he rolled the throttles of the ferry’s diesels fully forward and spun the wheel toward the landing on the far shore as he shook his head, “Juste au moment où je pensais avoir tout vu....” (Just when I thought I had seen everything....)
Claire gasped and poked Thibault in the ribs to get his attention when she sees Jamie staggering towards them being supported by a dark-eyed girl with long black hair braided in a thick pony-tail. Ducking from under the young man’s arm draped over her shoulders, she releases the obviously exhausted young man into his confused parents’ arms.
“C'est un plaisir de vous rencontrer, je m'appelle Deidre,” (It is a pleasure to meet you, my name is Deidre) she says extending a hand in greeting.
“Anglais...?” Claire asks hopefully.
“Oui! Of course! It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Boudreaux. Ma-ma Boudreaux sends her love, too! Veuillez m'excuser, I must return to my family. They will be concerned.”
Claire and Thibault stand in awe and watch as Deidre turns on her heel, the long black pony-tail swaying as she walks away.
“What just happened?” Thibault asks Claire furrowing his brow as Jamie snores obliviously sitting on the bench between them.
“Gran..., Grand Ma-ma?” Jamie stutters looking about him in wide-eyed disbelief. Is that you? I don’t see you, where are you?”
“I am here, listening to the water beside the bayou, my dear grandson. But tell me, what is it that you are doing? Even from this far away, I felt a powerful surge in the water that spoke to me clearly of your gift, dear Jamie.”
“My gift? I am on a ferry crossing a river with my Ma-ma and Pa-pa, but the ferry has stopped, I don’t know why..., oh, and I am holding hands with a girl I just met,” Jamie related excitedly. “She has big dark eyes and long black hair braided just like yours is, Grand Ma-ma! Can you see her?”
“No, Jamie, I can’t, but I need you to listen to me very carefully right now. Your gift works in strange ways, outside the world of normal physics. You and your new friend have used the gift to stop a very powerful ferryboat by using its own power against it. That power has built up like when you squeeze a spring. Only, in your case, the spring is really big now and holds enough power to throw the ferryboat all the way back to the landing! If that power is not released in some other way, people could be hurt or even killed,” his grandmother quickly explained.
“I think I understand, Grand Ma-ma but I don’t know what to do,” Jamie cried.
“If only I were there to guide you,” Ma-ma Boudreaux fretted wringing her hands.
“Qui est-elle?” (Who is she?), the dark-eyed girl asks.
“She is my Grand Ma-ma,” Jamie replied not entirely sure how he is able to understand her question.
“Elle a l'air sage,” (She looks wise), the girl added.
“You can see my Grand Ma-ma?” Jamie asks incredulously.
“Oui! Elle me dit quoi faire,” (Yes! She tells me what to do), the girl explained as her dark eyes gradually lose focus.
After a moment, Jamie feels a weight lifted from his thin shoulders as he stands at the railing still holding hands with the dark-eyed girl. Huge bubbles begin to roil to the surface of the muddy river as the water boils furiously around the ferryboat throwing clouds of steam high into the air. The suddenly liberated ferryboat shudders once and bobs like a cork before turning lazily to float downstream with the current.
The skipper immediately hit the palm-button to sound the klaxon below decks as he called ‘stand-clear’ over the squawk box and waited tensely with one hand poised above the throttles. The engineer replied ‘clear’ five seconds later and he rolled the throttles of the ferry’s diesels fully forward and spun the wheel toward the landing on the far shore as he shook his head, “Juste au moment où je pensais avoir tout vu....” (Just when I thought I had seen everything....)
Claire gasped and poked Thibault in the ribs to get his attention when she sees Jamie staggering towards them being supported by a dark-eyed girl with long black hair braided in a thick pony-tail. Ducking from under the young man’s arm draped over her shoulders, she releases the obviously exhausted young man into his confused parents’ arms.
“C'est un plaisir de vous rencontrer, je m'appelle Deidre,” (It is a pleasure to meet you, my name is Deidre) she says extending a hand in greeting.
“Anglais...?” Claire asks hopefully.
“Oui! Of course! It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Boudreaux. Ma-ma Boudreaux sends her love, too! Veuillez m'excuser, I must return to my family. They will be concerned.”
Claire and Thibault stand in awe and watch as Deidre turns on her heel, the long black pony-tail swaying as she walks away.
“What just happened?” Thibault asks Claire furrowing his brow as Jamie snores obliviously sitting on the bench between them.
FMJ
Technical Senior
(13)
An hour later as Thibault and Claire are driving north toward home, Jamie sits up in the back seat and opens bleary eyes to look about in confusion.
“Ma-ma! Pa-pa! Where are we?” Jamie cried out.
He remembered a ferry boat, and..., and, there was a girl, a girl with dark hair in a braid like Grand Ma-ma, wasn’t there? Yes! There had been a girl that held his hand while they stood at the railing! But now he was in a car with his Ma-ma and Pa-pa on a road. How did he get here? Oh, no! Had he said goodbye to the girl with the long dark hair, or did he get embarrassed again and walk away? He couldn’t remember!
“It’s alright, Jamie,” Claire responded soothingly. “You were asleep when the ferry got to the landing and your Pa-pa carried you to the car. Everything is fine. We are on our way home.”
“But I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye to the girl!” he wailed. “We were holding hands!”
“Oh, do you mean, Deidre, Jamie?” Claire asked trying to keep a straight face. “A girl brought you back to us on the ferry just before you fell asleep by the name of Deidre. Was she the one? She seemed very nice.”
At that moment, a very familiar girl’s voice with a captivating French accent spoke inside Jamie’s head and startled him to silence. At first, he thought it must be coming from the radio, but the radio didn’t seem to be playing. "Jamie, chérie, pourquoi voudrais-tu dire au revoir?" (Jamie, dear, why would you want to say goodbye?)
“I..., I don’t understand. Deidre?” Jamie replied aloud in response.
“Yes, she said her name was Deidre,” his mother repeated.
“No, Ma-ma, you don’t understand. She is in here..., now,” Jamie replied touching a finger to his forehead. “I can hear her in my head.”
“Dear Jamie, our minds are linked together now. I will always be right here, so very close, whenever you want to talk. Oh, also I am so excited! Grand Ma-ma has promised to teach us more about our gifts!”
“Where are you now?” Jamie asks aloud puzzled.
“Right now, I am on an airplane with my parents flying back to my home in Quebec.”
“Can you talk to my Grand Ma-ma, too?” Jamie asks.
“Oui! She sends her love, dear Jamie,” Deidre replies.
Barely moving his lips, Jamie whispers, "I miss you, Deidre."
“Et tu me manques aussi mon amour,” (And I miss you too my love) she replies instantly though she is so very far away.
Siskiyoumom
Veteran Member
Cool beans...destiny....
Dumb Blonde
Contributing Member
Yes, and I'd love to read more! 
FMJ
Technical Senior
“Deidre? Please tell my Grand Ma-ma that I love her and miss her, too,” Jamie adds a little self-consciously.
“She knows,” Deidre replies through their link and just for a moment, he can see the sun reflecting warmly from the water in Little Bayou Pigeon.
Ma-ma Boudreaux sits on the sturdy bench beside the little dock and nods with approval as she half listens to the water and a girl speaking in melodic French of her grandson’s love.
“She knows,” Deidre replies through their link and just for a moment, he can see the sun reflecting warmly from the water in Little Bayou Pigeon.
Ma-ma Boudreaux sits on the sturdy bench beside the little dock and nods with approval as she half listens to the water and a girl speaking in melodic French of her grandson’s love.
FMJ
Technical Senior
(14)
With a weary sigh, Dr. Williamson lined out the last entry, ‘elevation’ from the hand-written list with a firm, absolutely straight strike-through. An explanation for the complete absence of wind or storm surge damage within the circular anomaly remained stubbornly elusive. Given that the mean distance above sea level within the anomaly was slightly less than five feet overall, it simply wouldn’t fit.
Evidence did exist for the support of a shielding explanation where topography or an adjacent structure generated a ‘wind shadow’, but certainly not in the shape of a perfect circle. Some sort of severe atmospheric ‘down burst’ could possibly explain their observations, but the force required to completely exclude an eleven-foot storm surge from a three-mile diameter circle would have been astronomical. It would have resulted in significantly greater damage, not less. In exhaustion, he rubbed his face in his hands. He could find no evidence to support his theory that the storm surge was excluded from the anomaly by a force originating from inside it.
“Okay, could the operational force responsible be exerted from a point outside the anomaly?” Dr. Williamson asked aloud as he examined the geodetic map of the area once again. Noting the similarity of the circular anomaly to the eye of a hurricane, he made some general calculations from the storm’s wind speed and direction plots against time and converted the results to units of barometric pressure.
“The theory only approaches plausibility if you consider the anomaly strictly as a closed system, but what could possibly account for a cyclonic wind storm to become stationary and anchor itself over one particular place?” he mused. “Perhaps we should have paid more attention to the area surrounding the anomaly than the anomaly itself,” Dr. Williamson admitted while absently rubbing his hand that had begun to have that odd tingling sensation again.