(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.”