“Well maybe you shoulda, seeing as how your ‘discussing it’ didn’t amount to much.”
Harlon cast a funny eye on her. “What’s wrong, Mama? You seemed okay enough with things last night…”
“’Cause I thought things would be sorted come morning. Now I see the two of you ain’t sorted squat. Tucker puttin’ ideas in your head?”
Harlon stopped feeding his congregation and faced his mother. “You needn’t worry about Tucker, Mama. My baby brother’s harder than a stone pecker. You know that.”
“I know he’s grieving over Jolene and the baby. Maybe he’s not thinking right.”
“And yet he’s over the Daigle place now, cleaning up all traces we ever been. His idea to do that.”
“Okay fine, good. But then he needs to get rid of all traces. That means them boys in there.”
“Says it’s not necessary.”
“Doesn’t make any damn sense!” Ida’s chest was heaving. “Used to be the two most ruthless boys around. Now you’ve gone and turned full-faggot on your Mama!”
Harlon laughed. Ida slapped him. Harlon took it without flinching and fought the urge to keep laughing.
“Them boys in there,” Ida began, “you think keeping them alive is some kind of charity, do you? They had front row seats to what you boys done to Ron and Adelyn. And then you carrying on about making them feed Ron’s legs to your flock.”
Harlon fought another urge to laugh. He waved an innocent hand. “Ah, I was just having a little fun, is all. I ain’t gonna do it, of course. Besides, I sure recollect you laughing when I said it, Mama.”
Ida carried on with her train of thought, refusing to acknowledge her son’s fact. She pointed to her own head now. “Killing their minds is what you already done, Harlon Roy! Them boys are never gonna be the same no matter what you and Tucker got planned. You’d be doing them a favor by ending it all right now, not to mention wiping up every last bit that might trace things back to us. Sheriff might be afraid to ruffle the feathers of the likes of you and Tucker, but even he won’t turn a blind eye to no murder when those boys do decide to talk one day.”
Harlon expelled the last of his need to laugh with a defeated sigh. “Ah hell, I know you’re right, Mama. I’ll speak to Tucker again when he gets back.”
“We’ll speak to Tucker when he gets back.”
Harlon shrugged. “I’m telling ya, Mama, his mind seems pretty made up.”
“And so just what the hell is he suggesting we do with these boys then?”
Harlon shrugged again. “Don’t know. But you saw him in there with Adelyn—cut her throat and made sure everyone was watching. When he thinks it’s in the right, he don’t hesitate.”
“Well then I guess we need to prove to him that getting rid of those Daigle boys is in the right.”
Harlon dropped a hearty leg of deer. “I suppose we do.”
“Travis,” Ida said.
“Huh?”
“We let him think he’s putting Travis in danger by keeping those boys alive. Already lost his wife and unborn, he’d sooner take his own than lose Travis.”
“Oh come on, Mama, he’s been working like a dog to shield Travis from all of this. Boy’s been at a sleepover with lips sealed since.”
“And when he comes back?”
“Up to Tucker, I suppose.”
“You ain’t supposing shit.”
“I’m just not letting it bother me now is all. We’ll think of something, Mama. Have a little faith in your boys.”
Ida sighed, yet her cynicism still blazed. “Fine. But this mess, this is yours and Tucker’s responsibility. I ain’t involved with caring for those little shits, lessen Tucker wises up and decides to do the right thing. Then I want all parts of being involved.”
Harlon smirked. “Apple don’t fall far, do it, Mama?”
“I guess we’ll see, won’t we?” She turned abruptly and went inside.
Harlon chuckled and shook his head. He then looked up as he heard the faint motor of Tucker approaching on the river, could just make out the chainsaw sitting next to him on the boat. Time to get to work.
Chapter 14
Russ pulled the Lexus into the gravel lot. There were already a handful of vehicles, most of them weather-beaten pickup trucks that had logged six digits a lifetime ago. The Lexus was assuredly the new rich kid at the school of hard knocks, but money talked at this particular school, the language tourism. And while snide remarks and belches of contempt might well be the norm once he left, to his face, Russ and his brood would be welcomed with open arms.
Next to the lot stood a solitary shop the size of a one-story home. It was white and worn, the cracked and jagged strips of paint revealing the scorched wood beneath adding to its charm, as opposed to making it stand out as the renovation beggar it was.
A short walk beyond the shop, a dock—it too with its cup out for renovation—kept a row of fan boats in line. Beyond that, the whole world was swamp wilderness.
Liz squeezed Dan’s arm and snuggled in close, an eager smile on her face as she looked up at him. “Excited?”
Properly caffeinated, Dan’s exuberance was an easier sell. “Very.” He gripped his notebook in his left hand and glanced at it, a boy about to play with a new toy.
Russ returned from the shop flashing four tickets. “All set.”
“We’re getting Sam, right?” Vicky asked.
Russ nodded. “Guy at the shop said he was bringing in a crew now, and then he’ll be ready to take us out.”
Vicky turned to Dan. “We had Sam last time. Wait until you meet him.” Vicky puffed herself up and mimicked a big man. “Big, burly guy—as nice as they come. Like a southern Paul Bunyan.”
Russ chimed in. “If there’s something in the Everglades he doesn’t know about, it’s not worth knowing.” Russ glanced down at Dan’s notebook right after, a proud smile on his face.
Dan wanted to hug the guy. Such kindness to a stranger. Sure, he was dating his daughter, but Dan was a stranger to him, wasn’t he? His daughter could have been dating an asshole this whole time, for all he knew. And yet still, unconditional kindness. Dan felt a contradicting emotion of wanting to both protect and push Russ away; he was too nice a guy for this world…or there had to be something ugly about him, he just hadn’t seen it yet.
And the writer’s pessimism for the world continues unabated. Maybe try switching it off for a while, Mr. Half-empty?
“This is just too awesome,” Dan said, absorbing Russ’ proud smile and lobbing back his own of earnest gratitude. “Really, thank you so much.”
Russ waved a hand at him. “Just enjoy yourself, and take lots of notes. I want this to be a bestseller.”
“Now that would be nice,” Dan said.
“Burk?” A heavy voice said behind them. “Burk family?”
Russ raised a hand. “That’s us.”
Holy crap, it is a southern Paul Bunyan, Dan thought as the big man approached. The boots, the jeans, the red button down with a white long-sleeve tee underneath, the beard. All he needs is an axe and a blue ox. Maybe he has a blue gator somewhere. And doesn’t he sweat to death in all that stuff?
Dan got to ask once Russ and Vicky were finished informing Sam of their trip with him last year, how they’d requested him for doing such a wonderful job, and how they were here for Liz’s boyfriend’s latest book.
“Don’t you sweat to death in all those clothes?” Dan asked, after shaking Sam’s hand.
“Ah, it’s not so bad. The boots and sleeves keep the creepy crawlies out—” He brought up both hands and wiggled his thick fingers to mime said crawlies. “Plus, I’m sure they’ll tell you, it can get pret-ty breezy once I gun us through a couple of channels.”
“That it does,” Vicky said, holding up a windbreaker.
Sam pointed at Vicky. “Now there’s a swamp vet.”
Vicky took a bow.
Sam laughed and then clapped his big hands together in one loud pop. “Okay! Shall we get a move
on?”
Chapter 15
Sam was seated up high in the driver’s seat towards the back of the boat, controls in both hands like giant joysticks, the massive fan behind him like the back of an emperor’s throne. Russ and Vicky were seated at the bow, Dan and Liz behind them, closest to Sam. Dan had asked for this seat so he could pick Sam’s brain when the fan wasn’t blasting.
It wasn’t now, and Dan started picking away. “So the whole python problem is overblown?” he asked.
Sam nodded, steering them into a quiet inlet. “They’re out there, but not in the crazy numbers the media would have you think. That python hunt last year you were talking about? Something like 1,600 hunters volunteered. Guess how many they got?”
Dan said, “Less than a hundred.”
Sam pointed at Dan with a little smile. “He does do his homework.”
“But weren’t many quick to say that they netted so few because the ‘hunters’ were merely volunteers with no experience in catching pythons?” Dan asked.
Sam nodded. “Definitely some truth to that. In fact, they’ve gone and cancelled this year’s hunt. Decided instead to focus efforts on training folks to look for pythons properly. Better than a bunch of ‘hunters’ out there blasting away at anything that twitches in the bushes.” He winked at the Burks and they laughed. “Still, they’re out there—some of ’em big suckers—but they typically don’t bother us. Not unless they’re provoked. And even then, they usually won’t make us a meal.”
Dan eagerly nodded along; it was all stuff he’d researched before, but so very cool to hear it straight from the mouth of a hardened local like Sam. “We’re too big, right?” Dan asked.
Sam nodded. “Well, we are. Don’t know about those two—” He gestured to Vicky and Liz with a little smile.
“Oh stop it, you” Vicky said with a little shiver.
“Seriously though,” Dan said. “I’ve read reports about snakes and children. Surely they can’t differentiate between a child and a small adult?”
Sam raised an eyebrow at Dan, and then gauged Vicky and Liz’s reaction.
“Dan,” Liz said.
Dan splayed his hands. “What? It’s a legit question.” He turned back to Sam: “I think it would make for a great scene in my book if someone was swallowed by a snake. Obviously, I don’t want to make it a kid, so maybe a small adult would be believable?”
Sam gave Vicky and Liz another uncertain look.
Vicky waved a hand at him. “It’s fine.”
Sam shrugged. “Sure—I guess it’s believable; they swallow gators and deer. Still unlikely though. Can’t see a python having many opportunities for something that doesn’t live in the wild. And that’s the real problem with these snakes. Raccoon numbers alone have dropped more than ninety-nine percent in the last decade.”
“Ninety-nine percent?” Russ said with disbelief.
Sam nodded, a saddened look on his face. “Opossum and bobcat aren’t far behind with those numbers.”
“Bobcat?” Liz said. “They can catch a bobcat?”
“Well, not so much catch as surprise. Pythons are like gators in that they tend to lurk and wait, grabbing you when you’re not ready. Masters of peekaboo.”
“Yikes,” Russ murmured.
Dan jotted down Sam’s words, then turned to Liz. “I didn’t know the small mammal population had been affected that much. That might come in handy.”
Liz rubbed his knee. “Glad it helped. Though I think my mother now has a date with a snake nightmare later tonight.”
Vicky grunted in agreement.
Dan leaned forward and touched Vicky’s shoulder. “I appreciate the sacrifice, Vicky.”
“I expect to be on the acknowledgment page.”
“Deal.”
Sam smiled at their banter, and then began maneuvering the boat slowly into a narrow channel. Mangrove trees lined both sides of the channel, their spindly gray roots above water and tangled together into yards of thick fencing.
“Ready with that windbreaker, Mrs. Burk?” Sam asked.
“Yes, sir.” Vicky put the windbreaker on.
Now to the group: “You folks ready to fly?”
All eager nods.
Sam gunned the engine, the giant fan behind them roared, everyone whooped with excitement, and Dan would have sworn they actually did fly the entire length of the channel.
Chapter 16
Travis Roy came home to find no one there.
“Daddy? Meemaw?”
“Travis?”
It was coming from Uncle Harlon’s bedroom. Only it didn’t sound like Uncle Harlon.
He asked anyway. “Uncle Harlon?”
A loud whisper now. “Travis.”
Travis inched towards his uncle’s door, placed his ear to the wood. “Who’s there?”
“Travis, open up!”
Was that Ethan Daigle?
Travis opened the door. It was Ethan Daigle. And Noah Daigle. Tied up together in his uncle’s bed.
“Travis, you gotta cut us loose!” Ethan said in an urgent whisper.
Travis squinted as though trying to work out a riddle. “What’re you all doing in my Uncle Harlon’s bed? Why’re you all tied up?”
Ethan sat up as far as his binds would allow. “Travis, listen to me: your daddy and uncle killed our folks. Now they’re fixin’ to kill us next. You gotta cut us free.”
Travis frowned. “Daddy and Uncle Harlon did what?”
Ethan gritted his teeth, his loud whisper growing louder. “Killed our daddy and mama, and then tied us up in here. Only a matter of time before they get ’round to killing Noah and me next. You gotta cut us loose, alright? Travis?”
Travis took a step back and automatically touched the gator tooth around his neck. “I don’t believe it.”
Ethan’s frustration flushed his face. “Believe your own eyes, don’t you? How do you explain us being tied up like this?” Ethan gave a futile tug on his binds. “And we seen what they did to our folks! Made us watch!”
Travis shook his head adamantly, tears now rimming his eyes, his angst not because he didn’t believe, but that he was desperate not to believe. Because if true, it was his fault. All of it. He knew how his daddy and Uncle Harlon could be when it came to family. And hadn’t he known there would be retaliation for what happened to Mama? Yes. But not like this. Never could he have imagined something this bad. Chief among these sobering truths—and it had always been chief; just quiet since his mother’s accident, Travis’ simple-mindedness gifting him with an effortless ability to suppress, to subconsciously bury all that was scary as easily as pulling the covers up over one’s head to make the monsters go away—was that the accident with Mama would have never happened in the first place if it hadn’t been for his lies.
But now that simple-mindedness would not suppress. It was not a deep dig, after all. Did not require extensive tools of manipulation. Though no physical evidence of Mr. and Mrs. Daigle’s demise was shown, a bound Ethan and Noah, coupled with their words, was enough to bring everything to the surface intact.
His fault.
All of it.
Travis started full-on crying now.
“Travis!” Ethan said. “Travis, stop! Travis!”
Noah spoke. “Travis, I forgive you.”
Travis stopped crying and looked at Noah. He wiped tears from his eyes and sniffed hard. “Huh?”
“I forgive you for lying,” Noah said. “About the fight. About Ethan joining in. I forgive you. You won’t burn come judgment…not if you do the right thing now and cut us loose.”
Ethan’s anger became an instant eagerness. He followed his younger brother’s lead and spoke with the urgent whisper again. “That’s right, Travis. You cut us loose now, and you can make it right. All will be forgiven.”
Travis stepped towards the bed. And Ethan and Noah recoiled in fear. Travis frowned, confused. Then he felt and saw his meemaw’s twisted hand on his shoulder.
***
Ida Ro
y chose to stay in Harlon’s room with the Daigle boys while she lectured her grandson. She wanted them to hear.
“What was done was what needed to be done. You was there, Travis; you saw what happened to your mama.”
Travis, his gaze never leaving his meemaw’s—not from want, but because she kept a firm grip on his face with both hands, keeping their eyes locked on one another—said, in a timid voice: “But Mr. Daigle too?”
Ida cocked her head, studying the boy, scanning him for any rare signs of reason or empathy that needed snuffing. “Mr. Daigle too. An example needed to be made, boy. You take from a Roy, and we take it right back, and then some.”
“What about them?” Travis asked, eyes gesturing to the bed behind him because his head could not.
“It’s your daddy’s call. He reckons letting ’em go is the right move.”
Ida watched Ethan and Noah’s reaction out of the corner of her eye, saw the faintest glimmer of hope, and it fueled her performance that much more. “Problem is, Travis, I worry about what might happen to you if your daddy did such a thing.”
“Me?”
Ida nodded. “We let these boys go and they’re going straight to the police. And them police will see fit to locking up your daddy and Uncle Harlon for what they done. Already lost your mama; you wanna lose your daddy too?”
Travis shook his head in his grandmother’s hands.
“You will if we let these boys go.” Ida took a hand off Travis’ face and pointed to her head. “Your daddy’s not thinking right. He’s too upset about what happened to your mama and their unborn. He needs you now, boy. Your daddy needs you. You got to convince him that getting rid of these boys is the right thing to do, lessen you want to see your daddy fry for what he done; Uncle Harlon too.”
Travis shook his head again. He looked hypnotized by Ida’s words.
“A liar!” Ethan blurted from the bed. “Your Travis is a liar! All of this is his doing from the start! He just gone and admitted to us before you come!”
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