Dead on the Bayou. June Shaw
quickened while I motored, regular houses becoming less apparent, and I knew I was approaching his camp. Dave was the first man I believed I might truly love, although I had married once. Poor self-esteem probably made me agree to that marriage. Now I felt a mutual attraction with Dave, although he never actually said so or acted on romantic feelings during the few times I’d been around him. With Eve experiencing such unhappiness now, I would wait until she perked up before I made her aware of my interest in him. It would be cruel to do otherwise.
My heartbeats thrummed faster during the drive. Rustic unpainted cypress buildings sat up on piling or squatted all along the waterway. A couple of ancient small camps leaned toward the bayou like they were trying to decide whether to or not to slide in and swim. With my truck windows open for the unique swampy smell, I enjoyed the gumbo of scents from algae-tinted water to that of fresh crabs, which made me hungry for some. Occasional shrimp boats moored with their trawl nets raised like butterfly wings emitted the odor of shrimp peelings left out in the sun, not all that pleasant, but combining with the others to create something I could smell nowhere else, and I wanted as much of that scent as I could get.
Fewer buildings sat along this road and fewer still the number of vehicles, mostly trucks, parked around them. These were fishing camps, unlike some of the finer ones in other areas down here, although their owners enjoyed these getaway places just as much. Tall wild lavender irises, white lilies, and purple hyacinths decorated the water’s edges. In the bayou, three small turtles sunbathed on a slim branch. A snake slid through low dry grass into the brown water. Not far past it, a snowy egret searched for food. Farther along, I was thrilled to spot a roseate spoonbill that resembled a flamingo soaring over the water. A large blue heron sat on a wharf and an adolescent boy stood on a different wharf with a fishing pole bending over. I eyed the pole, wanting to know what he would bring in, but then spotted Dave’s truck. Any interest I had in that fish vanished. I pulled behind Dave’s truck on his gravel driveway, swallowed, and got out.
An electric saw whined from about seventy yards beyond, where a man on his wharf sliced through wood. Out in the water behind these camps, an alligator slid along the bayou’s surface, its heavy tail propelling it in a steady rhythm.
“It isn’t a thing of beauty, but I don’t plan to live here.” Dave stood three feet beside me, his surprising nearness making me gasp. “Oh, it’s that bad?” His hot chocolate eyes were bright beneath his slightly longish black hair.
“No, not at all.” I’d hardly glanced at this structure he’d bought and was speaking about him, not any walls, windows, or roof.
“Look through the place before you decide that.”
Right. Check it out instead of you. “I just saw an alligator.” I pointed, and he took steps closer to the bank. We watched it slide farther away from shore.
“I heard there are a lot of others around. We’ll try to stay out of their way and hope they stay out of ours, okay?” he said.
He smiled, and I laughed. I had lived down here long enough to have seen a few gators, although not nearly as many as folks from other places seemed to believe we encountered. Many people lived down here all their lives, and the only gators they saw resided in Audubon Zoo in New Orleans. Most of us southerners still felt a small thrill of excitement and a tingle of fear when we witnessed one. Most of us, except for gator hunters, respected them and would be afraid to encounter one up close.
“You like to fish enough to want a camp?” Lots of people owned camps, but the men’s love for fishing or hunting was normally passed down from fathers, uncles, and grandfathers. Since Dave had only lived in south Louisiana a year or so, his interest in outdoor sports surprised me.
He cupped his hand below my elbow to lead me back up the drive. I tried to ignore the distracting feelings that came from his touch. Dave guided me past the stacks of two-by-fours and plywood in the carport to a door.
“I’ve only been fishing a few times with a friend who had a boat. Since I wasn’t very good at it, I made the fish happy. I thought they wouldn’t mind if I went out around them again.” He stepped closer to me as we walked to the doorway and made me happy, too.
I stopped moving and stared at him. “You’ve only fished a couple of times, and now you want a camp? Do you own a boat?”
With a laugh, he shook his head. “Not even a fishing line yet, but I’m hoping to get both of those soon. First I want a place where I can spend the night and wake up before the sun does since I was told that’s when the fish bite best.”
“Usually, but not always.” I moved away from him so I could pay attention to the structure. After all, that’s why he wanted me here. We had entered a kitchen, an old-fashioned one with a sheet vinyl floor, white freestanding stove, small white refrigerator, and scratched stainless steel sink.
“It sounds like you know a bit about catching fish. Maybe you’ll go fishing with me and give me some tips.” He stood near, his smile reeling me in.
“I’m not the best, but I have caught my share.” Pulling my interest away from romance, I touched the laminate countertop. Its sparkles of gold brought out the antique finish that lent a suggestion of real marble. “This is nice. I don’t see any cracks or chips, but I don’t know what you plan to change.”
“Probably not a whole lot right now. This was someone’s camp, and that’s all I’ll use it for. I’ll just fix up a few things gradually.” He took steps away from me and waved his hand toward the floor and the walls.
“Maybe a fishing line will come first,” I said with a grin, looking forward to going out in a boat with him and teaching him how to cast. My mind then conjured images of him and me working together to make improvements in here. We could change that vinyl floor, add a wharf in back over the water, and see what else we could do with the rest of this place. The more I imagined us as a real couple, the more I felt drawn to him—a place I should not be yet with my sister so fragile. Our other sister had been murdered. Keeping this sister on solid footing remained most important right now.
I hoped more than ever that Eve would come out of that gloomy state soon. I didn’t have much experience with romance, but the vibes I received from Dave’s smiles, nearness, and suggestion made me more assured that he might also be interested in me.
We walked together down a small hall. Feeling his closeness even more, I barely glanced into the two bedrooms, bath, and utility room. In the wider living area, I stopped. “I know most camps aren’t fancy, and I don’t find any real problems here. But how about if I bring Eve over to check it out with us? She might come out of her doldrums or see something I’d miss.”
He agreed, and we walked out the door to the carport.
“So you think this place has potential?” he asked.
“Definitely.”
“Sometimes I’ll want to just come out here to relax and feel the breeze and enjoy the wildlife.”
“That’s an excellent idea.”
“I could do some of the fixing up myself, but I work a lot of hours and could use a few suggestions and help with implementation.”
Ideas flowed through my head for things that might improve this place. But what he wanted to use it for and all-out sprucing clashed in my mind. “A lot of decisions will depend on how much you want to spend on this project.”
“That’s something I haven’t decided on yet.”
“I’ll bring Eve over to get her suggestions.”
He smiled the intense smile that made me decide I had better get away from him. Dave pulled keys from his pocket, unclasped a link on his key ring, and pulled one key off. “Take this. That way you can bring her in even if I need to be at work.”
“I won’t come inside if you aren’t around unless we agree to do some work here. We haven’t agreed to that yet.” As tempting as it was to have a key to a place he owned, I kept my arms against my sides and my hands closed.
He