Chapter 105

Voice in my head: Here we are again old girl.

Me: I told you to stop calling me old girl.

Liam: Just a figure of speech. I know thirty eight isn't old.

Me: Trust me, it's old enough...

As I had the conversation with my imaginary friend I looked through the dirty window. The view wasn't anything special. The swamp is just grass and water with a few trees on what little dry land there is.

If I hadn't loved the weather on the gulf coast, I would have run farther. In the two months I had been Gracie Allen, I had not seen a soul who had any chance of recognizing me. Since I had given the reporter and cameramen the slip by not really going on the cruise, no one else even looked. There might have been someone with a score to settle, but I was just too hard for them to find for them to bother.

In those two months I had learned to fish. I had pretended to fish a few other times in my life, but as Gracie I really fished. I even learned how to fillet and cook the smelly little bastards. Yeah that's how bored I was.

I heard the small outboard motor slow, then stop as the boat glided to my little dock.

Juan: Hello in the house Miss Gracie.

Juan wasn't Mexican or even Hispanic at all, he had informed me when we first met. He was a Latin coon ass Cajun.

Me: Well if it ain't my favorite Cajun. What you doing in the weeds?

I knew what he was doing, but it was what people did on Cord Bayou. You just never assumed anything. One always asked.

Juan: Why, I come to take you fishin Cher.

Me: Juan what am I going to do with all the fish you catch? I can't eat them all.

Juan: I'm gonna make you a partner. I'm gettin' too old to do this alone.

He was right about that. He must have been eighty. I sure as hell hoped I was as sharp as him when I am eighty. If it weren't for the white hair and skin like leather, he could have passed for fifty. Well he didn't have any teeth and he ate with his hands, but otherwise he could have. He was active enough for sure.

Me: If you don't have anyone else, I will go with you. About all I can do is pull you out if you fall overboard. (I smiled when I said it.)

Juan: I ain't never fell out of no boat sober, but I shore do thank you for the offer.

He had the most interesting smile for a man with no teeth. I couldn't help it. I wondered how it would feel to have someone like him perform oral sex on me.

Liam: Are you out of your fucking mind?

Me: Liam, I have also wondered what it would like to fuck a ghost, but I never did.

When I laughed I knew Juan was thinking I was a crazy woman. Even if he did, he didn't cancel his invitation. Hell why would he, I was free labor. On the Bijou everyone traded favors so now I had a favor in the bank.

There were a lot of tourist and day fishermen who came around, but not many residents. Hell I had to drive all the way to New Iberia to buy groceries. I couldn't live on fish. No matter how much I would liked to have lived off the Bijou. I liked rice okay, but not enough to eat it everyday.

However I did tried the Ultimate Alaskan Survival Diet, that first month I had lived on the swamp. It was simply a pound of rice, a pound of any dried beans, plus whatever I could kill or catch in the bayou. I stayed on it the necessary three days, then stuffed myself on Big Macs. After that one day it was back to the rice, beans and whatever I could come up with.

After I bought the cabin on stilts at the edge of the water, I traded the cute little car I had Wilson buy for me. For it I got a five year old Jeep SUV that looked like a station wagon to me. The Jeep came with a three year bumper to bumper warranty from the used car dealer, so the price reflected it.

I had paid cash for the car as part of my new identity. Its value exceeded that of the Jeep. But since it was the most basic and cheapest vehicle Nissan sold in America the trade was almost even. The dealer did throw in a five hundred dollar gift card to Walmart.

With that card I bought a sleeping bag, a couple of fishing rods, a .22 Magnum lever action rifle with a scope. The clerk called it a saddle rifle since it had a short barrel.

I also bought a .22 single shot bolt action open sight rifle, and of course a short barreled 12 gauge shotgun. The shotgun was an over and under. I had been reading a police novel on the Internet. It seems about the only way to trace a shotgun killing was by the marks on the shells left by the ejector and the firing pin. I could pocket the used shells from the over and under without hunting for them in the dark as might be necessary with a pump gun.

I had to add a couple of hundred bucks to the card in order to pay for all items but they were well worth it.

Middle aged clerk at the register: That's a lot of fire power for a little lady like you.

I should have commented on the need to protect myself from fat bald Walmart employees. But I didn't.

Me: Gifts for my Brother and his family. (Sure it was a lie, but so what.)

The cabin came furnished, if you could call it that. The bed was a small metal cot with open wire springs and a too soft foam mattress. It was definitely some kind of modern torture device. The power came from the local co-ops grid, so I had wires for that but nothing else tied me to civilization.

Realtor: Landlines are not available, but everyone has a cell phone these days anyway. Since you have electric power, you can always get a satellite dish. They are big around here. There is a WiFi hot spot at a truck stop on the highway. You know to check your email.

It sounded close enough to being off the grid to let me disappear. At least for the year I figured it needed for all that bullshit about the American Foreign Legion to blow over. So I took the place I paid $38,000 for the one large room cabin. It had a beautiful porch, since it sat right on the water. From that porch I could also fish, if I were so inclined. The place came with an acre of land. It was my plan to poach, if I wanted to hunt. So the small amount of land didn't bother me at all. I had never hunted in my life, but there was always the Internet as a learning tool.

The very first week I made careful measurements of the cot then had Home Depot cut me a piece of 1/2 inch plywood to hold the mattress. I didn't remove the springs because I feared that if I did I would be sleeping on the floor. I had no idea what held the cot together. I had two very large pieces of plywood left over. They ended up nailed between the post of the shed. With the junkie look to the shed, the camp would fit in with the others along the edge of the Swamp

Juan: Cher, throw that net over the boat like I showed you.

Me: You are a terrible boss. (I did laugh as I said it) I may just go on strike.

Juan: If you go on strike, I hope you like to swim with the gators.

It was hard to be pissed since he had a huge toothless grin. I just smiled and threw the net over the side. He had pulled his boat into one of the many large branches that fed the swamp. The fish from the swamp passed in and out of the opening to feed in the stream. I had no idea if it was legal to gill net the branch or not. I also didn't care. It was a small crime and Juan was the skipper, not me. It took only a few minutes to string the net.

Juan: You know Cher, I used to net twenty times that much swamp.

Me: So what happened?

Juan: I got old. That's what always happens to people. You be careful you don't get old.

Me: Some days I doubt I will make it to be old. Some others I think I am a survivor and will live forever like a cockroach.

I smiled because the conversation was one I might have had with a counselor, if I believed in their value. Juan also made me very comfortable. As he had said before, he was too old for games.

Juan: Cher, you goin' to the dance at the community center on Friday?

Me: I hadn't planned on it. You asking me for a date?

Juan: If it was a father / daughter dance I would. There are going to be a lot of men that work out on the water there. Be a chance for you to work the kinks out. (he wore another of those huge grins). You know shrimpers and oil men like to dance.

Me: I'm just going to stay home and play with myself on Friday.

Juan: What a waste. You a pretty girl, even if you be too skinny for some.

Me: Hey a woman can never be too skinny.

Juan: That might be true in Hollywood, but this here be the swamp. A woman needs to look healthy.

Me: I'll remember that.

He took me back to the cabin with no mention of retrieving the net. I suspected that Juan wanted to grill me on the upcoming dance. He was most likely the Miss Sadie of the Cord Bayou.

I had been on the Swamp two months without a boat. I had fished mostly off my dock while reading spam on my mini pad. I hadn't bothered with the Satellite TV or the Truck Stop WiFi. I just bought a comprehensive wireless plan. It had no limit Internet and cell service. I could have gotten by with ten minutes of cell phone a month since only the locals knew I was living on the swamp. They tended to stop by rather than call probably because I didn't appear to be the chatty type.

On Friday to celebrate the community center dance, I got the hell out of the area. During the day I drove to New Iberia in search of a boat. I wanted one that would hold a trolling motor and fit inside my Wagon/SUV. What I bought was a 12 foot aluminum boat which was no wider than a Perot. It had a few built in float devices so that I couldn't sink it, if I wanted. It was light enough that one man could, in theory, launch it.

Since I wasn't one man, I bought a dolly with bicycle wheels. With the fancy dolly, I could roll it to the water then simply tip it in. The dolly had rollers on top so that the boat would roll easily into the rear of my car or into the water. The tall dolly had been made in the rear of the boat shop. They sold one with almost every small boat.

Two months and I still haven't found a cafe within a bike ride of my cabin. I most likely will starve after the two months on the Ultimate Survival Diet. If I don't find somewhere to eat around here by then, I thought.

Juan: How you feel about take away food?

Me: You mean like McDonalds? I asked it getting my hopes up.

Juan: Not that shit, real food. You just can't stay there to eat it. The Parish Managers done decided that anybody can sell a few things from home. They just can't be a sit down without a license. They never did say what a few things meant.