Gator Boy Page 7

  “Well if y’all got room on that boat for two more, I reckon we’ll be going with y’all.”

  Jed looked over at Nonette as if to say ‘you’ve got to be kidding’ when Nonette leaned over and under her breath said, “Don’t be too quick to say no, Sher. They the two I seen in my vision. I don’t know what part they play in all a dis, but they supposed to be wit us. Y’all got any supplies wit y’all?” Nonette asked.

  Jed, seeing that they had nothing with them but that big gun, chimed in, “Don’t worry about it, Miss Nonette. I’m a fisherman, remember? An’ I got plenty a fishing gear on dis boat. Hell, we can catch our dinner outa dis bayou.” Jed was really sort of relieved to finally have some help.

  “Y’all come on board,” he said.

  “We burning daylight.”

  Without question, the two left everything behind except for that big gun, boarded Gator Boy, and once again the hunt was on.

  Nonette and Mrs. Ford walked back to the stern of the boat and began talking. After Jed had gotten them well under way and it seemed like smooth sailing for a while he turned to the man and asked, “What’s yo’ name, podna?”

  “Ford, David Ford. How long till we catch up with that devil?”

  “Well, dat’s hard to say, my friend. Nonette had a vision and she was tole to head fo’ the swamps. So dat’s where we going. She practices the ole ways, ya know? An’ the spirits say head fo the swamps. She seen all a dis. She even seen y’all in dat vision. Hell, I wouldn’t a even stopped if she hadn’t tole me to. But all a dis is meant ta be. So I can’t answer yo’ question. All I know is you an’ ya ole lady got some part to play in dis or y’all wouldn’t even be here.”

  “That’s just great! You mean to tell me that we’ve joined up with a couple of wigged out Coon Ass swamp voo doo weirdos?”

  “Hey, look, busta, I’ll put yo’ ass off right here I hear any mo’ a dat shit. You got dat? Miss Nonette dare’s about as straight a shooter you ever gonna see. So choose yo’ words.”

  David’s wife, seeing what was going, on chimed in, “Look, honey. These nice people were good enough to take us along on this hunt. We sat there all day before they showed up without so much as a nibble. Miss Nonette’s right. That gator wasn’t down there. This is our chance to get that son of a bitch. So you just be nice, David, for the boys. We’re going to get a piece of that bastard if you just cool it.”

  “She’s right. You folks are offering a helping hand and I’m being an asshole. I apologize,” said David.

  “I’m sorry. It’s just that since that thing got my boys all I think about is sending his ass to kingdom come,” he continued.

  “Hell, don’t worry about it, man. Shit, we all uptight,” answered Jed.

  “You just hang in dare and we’ll get dat sucka. An dat’s a promise from Jed Gadon.”

  While there are some populated towns along the bayous, such as Catahoula, and Henderson, and the Indian Reservation at Charenton, where the people for the most part are educated and rurally civilized, there are other populated areas in St. Martin and St. Marry parishes that have never appeared on any map. Some of these nameless communities scattered along the maze of bayous that wind throughout the Atchafalaya Basin are what could only be described as sub-rural. These are people who have never been to any city. These are people who have no education. There are no telephones. Electricity is unknown. And indoor plumbing is nonexistent. There is no English spoken among the people who populate these little squalor communities. There are some who know that there is a world outside of theirs, but have no interest in coming into contact with it. None of these sub-rural people own a car or a truck, and they survive in the wilderness the way their ancestors did hundreds of years before them, simply living off of what the land offers. They live in structures constructed from bits and pieces of sticks and lumber that they manage to scrounge up. They are godless and mostly practice the old ways, if any beliefs at all. Most of these folks stick to the group and are very clannish. In some areas outsiders are absolutely not welcome and even hunted and killed.

  But even more backwoods than the folks in these nameless communities, occupying the bottom of the Coon Ass food chain, are small tribes of people who resemble aborigines. Totally primitive in their existence, one might imagine that they are viewing one of the tribes along the Amazon, or possibly in deepest Africa where the people wear only loincloths and roam barefooted, cooking over open fires and living in grass huts. Deep philosophy asks… Who is civilized and who isn’t? The answer is another question… Who but God can tell?

  As the anxious group of hunters made their way along Bayou Cocodre, Jed said with some relief in his voice, “Miss Nonette, look, dat’s Bayou Teche. Which way we goin’?”

  “Keep heading down bayou, my Sher. Dat sucka’s heading fo’ the swamps. Wit a little luck we can anchor outa Bellerose by late tonight. I figure if we can get an early start we might catch up wit him before he reaches Six Mile at Lake Varret. But all a dat depends on what way he takes us.”

  As they traveled steady and sure mile after mile the silence and spell of the bayou was finally broken when Jed spotted a commotion going on up ahead just as they were nearing Henderson. It looked like a small footbridge over the bayou had collapsed. Jed pulled Gator Boy over to the bank, as the bayou was impassable.

  Taking the opportunity to stretch their legs, they went over to see what all the excitement was about. A teenage boy was talking.

  “Well, me an’ Jake was fishin’ over the rail just like we always do when Jake got a hell of a bite. It was someting big. Jake asked me to help him hold on to it and I tried to, but whatever he had on dat line was stronger den us. I was lucky enough to let go when I did or dat ting woulda pulled me in, too. Jake wasn’t so lucky. He got pulled in right through the rail and down in the water. He came up once. He come up outa the water like he was flying towards me screaming wit a look from hell on his face. I couldn’t make out what had him. I tink it was a gator. The biggest one I ever saw. It had ole Jake swallowed up to the waist. I tink it looked at me standing dare. I saw it look right in my eye. It wasn’t no regula gator, either. It was a weird looking son of a bitch Then he went back under an dat was it. The water swirled an’ bubbled a little. Then the whole damn bridge started shakin’ like an earthquake or something. I barely made it off when the whole damn ting fell in. I tink dat gator was trying to knock me in, too. Soon as I shook it off, I looked down bayou an’ seen dat sucka swimming away. He ate po’ Jake. He ate him in one bite. Dat’s a twenty, twenty-five foota easy. Po Jake, he ate him.” The boy cried.

  Nonette looked over at Jed and said, “Come on, my Sher, we gotta go back.”

  Hearing what she said, David Ford stepped up in her face and said, “Go back? What, are you getting timid now that we’re right on his tail? Let’s go get that son of a bitch.”

  “Look, mista man,” said Nonette, right back in his face, “maybe you tink dis young gentleman gonna fly dat boat over dat mess in the bayou. Or maybe you wanna sit here on yo’ ass fo’ a few days till dese Coon Asses get dat mess cleaned up. Don’t you worry, mista man. Ole Nonette knows a channel dat goes clean around all dis mess about a mile back up dat way. So if you goin’ wit us, let’s go.”

  Nonette turned and walked away leaving Mr. Ford standing there feeling pretty sheepish. He mustered up what little dignity he had left and climbed back on the boat. Jed started the motor and headed out the way they had come in. Just as Nonette had said, about a mile back up the bayou there was a small channel. “Take dat way, Sher. We’ll be back on Bayou Teche in an hour, past dat bridge,” she said as she looked back at Mr. Ford.

  He looked away toward the bank. He knew he had made Nonette mad. And he realized after looking in her hard eyes that he did not want any trouble with her. The narrow channel twisted and winded as they made their way toward the junction at Bayou Teche. Nonette was standing at the stern of the boat, staring into the wake.

  “Look, Miss Nonette!” hollered Jed.
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  “We’re coming up on the turn off back on to Bayou Teche.”

  “Good. Now hack a left an’ we right back on course.”

  CHAPTER 8

  An hour went by as Nonette rode up front looking for any signs. Coming around one of the many winding turns in the bayou they caught sight of a family of backwoods bayou people all gathered on the bank. As they got closer and closer the scene grew more and more gruesome. What came into sight was a family of people dressed in rags, dirty and barefooted. A woman on her knees was crying, holding what was left of a half eaten man whose right arm and half of his chest and stomach had been bitten away. The older children stood there crying “Daddy”as they looked on. Two smaller children stared at their father, expressionless, seemingly in a daze, while two very young children ran up the bank of the bayou oblivious to what had happened. Once again birds were singing as a couple of blue cranes waded through the shallows foraging for food and nature continued on about its business uninterrupted in the midst of the horror on the bank.

  “I tink we back on his trail. What you say, mista man?” asked Nonette, looking back at Ford.

  Mister Ford leaned over the side of Gator Boy and threw up, sickened by the dreadful, macabre reality they had just witnessed. Nonette leaned over to Jed, who looked on in disbelief and said, “Hit it, my Sher.”

  “But shouldn’t we help um or somethin’?” Jed asked.

  “The only way we gonna help dose po’ folks is to stop dat killa what we afta. So let’s go.”

  Jed turned his head forward and hit full throttle. The hour was getting late and no one in the group had eaten. Nonette came up to Jed and asked, “Hey, Sher, you getting hungry?”

  “Well, I been so wound up I guess I ain’t had time to tink about it, but now dat you mention it I could eat the ass end of a mule,” replied Jed, grinning.

  “Well, Sher, we ain’t got no mule ass,” said Nonette, grinning back.

  “But we sho’ got dese gar balls and home made bread yo’ Momma gave me.”

  “All right! Let’s eat. Hey, Mista Ford. Y’all come up here and let’s eat something,” hollered Jed.

  “Y’all sure you have enough?” asked Mrs. Ford.

  “Mrs. Ford, we got plenty. Dis bag Jed’s Momma fixed up fo’ us must weigh five pounds.” answered Nonette.

  “Yeah, well, y’all just don’t worry about dat anyway. I can catch us our supper if I need to,” said Jed as he pulled the boat over to the bank.

  As the flat bottom boat slid up onto the muddy bank it came to a smooth stop. They all sat together as they ate, making small talk but not really saying much. As Nonette took a swig of water she happened to glance over to the opposite bank and her face went pale. Jed, picking up on her expression, first looked over to the other bank, seeing what appeared to be some type of park, and then back at Nonette and asked, “Damn, woman, you look like you saw a ghost. What the matta?”

  “Look over dare an’ tell me what you see,” she said.

  Jed put down his food and wiped his mouth on his sleeve as he looked back over to the other bank and said, “Well, let’s see here, Miss Nonette. It looks like some type of a camp or a park or sometin’.”

  “What’s dat sign over dare say?” she asked in disbelief.

  Jed, squinting his eyes, said, “Well, it looks like it says Au-Dessous De Le Arbre.”

  “What’s that mean?” asked Mrs. Ford, the Fords not being Cajun.

  “It means beneath the trees,” said Nonette, standing up and staring off into space.

  “Yeah, so?” asked Jed.

  “I seen dat sign in my vision dat night by the fire. Dat was the same night dat I seen you two,” she said pointing to the Fords.

  “Here we go with the hocus-pocus again,” said Mr. Ford as Melissa, his wife, elbowed him telling him to shut up.

  Looking over at Ford, Nonette said, “You tink it’s just chance you along on dis trip, mista man? If it hadn’t been shown, you’d still be sitting on the tailgate a dat pickup wit ya Sunday roast getting water logged in Bayou Cocodre. So watch what you say from here on out. I got no time fo’ yo’ shit.” As she spoke she threw what was left on her plate over the side and continued, “Jed, we meant to be here. We didn’t just stop here cause we was hungry. Dis may be the place it all happens. So everybody be ready. If you tink dis is all hocus pocus, mista man, you just go over dare an’ lay on yo’ ass an’ take a nice long nap. We’ll wake you up when it’s all over. If you wanna be part a dis we all take turns standing watch till dat gator shows hisself, starting wit you,” she said, pointing over to Ford.

  Melissa elbowed David again as he wiped his mouth stood up and said, “Look, Miss Nonette, I’m sorry if I’ve acted improperly. I haven’t meant any disrespect and I hope I haven’t offended you. It’s just, since my boys died I haven’t been myself. I used to be a nice man. Now I hate everything and everybody. Especially myself for letting those two boys go fishing on that day,” he said, wiping the tears from his eyes.

  Nonette’s face went from a scowl to compassion as he continued, “All I can think about is killing that -- thing.”

  “Once we kill dat ting you call it, you still gonna miss dose boys. But I know how you feel. Dat son of a bitch got my Louis, too. But don’t let dat hate eat you up. Cuz afta dat sucka’s gone, life goes on. Don’t worry, mista man. Ole Nonette ain’t mad wit you. From here on out we all work together,” she said, extending her hand.

  Night was beginning to fall as Jed broke out a few sleeping bags. “Well, I only got three pallets. But wit one of us all standing watch, dat’s all we need.”

  Nonette walked over to Ford and said, “Well, Mista Ford, I guess we gonna turn in. If you see anything you call out. Wake me up at midnight an’ I’ll take over, OK?”

  “No problem, Miss Nonette. I’ll keep my eyes peeled till then. Go on, get some rest.”

  Nonette put her hand on his shoulder and shook her head in approval then walked over and stretched out on her sleeping bag. Darkness fell and the hours passed. The sounds of the bayou went on for hours. Later, even the sounds of the inset’s chirping and buzzing died down and all that could be heard was the sound of the ripples in the water lightly touching the bank. The tranquil and soothing bayou evening lulled him off to sleep and David Ford’s head fell as he drifted off into slumber. The hour was ten minutes to twelve. He only had ten more minutes. He was exhausted and thought he could make it, but he couldn’t. Unfortunately for him that would soon prove to be a fatal mistake, for just yards away in the murky water the beast lay in wait.

  The monster knew that the boat above had been following it. And it knew why. He had not collapsed that bridge up bayou to get that other boy. He had done it in hopes of stopping their pursuit. He also knew who was on that boat and what they planned to do. Perhaps that’s why he was hanging so close. Although he could not control his actions, the last shreds of humanity left in his soul cried out to be stopped.

  We’ve all heard the saying sleeping with one eye opened. Well, that’s just how a gator sleeps. As the creature slept below, drifting in and out of sleep, dreams and shadows of a past life flashed in its mind; memories of a life once enjoyed before the nightmare began. Then visions of the horrible things it had done in recent days began flashing in its head like slides on a screen. Something snapped inside of the creature, triggering a deep anger. It began swimming around under the surface of the tranquil bayou.

  Then, catching sight of Ford sleeping by the edge of the boat, like a flash of lightning it shot up out of the water. With its two clawed hands holding on to the side of the boat it cocked its head, hesitating momentarily. Who knows, maybe Ford sensed a presence, or possibly his own impending doom, as his eyes opened revealing his fate. His face tensed and he started to scream out only a second before the gator swallowed his head and shoulders in its mouth, quickly pulling him down into the black water. The whole morbid scene only took seconds and was done so quietly none of those sleeping even stirred. The rest of the ni
ght passed uneventfully.

  The next morning at the Bellerose community center, Trish, the bus driver for the Au-Dessous De Le Arbre day camp was just conducting the pre-trip check of her bus. As the alcoholic mechanic walked up she asked him, “Hey Brent, did you get dat problem fixed wit the fuel pump on dis bus? The last ting I need today is to get stuck… again.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I told ya I took care of it, didn’t I? You ain’t gonna get stuck… again. Dat’s a promise.”

  “OK, boy. I’m gonna hold you to it,” replied the driver.

  Brent said to himself, “Nagging bitch.”

  As he disappeared around the corner he turned up a half pint of vodka. The drunk never even looked at the fuel pump.

  A short time later, awakened by the sound of the busload of kids pulling up at the park across the bayou, Nonette was the first to rise. Her blood ran cold as she read the name Au-Dessous De Le Arbre on the side of the bus. The things she had seen while in trance flashed in her head. This was exactly as shown in her vision. Noticing that he was gone, she looked around for David Ford. That big gun of his was still leaning in the corner where he had set it last night before dozing off.

  “David! You out dare, Mista?” she hollered into the woods just off the bank.

  Jed And Melissa woke up as Nonette hollered out, “Mista Ford, you out dare?”

  “What’s up?” asked Jed, sitting up and scratching his head.

  “Mista Ford’s gone.”

  “Gone? But where? Oh my God!” said Melissa as she jumped up.

  “David, where are you? David!”

  The commotion on the boat was suddenly interrupted by a commotion on the other side of the bayou. The busload of kids had unloaded and children were running up and down the bank of the bayou noisily playing.

  Suddenly, like a huge black demon, the monster emerged from the still water. It let out a sound almost like that of a cat hissing, only much louder and much more fierce. The children saw the monster approaching and within moments poured back onto the bus screaming in terror, all except for one. The child was a deaf mute. Because his back was turned looking toward the lady bus driver who was also his mother, he was unaware of the horror creeping up behind him. His mother, who, on the other hand, was totally aware, was running toward him. She snatched her son up in her arms just as the monsters jaws snapped at the boy. Turning in panic for the bus she ran as fast as she could with the creature snapping at her heals. She made it to the bus only inches ahead of the monster, somehow miraculously closing the door in its face as it proceeded to follow her on. The creature crawled all over that bus, almost turning it over several times as the children inside screamed. You could hear the driver trying to start the engine. That poor bus driver found out the hard way that the mechanic had not fixed the fuel pump. With one lash of its tail the beast broke out the windshield. Although he was way too large to fit inside, reaching in with its huge jaws, it managed to snatch the driver right out of the seat. The scene was straight from hell as the creature devoured the bus driver standing right there over the hood of the bus with all the kids looking on.