More Than a Hashtag, page 18
Whatever had ahold of my pack was pullin’ on somethin’ caught in my zipper. Everythin’ was tangled in the roots of a dead stump. I yanked hard while lookin’ up to see how close the flashlights were behind us. We had a pretty good lead, but they were still too close for comfort. I yanked again and heard a sharp snap from inside of my pack. It felt like somethin’ had been holdin’ on for dear life and then, suddenly, let go. I didn’t stop to see what it was. I just grabbed my pack and ran.
I caught up to Chilly just as we reached the tupelo grove where the boat was tied to the stump in the water. Chilly was already in the water, tryin’ to catch his leg over the side of the boat to get in. He had the boat rockin’ so bad, the nasty bayou water was splashin’ into the hull. I put the bamboo pole in my mouth and jumped in the water. I tossed my pack and the camera to safety in the boat. Then I shoved Chilly’s rear end with my shoulder hard as I could. He landed in the boat with a thud. As he grabbed my hand to pull me in, I reached back and pulled the rope offa the stump that held our boat secure.
I half expected the engine to sputter and stall like in the movies—when the shark is swimmin’ toward the hero, snappin’ its sharp teeth, but the boat engine won’t turn over ‘til the last second.
Thankfully, Bubba Boudreaux was immaculate in keepin’ his boats and engines runnin’ in peak condition, and it started right up on the first try. As good as it was to hear that engine start, the sound of the revvin’ motor was like a red flag wavin’ in front of a bull. Now the men chasin’ after us knew exactly where we were.
“Hey, I see ‘em over yonder by the bank.”
“They got a boat!”
“Shoot a hole through the damn thing!”
A whole lotta cuss words that woulda made a lady blush turned the quiet of the bayou into chaos. Shots rang out, splashin’ waves in the water ‘round us.
“Get your head down, Tee!”
Like I needed that bit of advice. My head was down so low in the boat, the disgustin’ water was gettin’ in my ears and nose. Luckily, the dark of night and Chilly’s navigatin’ skills got us outta range in a hurry. We’d live to tell our grandkids ‘bout this adventure someday.
Chilly ran the engine full throttle ‘til we got ‘round the bend past the Trahan’s camp. Then he throttled down and let our wake carry us silently into the black water of the bayou. Even ‘round the bend in the pond, we could hear the shouts and curses of the mens’ voices bouncin’ off the trees and ‘cross the water. We sat quiet, listenin’ for a minute, tryin’ to calm our nerves and catch our breath. I didn’t think nothin’ could stop my poundin’ heart from echoin’ in my ears.
“We did good, Chill-Man, but I hope we didn’t make a big mistake. Do y’all think they got a look at us?”
“Nah, we were outta there fast fast. Who’d suspect a coupla teenagers come snoopin’ on ‘em at night on Trahan’s Pond? ‘Specially after that rougarou picture contest.”
My heart slowed down at his words; he was probably right.
“What’s our next move?” Chilly asked, killin’ the engine.
“Ohhh, maudit! I gotta call Shondra ‘fore she gets the whole Cajun Navy out draggin’ the bayou for our bodies!”
“Bat Girl, this is Batman, come in. Bat Girl, this is—”
“BATMAN, you’re so dead! I swear on my life I was countin’ down the last nine seconds and then I was callin’ the sheriff and then—”
“Bat Girl, Shondra, GIRL, calm down! Operation Batcave was a success! It’s all five by five. We’ll debrief when we get to safe ground. Over and—”
“Five by five? What the crap is a five by five? I’m gonna debrief both y’all right in the—”
I hit the off switch ‘fore I heard what she was gonna debrief. It occurred to me I’d probably ended the shortest romance in the history of the South.
I was sure at this moment, LaShondra June Bell was throwin’ darts at my picture and was never gonna give me the time of day again. That girl was mad mad. I felt more scared of her’n the men from the warehouse who were searchin’ for us this very minute—with guns!
I sighed and started loadin’ my pack with all the stuff that had fallen out durin’ the mad escape.
“Dude, Tee,” Chilly said with a laugh, “I wouldn’t trade places with y’all for a fifty-pound sack of boiled peanuts. She’s stir-fried mad! Good luck, bro. It’s been nice knowin’ ya. Now, forget ‘bout Shondra a minute and think ‘bout our next move.”
“Well, we definitely need to hide the bamboo pole ‘til things cool down. When did you say you’d be done gator huntin’?”
“We got a few tags left. Monday and Tuesday we might tag those last gators. Definitely by Wednesday. I’ll be unpackin’ the gear with Daddy by Thursday. Maybe after school Friday let’s cut open that bamboo and see what’s in there.”
“Bad idea ‘bout the bamboo. That’s ‘tamperin’ with evidence.’ I’ll hide it somewhere at my house. But, while y’all are still workin’, I can get the pictures printed off at Landry’s. They have that machine ya put the memory card in and choose what to print. Nobody sees ‘em but the person who prints ‘em off.”
“Maybe it’d calm Shondra down if I let her go with me,” I thought out loud. “She can probably figure out how the machine works better’n me.”
“Good plan. C’mon, let’s get the boat back and talk ‘bout it more tomorrow. We gotta think ‘bout this with fresh brains, and mine is dead.”
Chilly started up the engine and put the boat in gear. We went the last mile in silence. We both let our minds drift, soakin’ in the sights and sounds of a late night in
the bayou ‘fore it wakes up to a bright Sunday mornin’.
We docked the boat at Chilly’s and started organizin’ all our gear. I was puttin’ the camera in my pack when somethin’ inside took a bite outta my thumb. I yanked my hand back. It hurt like I’d been stabbed. My thumb had been cut by the razor-sharp edge of my torn high school ID card. The whole lanyard was missin’, as was the second half of my name and birth date.
I sat and stared at jagged-edged plastic while a cold blanket of fear wrapped itself ‘round my heart. Please, oh please, dear Jesus, don’t let ‘em find my calling card.
26
Sunday: The Day After the Night Before
I was shiverin’ in my skin while walkin’ home from Chilly’s. Maybe I was shiverin’ from all the adrenaline of our warehouse adventure, ‘cuz I couldn’t ‘member the weather bein’ so cold this early in the year. I just knew I couldn’t wait for a hot shower.
I pushed the bamboo deep under my front porch along with my pack and filthy, stinky clothes. I unlocked the squeaky front door and pushed it open just ‘nough to squeeze myself inside. A hot shower and warm bedcovers never felt so good. I was gone the minute my head hit the pillow. Good thing ‘cuz church was early, and somehow, I had to stay awake.
I was the first one up and dressed in my church clothes. I sat at the breakfast table with my head on my arms, waitin’ for Mamere to make some biscuits or grits like we do ever’ Sunday. I was gonna give her five more minutes, and then I’d fill a big mixin’ bowl with Froot Loops ‘fore I perished from starvation.
I shoulda known Mamere would never fail my hungry belly. She came shufflin’ outta her room and tied on her apron over her Sunday dress.
“’Mornin’ Mamere, did you sleep well?” I asked politely.
Without even a warnin’, she started in on me.
“Don’t you sugar talk me, young man! I know good and well y’all was up to no good last night. And I know y’all didn’t stay at Chilly’s. I heard the shower come on round midnight.”
“Y’all ain’t gonna tell Mama on me are ya?” I pleaded. “Here I am safe and sound and ready for church.”
“Well, boy, you better be on your best behavior, ‘cuz if y’all take one step outta line today, I’m gonna be your worst nightmare.”
I knew she meant what she said. But maybe she’d relax if I behaved like an angel today.
“Yes, ma’am, colonel ma’am!” I sat up straight and saluted. Oh, crap! That was the wrong thing to say! I couldn’t seem to control my mouth lately. I was sure she was ‘bout to accuse me of sassin’, but Mama walked into the kitchen in a cloud of White Shoulders perfume.
“Good mornin’, Mama. You look very lovely today. That new man in the congregation . . . what’s his name? Oh yeah, Mr. Harvey won’t be able to take his eyes off y’all.”
“Oh, hush, Thomas Edison, I ain’t interested in men at this stage of my life. I ain’t got no time to train ‘nother man. Takes all my energy and Mamere’s to keep one little man in line.”
Her voice had an edge, but her eyes were twinklin’, and I knew she was teasin’ me.
“Tee, did you and Chilly stay up all night? Y’all can hardly keep your eyes open. You best not be doin’ any sleepin’ in church, or I’ll have your be-hind,” Mama warned.
“No, ma’am, not me. I’m wide awake. I been up since dawn, starvin’ to death, waitin’ for breakfast.”
Mamere sat a basket of reheated biscuits on the table ‘side the honey and butter. Mama poured glasses of cold milk, and we said grace.
Breakfast was a quiet affair. I was busy eatin’, and Mamere was busy watchin’ me for signs of trouble. Mama was quiet too. Maybe she was thinkin’ ‘bout Mr. Harvey from church? Nobody had much to say. ‘Sides, we were runnin’ late, and the only thing worse’n bein’ late to Sunday church was to fall asleep in Sunday church.
I knew I had to be prepared for all the “stand-ups” and “sit-downs” and kneelin’ so I didn’t get caught snoozin’ and snorin’ in ‘tween. Snorin’ was a sin Mama thought required a trip to confession. Oh, geez, confession. Had Chilly and I done somethin’ wrong ‘nough I’d have to go to confession? I didn’t think we had. It was a real possibility, ‘fore this thing was over, I’d spend time confessin’ and “Hail Mary-in’ ” ‘til the cows came home. In this case, maybe I deserved a pass from Jesus ‘cuz I was tryin’ to save Pinkie. I’d have to think on that a while longer.
I made only one little slip at church, and for that, I got Mamere’s sharp elbow poked right into my side. I sure envied Chilly, home sleepin’ in his cozy bed.
Shondra would probably have an easier time stayin’ awake over at Abundant Life Baptist. They started an hour later’n us on account they had a potluck afterward. I was tryin’ to think what I was gonna say to her tomorrow on the way to school. Not that it mattered. She was gonna give me the cold shoulder and put her chin up in the air and walk right past me like I didn’t exist.
I could only hope the pastor over at Abundant Life spoke on forgiveness. He always talked ‘bout forgiveness and love and kindness. I was grateful for a Sunday to let things calm down and give Shondra time to blow off some steam.
I spent the rest of my Sunday writin’ on my laptop, sittin’ out on the porch ‘til Mama called me in for supper.
“Tee, take this plate over to Miz Johnson. I invited her for supper, but her ankle is actin’ up. She didn’t feel like walkin’ ‘cross the street. Don’t spend all day over there gossipin’ like you two do. You can go over after supper tonight if you want.”
Mama said this with a smile, probably lovin’ the fact me and Miz J’d become good friends. I thought it was a great idea to go over later. I might even consider tellin’ Miz J ‘bout what was goin’ on with the warehouse. She always gave sensible, Yankee advice.
I hustled ‘cross the street with my mouth waterin’. The smell of fried chicken, more biscuits, and apple pie comin’ from the tray I carried was killin’ me. I knocked on Miz J’s door with my foot ‘cuz my hands were full of the best food in the world.
“Well, hello there, Tee! Come on in! Can you sit and talk for a while?”
“No, ma’am. Supper’s waitin’ at my house, and Mama said to hurry back. But if y’all ain’t busy let’s spend some time visitin’ after school this week.”
“Why, that would be lovely! I don’t think we’ve spent more’n five minutes in the same room since you started back to school. We have some things to catch up on. Come over any time. I am not going anywhere for a few days.”
“Sorry to hear ‘bout y’all’s sore foot. I hope it gets feelin’ better soon.”
I put my hand on the door latch and turned to leave. “See ya later, alligator,” I called over my shoulder, goin’ out the door.
“I hope it’s soon, you big baboon!” She called back and ‘bout shocked the socks offa me. I laughed out loud, and she did too.
27
Monday, Monday
I left the house for school ‘bout ten minutes earlier’n usual Monday mornin’. Mamere almost swallowed her teeth. She knew Mondays were my Achilles’ heel. It normally took everythin’ I had to get outta bed, put on whatever clothes were layin’ close by, stuff a cold piece of cornbread or biscuit in my mouth, and stumble out the door at the last possible minute.
Not today. I was up early ‘nough to shower. I used some soap that smelled real good and dressed up in my best high school clothes.
“Wish me luck, Mamere,” I called as I grabbed a biscuit and juice box and ran out the front door.
“Luck with what? Boy, you better be . . .” her voice trailed off like smoke as I jumped offa the porch and headed up the road. I truly did need all the luck a fella could get to face today’s challenges.
The first thing I had to do was talk to Shondra and try to get her to stop bein’ mad at me. I was hopin’ to get to the corner of her street and head her off, so she couldn’t ditch me walkin’ to school. Second, I had to somehow explain to Miz Marguerite how I lost half of my student ID and find out how to get ‘nother one.
I was shufflin’ ‘long, ‘roundin’ the corner at the top of Spruce Street and over to Locust when . . . dang, here comes Shondra. I got the chills watchin’ her walk up the road. She was headin’ straight for me, like a bull comin’ after a matador. I guessed she wasn’t one of those women who liked to avoid a problem and hope it goes away. She faced the enemy head on, and right now, I was enemy number one.
I could almost see smoke comin’ outta her nostrils like that bull. I raised my hand in a sorry attempt to make a peace sign like the folks who lived back in the 1960s.
“Hey, Shondra, can we talk on the way to school?”
“Well, mister, I’m gonna talk and y’all gonna listen. Do you have any idea the state you had me in on Saturday night? I was ‘bout to call the National Guard and the state police and Sheriff Lloyd to come do a search and rescue for both y’all’s sorry butts. Then I was gonna call your mama! You had me so scared, I swear my poor heart was ‘bout to explode and make a mess all over my clean, white bathroom walls.
“Y’all promised to check in with me so I would know you were alright! Do you know it was at least thirty-eight minutes ‘fore you called and said things were okay? That’s a big old fail on your part, Tee Hopper. You never leave a team member hangin’ in the wind! That was not part of the plan!
“Now, you have five minutes to explain yourself, or I don’t ever wanna see your face again.”
She looked at her watch and set the timer.
“Go!”
“Ummm, well, ya see, we was runnin’ through the bayou without a light ‘cuz these fellas were chasin’ and shootin’ at us. With real guns. It was pretty impossible to stop and make a walkie call at that particular moment.”
She looked at me, and her stare ‘bout froze me solid right where I stood.
“Y’all bein’ sarcastic with me? Boy, if that’s what’s happenin’ here, you better think again.”
“NO no, Shondra! I’m just tryin’ to impress upon you the intensity of the situation. We got in the boat, and thank goodness the motor started right up and Chilly knows that bayou like the back of his hand. If it weren’t for his skills and a whole lotta luck, we’d be at the bottom of the pond, fillin’ up some gator’s belly right ‘bout now.”
Shondra stared at me for a minute like she wasn’t even breathin’.
“No freakin’ way! That really happened?” she asked with her eyes round as dinner plates.
“Yes, ‘freakin’ way’!” I said, waving my hands, then holdin’ ‘em onto the sides a my head for emphasis.
“Wow! I had no idea that all was goin’ on. Maybe it’s best if you tell me the whole story?”
Shondra looked like all the mad had gone outta her, like the air leakin’ from a balloon with a hole in it. I told her the rest of the story, finishin’ up just as we reached the step goin’ into the school and the first bell rang.
I wasn’t gonna have time to go to the office before school and talk to Miz Marguerite ‘bout a new ID. But gettin’ back on Shondra’s good side was my biggest goal of the day. Mission accomplished.
Gettin’ her to go with me to Landry’s after school and print off the photos we took at the warehouse was next on my “To Do” list. We couldn’t afford to waste any time while solvin’ this mystery.
“Hey, Shondra, meet me for lunch. There’s somethin’ else I need help with. I promise it don’t involve gators or shootin’ guns.”
I opened the heavy school door while I was talkin’ and ran smack into some man I’d never seen ‘fore comin’ outta the school. Whew! He smelled like he’d taken a dunk in a tub of some strong-smellin’ man perfume. Most likely he was the daddy of some new kid gettin’ registered for school this morning.
“Oh, ‘scuse me, sir,” I said politely while I tried to move outta his way by goin’ ‘round. He didn’t budge an inch but stood there and stared at us for a minute. Then he smiled and walked off. Creeeepy. We booked it down the hall and stepped into class just as the tardy bell rang.
“You’re late, Mr. Hopper,” growled Miz Jardine, ignorin’ Shondra’s tardiness, even though she was standin’ right next to me.
“Yes, ma’am,” I said and quickly took my seat. I could hear Shondra gigglin’.
