Cajun Connundrum (Wolvenrogue and Loneiysong)

wolvenrogue

wolvenrogue

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Aug 21, 2011
Roy Guidrey had lived on Guidrey Bayou his entire life. That is until two hurricanes in 2 weeks hit and the ensuing flood cut loose his house boat from its mooring in the middle of the night. The boat had hit a tree in the dark and split open. In the end, Roy had lost everything, His family, his home, his life. All that remained was his pirogue, a fishing rod and a rifle that had some how remained afloat. Roy simply gave up on what he had known. Staying on the bayou would have broken his heart and spirit. So he sold out, built a new houseboat and ran it back into the deepest part of the swamp. There he lived off the land, just him and the wildlife. It was a simple life, and one that suited him well except in the middle of the night.

Roy was fit for his age, and other than his prematurely grey hair and beard, born of his time of grief, he didn't look like the 44 that he was. He was tall and lanky, and his skin well tanned. He loved to smile, and it showed on his face, though he hadn't done it often. Naked from the waist up as he usually was, only a pair of short bib overalls covered him. He wore no shoes. He kept a straw hat but seldom wore it except when the sun bore down on him.

This particular day he was out in the pirot fishing when he he heard a distinctly female voice singing a sweet old Cajun song. He paddled toward it quietly and then through the undergrowth he saw a sight he hadn't seen in years. A young Cajun girl sat naked from the waist up on a small platform washing herself with a tattered rag. He stopped where he was and quietly watched, afraid to believe his eyes. What was a young woman doing out here alone? How was she surviving?
 
It had been a few days before. Ritter had opened her eyes. She had no recollection of how she got there, what had happened, or who she was. Whatever happened though, was big. Her whole body hurt, one of her eyes was swollen shut, and her body ached. With a groan, she moved quietly nuzzling into the wet swampy mud knowing deep in her core that it had healing properties. Shutting her eyes, she fell back asleep feeling the life pulse and continue around her.

As the days continued, Ritter remembered her name as Ritter Bloom. She was raised in the swamp. Studied hard in school and earned a scholarship, but her first love had always been the swamp. Some had accused her mom of being a swamp witch. Being able to heal and cure whatever ailed you. The swamp gave you what you needed if you followed its laws and respected it. But somehow, Ritter, was not whole. She could not sleep a full night and she didn't trust anyone. She was little more than a wild creature roaming the swamp.

She had found an abandoned hut on the swamp and had pillaged it finding an old rifle that she had been able to repair and a good carving knife she kept strapped to her thigh. She sat on a boat dock washing her olive skin and black hair singing a song her father taught her when a man came up the water and she snarled taking the rifle and leveled it in a clean kill shot. She knew he was there by teh feeling she was being watched.

"Mister, I kill what I eat, and I don't recon I would fancy eatin' no human so if you know what was best for yerself, you would be best paddling on." She said catching him in record time.
 
Roy didn't flinch. He didn't stop paddling. His gun laid across the gunwales of the pirogue, but he didn't reach for it. "Ye know, I been paddlin past that old cabin for the better part of two years, and I don't remember you being there till today, so no sense makin' out like I moved in on you. I ain't got a clue just how you got this far out in the swamp by yerself, but I know this, if ye have any sense and you don't have a price on your head you'll be damn glad I'm here. Hell, I'm glad your here and you have that rifle pointed at my head. You don't have a boat, and I know from experience that snakes love that cabin. " He paddled up to the water's edge and just sat there admiring her mostly naked body from a distance of maybe 20 feet. "You are certainly a site for my eyes" he said. "I can paddle off and leave you to that shabby little cabin, or you can join me for dinner and a bath in my houseboat. That is entirely up to you."

He pushed his paddle into the sand and prepared to leave. Though he wouldn't forget where she was, and he knew without a boat she wouldn't be leaving any time soon.
 
"I ain't afraid of no snakes. As long as you don't give them no reason to, they will not bother you none." She reached out keeping her eyes up to him and pulled the blanket around her body and watched him. She glared and then stood up and moved forward. "What is your name." She lowered the rifle but did not uncock it, or release it. She moved to him and canted her head a bit. He could tell she had healing bruises and nasty cuts along her body. She watched him looking over him and frowned.
 
"Roy.... Roy Guidrey.. I'm sure you can manage to avoid getting bit.. but I'm still betting a warm bath and a hot meal are going to make you feel better than slimy snakes and eatin raw fish. Your not stupid or you'd be dead by now, this swamp ain't that forgiving. You won't need that gun. I ain't gonna hurt you, and I ain't fool enough t' try and chase you.
If your commin' get in the pirogue otherwise you might see me in a week or so.

He started to push on the paddle, but paused a moment. "last chance girly" He smiled at her " would be a shame for you to miss some good gumbo. "
 
She smiled and then put her gun to the side uncocking it. She set it in the boat. She looked at him and reached adn got a spare oar. She helped him paddle, paddling mostly and letting him steer. She had good muscle and moved with the motion of the swamp and not against it. Her eyes moved along the water constantly scanning it and watching it carefully like a girl who had been raised here.
 
Roy smiled as she got in the pirogue in front of him and picked up the paddle. This girl had to be from the swamp. As she started to paddle the blanket fell from her shoulders. and though he was looking only at her back the sight of her taught young body was something he hadn't seen up close in 20 years. He guided the pirogue up one channel and down the next, and after an hour they came in sight of his house boat.

"Now isn't that a bit more like home?" he asked her as he tied up the pirot and held out his hand to help her up on to the deck of the house boat. "Let me show you to the bath that I promised you" he said and opened the door to the cabin and led her down the hall. "Its been a sunny day, we should have plenty of hot water" he said then he got her a towel, a bar of soap and a bottle of shampoo. "I'm going to start the gumbo, so take your time." He went to the bedroom and came out with a wife-beater tank tee-shirt. "You'll need something to wear. This might actually do for a dress."
 
She looked around and then when they stopped at the houseboat, she got out without taking his hand but holding her gun and blanket close. She was mistrustful of men and didn't want to touch one for a while. She looked at him and took the soap, towel, and shampoo. She nodded and took it and then moved out to where the bath was and ran the water and sank down into the hot water after taking off all of her clothes and just sank further and further under the warm water and shut her eyes.
 
Roy left her in the tub up on the bow and went back to the galley and took some venison from the refridgerator. Refridgeration was one luxury he allowed himself. He would barter with other fisherman for a full propne bottle once a month. It also allowed him propane for the stove if it was raining. He diced it fine and put it in his back iron pot to sear. the smell filling the air around the houseboat. He added cayenne pepper and salt, and a little beer. to deglae the pan before he removed the meat and prepared the gravy. He put rice on the stove, and started cutting peppers, onions and celery to put in the pot. It was smelling good. He figured his guest would be out when she was hungry, and put the meat back in the pot to simmer. The meal would wait on her now.

He sat bak in an old lawn chair and sipped on what was left of the beer. Life was good, and looking better. He got up and sliced some bread he had made yesterday before sitting back down to wait.
 
She smiled and then washed herself feeling refreshed and clean for the first time in a long time. Pulling on the clothes he gave her after drying off, she brushed her hair straight and braided it in true bayou fashion. Walking down to where he was, she smiled and then sat down and then looked at him and sat down and watched him.

"Sorry for being rude before...its just..." She swallowed. She wasn't ready to admit that now...just yet. She swallowed and remained quiet.
 
As she appeared at the door, he had to blink, the young woman was beautiful, beyond sensual her hair black ar a raven, and her skin a perfect shade of olive. Her eyes mysterious. the shirt did little to hide her lithe body. She was a vision. He took a breath before he answered her "That shirt isnt much , but it looks great on you. I have beer, and iced tea, which would you prefer? " He paused to stir the pot before he went to the fridge. It was a beautiful afternoon, the house boat was tied alone the bank in the shade of a magnolia tree, and what breeze there was blew nicely across the deckwhwere they sat. this was a time for rest nd laziness, and good food, and a friend. A friend ....... such a pleasant thought. Roy hoped he had one.
 
She smiled and looked at him. She shrugged and sat down. "The swamp doesn't care." She bit her lip and sighed. "If it wouldn't be too much trouble I would prefer an iced tea. I don't like alcohol too much." She said and watched him. She sighed and felt the gentle breeze and leaned forward adn sighed and stretched out her arms and smiled wider.
 
Roy poured two glasses of iced tea, handed one two the girl, and sat back down. " So, what would your name be and how does a young girl end up alone so far out in the swamp. Particulary one who knows it. One who knows how dangerous it can be. You're no city girl, you were born here, and if this was a planned move, you wouldn'thave chosen that hut. " He sat back in the old lawn chair, and looked her over again carefully . "Somebody wanted you dead, only they didn't think you woulld survive. You know what? On second thought, I'll settle for knowing your name. "
 
She took it and raised an eyebrow at the onslaught of his questions. Taking a deep breath, she ran a hand over her face and looked out at the swamp and then frowned. She looked up as he redacted all of his questions, she smiled at him and nodded. "My name is Ritter." She said simply. Then decided he deserved a last name and wondered if maybe he knew her parents as swamp folk were a tight knit community. "Ritter Bloom."
 
"Well Redder Bloom, You re quite a young lady, so much more than most your age. Its a very few men who would level a rifle at me, and fewer women who would come to my boat to bathe. You have done both. I like a girl with courage. Their are no Blooms in thiss part of the swamp. We are both strangers here. Maybe that is good for both of us." He grabbed two bowls and put a scoop of rice in each and then ladelled the gumbo over top and set a piece of buttered bread on top . He handed her one and settled back in his chair to eat.
 
"Thanks for the compliments, food, and the clothing." She smiled and then shrugged. "I haven't scouted were in the swamp I am perse my family lived closer to the Creole side." She sighed and began to eat. She was keeping her manners about herself. She was quiet.
 
Roy finished up his bowl of gumbo and got another smaller bowl. "More?" he asked Redder quietly, as he slid the big spoon her direction indicating she should help herself. He sat back again and let his eyes roam over her, not being at all shy about the fact that he was enjoying the sight. The sun ws getting low and after eating, he set down his bowl and went back to the bunk house and strung up a second hammock anticipating that is guest would probably want to stay the night in the screened in sleeping quarters free of the vicious mosquitoes that were everywhere around them in seconds after the sun set for the night. Walking back to the kitchen he lit the oil lamps throughout the cabin and soon the boat was lit with a cheery yellow glow.

"I liked that song you were singing earlier. " He pulled a guitar from the closet and sat down and started to strum away at the melody she had been singing. "Sing it again, won't ya?"
 
She stood up and began to ladel herself more of the gumbo same way and ate. She looked at him and grinned. She ate a few more bowls before she watched him set up a hammock. She grinned and looked at him and moved forward and then smiled. "I will earn my keep." She said. "Just until I get back on my feet." She said and then blushed as he mentioned her singing.

"Yes, I will." SHe then blushed and began to sing the song in old creole that her daddy sang to her. She sang it. Ritter shut her eyes.
 
The sound of her sweet creole french warmed Roy's heart as he played softly and listened. The song had that sweet sing song that came from the swamp, from the old times. He played another old song, a duet and started singing in his gravely voice, not pretty but full of character, hoping she would join in. His guitar hadn't been played since he had arrived here in this place, since he'd lost Jolie and the children. Tears rolled down his weathered face.
 
Roy composed himself and then started strumming the chords of the song again but he couldnt force out the song from his throat. When he got around to the end he finished the song and fell silent the brathed out "Jolie" . He put down the guitar and sat back in his chair and just sat there listening willing himself to remember the things he had pushed out of his mind.
 
"Sorry I got all sloppy on you. That is mighty pretty song. It has some memories that go wid it, mighty fond memries. " He picked up the guitar and put it away, he carried the dishes to the sinkand washed them up laying them out to dry. "well little lady, I'm sorry there isnt more privacy but the hammock on the left is yours. He turned down the oil lamps in the bunk house and walking back into the shadows and stripped down nd got in the mesh hammock. The air was muggy, but if you laid still comfort was possible when you were naked.
 
"Don't worry, men are allowed to feel feelings, it is the way of nature." She smiled and looked at him. She got up and helped him wash the dishes and dry them. She shrugged. She moved the hammock that he said was hers and sat on it for a while and watched him. She frowned not quite trusting him. But she didn't quite trust anyone.

Laying back, she looked at the ceiling, she put her hands on her stomach and was swayed. She felt sweat from the humidity collect on her body as she heard the sounds of the swamp.
 
Roy layed back on the hammock and let what breeze there was cool his naked body. He made no move to invade the girl's privacy such as it was by even looking as she slept, and she hoped that she would. He knew that she had to be tired. No one would sleep wellin that old hut she had squatted in. He drifted off to sleep and woke before first light. Seeing the girl still in the hammock, he got up as quietly as possibe nd slipped on his clothes before starting to prepare a breakfast of fried fish and quail eggs. The eggs were small and took 6 nd filet offish tomake breakfast. He had coffee brewing and was pretty sure that the smellof it would arouse his sleeping guest.
 
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