Postmark Bayou Chene by Gwen Roland

Author:Gwen Roland
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: LSU Press
Published: 2015-06-12T16:00:00+00:00

17

August came to a close with no more mishaps at the dock during the weekly fish transports. Fate chugged in, loaded up, and disappeared in a cloud of fumes and noise. During the few minutes he was weighing fish and paying out money, Loyce could hear his voice, as usual, over everyone else’s. But something was different.

Men were not just laughing at his carrying on as they once did. They were asking questions and hushing for his answers. What were fishermen pulling in at other spots in the river? What was selling best up north? And of course there were umpteen questions about that gasoline boat. How fast, how far, how much time, how much load could it carry, on and on. Seems like they all had a notion of what could be done with such a contraption. Loyce knew what she’d like to do with the noisome, foul-smelling thing if anyone asked, but no one did.

“I bet you don’t know who this is.” The voice broke into her thoughts. It came from the path rather than the dock.

“Cairo Beauty,” said Loyce. “Even a seeing person could pick out the only Mississippi drawl on the Chene, and I don’t need Drifter’s nose to follow the trail of your Blue Waltz perfume. Come on in and let me feel that baby.” Her mood lightened when Cairo Beauty dropped by.

Cairo laughed and climbed the steps to the back of the breezeway. Entering the porch, she stood in front of Loyce, who felt around her stomach. It had expanded since Cairo’s last visit just two weeks ago.

“Well, how you doing there?” Adam spoke up from where he sat peeling potatoes and reading a book propped against the dishpan. “What’s the water doing down on Graveyard?”

“Come up just a tad the last few days,” she replied, settling into another chair on the porch. “That’s how come Alcide was out that way setting some lines. I caught a ride to the back side of the island and walked up. I wish it’d raise faster and make it easier to tote things from the shed to the cabin we’re building on the flatboat. The bigger I get, the harder all that hauling gets to be. That’s what I come for today, some bigger clothes. Done let out all mine far as they’ll go.”

She patted the bodice of her chartreuse frock, which was filled to capacity and a little more. Then she tugged at the buttons gapped open at the waist.

“I still have what Josie wore before Loyce was born,” Adam said. “Let me go see if I can find ’em. That’ll save your money for building the houseboat and putting together Sam’s nets.”

He sat the book on top of the potatoes, placed the pan in the seat of his chair, and left the porch. Soon the women could hear him moving boxes and barrels inside. Presently, he came back with two cotton jumpers designed with tucks over the bosom that spread out into roomy skirts. One was a slate blue, and the other was dark green.

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