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Frank pulled the truck up at his favourite trapping spot close to where the two Bayous met, lots of tangled roots, long grass and rocks where the Crawfish could hide from their natural predators. He knew the Crawfish ran thick around here and pulling up the traps he had set early this morning he filled his sacks with the red squirming edible delicacy, refilling the traps with bait and lowering them back down into the water to catch more.
After a while he noticed a boat floating haphazardly down towards him and as it got closer he noticed that there was a man lying still in the low slung boat, looking like he was dead. Quickly lowering his body onto the ground, Frank glanced around, half expecting more men to come out of the trees, but all was quiet and he carefully raised himself up and stared at the body in the boat. Half dressed the torso of the man bare and exposed to the hot sun, he noticed that the trousers were the distinctive black and white stripe of the Chain Gang prisoners. Standing up he watched as the boat continued to slowly float closer and then decided to wade into the shallow water and grab the boat.
When he managed to get hold of it he stood in shock as he recognised the man in the boat.
Jake Bailey.
He knew him by sight from town.
Had known about the trial for fraud nearly two years ago.
Had heard the rumours and gossip amongst the farm hands from around that they thought the man had been framed, and that the wrong man had been sent down.
Pulling the unconscious Jake out of the boat and dragging him to the shore he laid him out, checking to see if he was still alive. Seeing that he was, he carried him to the back of the truck, laid him out on the flat back, covered him up with some sacking and then hurriedly loaded the bags of Crawfish into the truck, making sure that the man was covered and couldn't be seen by anyone if they looked, and then made his way back to the farm.
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Driving along in the police car on the old dusty dirt road, John saw the truck driven by Frank coming along in the opposite direction, The two vehicles passed each other, John watching the black man as he drove the truck past him, Frank staring ahead, praying the Sheriff wouldn't stop him in case he discovered the man hidden in the back, aiming for home and safety.
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- COMMENTS
Anonymousabout 13 years agoI think if I were dying of thirst I would risk drinking from the bayou. It's not like he had many choices.
Anonymousabout 13 years agoI'm from Louisiana and I seem to recall that the crawfish around Shreveport were a the same color as boiled crawfish, just not as bright.
As for drinking from a bayou, I normally wouldn't but if it were an emergency, I would try it.
Anyway the story has made me suspend my disbelief and that's all one can ask for in a fiction story. Good read, I look forward to the next chapter.
BigJohn601about 13 years agoNo body in the swamp would ever, I mean ever drink from the bayou. Louisiana has innumerable artesian wells that spring up from the ground and is relatively pure. Crawfish are naturaly greenish brown and only turn red after they are boiled. Quicksand, unlike the movies, is easy to escape if one keeps their senses and simply do a dogpaddle till you come to the edge.
