Chapter 12 #2
“Hold on!” I cried out, letting go of my seat, my arms flying out like safety bars, locking into Alice’s and Doris’s chests. Sylvie was too far out for me to reach her.
We slid across the water with a sickening hiss, the boat banking hard, and we plowed through a wall of reeds and clipped a low-hanging branch that sent a shower of Spanish moss over us like someone throwing rice at a wedding.
THUD.
We crashed onto a muddy bank that sent rooster tails of mud through the air and us all flying forward. My arms pushed Alice and Doris back into their seats, but I went careening forward as mud splattered my face, crashing onto the floor of the airboat with a grunt.
The world went suddenly still, the only sound me gasping for breath and the panicked flight of a flock of birds exploding from the ground nearby.
“Is everyone alright?” Bayou Bill shouted, jumping down from his seat and rushing to us.
I coughed, air filling my lungs as I rolled to my knees, hands pressed to my thighs while I regained my senses. I was about to start cataloging my body for injuries, but I saw the widows sitting in their seats, stunned and sprayed with mud.
I ignored my own pains, ripping off my earmuffs, and was on them in an instant. “Report in! Any breaks, bruises, concussions!”
Alice pulled off her earmuffs and rubbed her head. “I think I’m okay.”
I rushed over, sticking a finger in front of her face. “Why are you rubbing your head? Did you hit it? Follow my finger.”
She did as she was told but shook her head. “No, I didn’t hit my head. I was fixing my hair.”
I grimaced. “Alice! I thought you had a concussion! Cripes!”
My racing heart started to slow down, but as I looked at her, it sped back up again when I couldn’t stop those dang intrusive thoughts from returning.
A concussion was the least of the threats to my friend right now.
I scowled as I looked at her, pushing down that rage again. Then I spun to the other widows. “Everyone else okay?”
Sylvie took off her earmuffs. “I’m okay.”
“WE CRASHED!” Doris, yelling at the top of her lungs because she was still wearing her earmuffs, remained stuck in her seat, knuckles white as she gripped the cushion. “I CAN’T BELIEVE WE CRASHED! WE’RE STUCK IN THE BAYOU! AND I CAN’T FIND MY ROSARY TO PRAY!”
“Take off your earmuffs!” I pointed at my ears.
“I CAN’T UNDERSTAND YOU!” she shouted back.
“YOUR EARMUFFS!” Alice pointed at her head. “TAKE THEM OFF!”
“I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE SAYING!”
Bayou Bill chuckled, walked up behind her, and slipped them off her head. She jumped at the sudden contact, but then he came into view and smiled.
“They’re telling you to take off your ear protection. Now can ya hear us?”
She blinked fast. “Oh. Yes, I can hear everyone now.”
“And are you okay?” he asked.
“Yes. I think so.” Then her eyes grew as she looked around at the reed bed we’d embedded ourselves in, the mud along the bank, and the cypress trees looming overhead.
“But we’re stuck, aren’t we? Are we stuck in the bayou?
Can the gators get us? Oh no. I need to pray. Where is my rosary? I lost it!”
I planted my hands on my hips. “Oh, it’s not lost. We know exactly where it is, Doris.”
“You do? Where?” She looked around.
“Seriously, Doris? You really don’t know where it went?” Sylvie sighed.
Alice pointed at the fan. “I’ll give you one guess why we crashed, Doris.”
Like a little lightbulb flickering over her head, she gasped, hands flying to her mouth. “Oh no! Did my… Did I… Is it…” She sucked air through her teeth. “Oops.”
I turned to Bill and the widows, pointing a finger at Doris. “I want this on the record because I’m not taking the blame for this. I provided a perfectly good wish and a perfectly good airboat and a perfectly good captain. My wish went sideways—literally—because of her!”
“It was an accident!” Doris cried, her lower lip trembling. “I was praying for our safety! I was praying for four!”
“Well, stop! You took out an entire airboat with a Hail Mary, Doris!” Alice snapped, though her voice softened when Doris recoiled. “Prayer got us into this mess. Maybe let’s lay off the prayer train for a while.”
“I’m sorry!” Doris wailed. “I was scared! I always pray when I’m scared. What if we’re stuck here? What if the alligators get us?”
“Ah, doncha worry. Ain’t no gators gonna get you.
” Bayou Bill sighed, looking at his jammed rudder.
“But I do need to figure out how to get us out of here. If I need to call in for a rescue, I won’t ever hear the end of it.
” He rubbed a hand across the base of his neck as he stared back at the mangled rudder.
“Well, ain’t this a peach. Really got all jumbled up in there, didn’t it? Let me see if I can unjam this mess.”
He stood, looked at the fan, then at the bank, then at the water around us, and then finally at us. “I’ve gotta go in to get it free,” he said.
“You can’t!” Doris grabbed his arm. “There are gators!”
“I’ll be fine, ma’am,” Bill said, already kicking off his boots. “I’ve been in this water since I was knee-high to a grasshopper.”
“Bill, there really are a lot of gators.” I pointed to two large ones lounging nearby.
“These boys on this bank are sun lazy.” He nodded at the gators about thirty feet away who hadn’t moved since we’d crashed. “They ate this morning. They’re not interested.” He paused. “Probably.”
“Probably?” Sylvie repeated faintly.
He was already over the side, water coming up to his thighs, boots finding purchase in the mud.
“Stay close. If the gators get him, we’re on our own.” I clutched my fists tight. “But don’t worry, ladies, I’ll beat those hungry bastards back.”
Doris let out a little cry, and Sylvie and Alice squished in tighter beside me.
We watched him work. He was methodical—no sudden movements, no noise, one eye on the gators and one on the mechanism as he carefully unwound the chain from the linkage, easing the rosary free from where it had jammed.
“He’s so brave,” Doris whispered.
“He really is,” Sylvie agreed.
“Still might be a vampire,” I said. “Maybe that’s why he’s not scared. Knows he can take ’em.”
“Marge.” Alice briefly closed her eyes.
Bill straightened, held up the rosary, and looked at it. “Got ’er!”
I frowned, disappointed but not surprised. “Well, that settles it. He’s in the sun and holding a rosary. Not a vampire. Just a very brave airboat captain.”
Bayou Bill tinkered with the rudder for another minute until it moved with a satisfying clack-clack. Then he waded back to the boat and gave the rosary to Doris.
She took it with both hands and pressed it to her heart. “Oh, thank the Lord. Thank you, Bayou Bill. Thank you so much.”
“Happy to help, ma’am. Chain’ll need fixin’, or maybe you can just knot it back together, but the cross came through fine.”
He pushed the boat off the bank and turned it around before climbing back aboard, the muddy water not wanting to let go of his legs as he hoisted himself over the side.
He stood, hands on his hips as he looked at us. “Well, we should be ready to roll now. Do you want me to take you back to the dock, or would you like to finish the tour?”
“The dock,” Doris, Alice, and Sylvie echoed.
I looked at the widows. They were covered in mud and draped in moss. They looked like they’d been through a war. Then I looked at the open water ahead.
I grinned, walking a few steps to find my Viking helmet lying on the floor. I popped it back onto my head. “Bill, the captain doesn’t quit just because of a little setback. Let’s keep going.”
“Ugh, Marge!” Alice stomped. “I’m disgusting! I need a shower!”
I looked at her, my chin lifting. “We don’t back down just because of a little setback, Alice. We pick ourselves up and go on. You hear me? We always go on.”
I knew somewhere deep down I wasn’t talking about the airboat ride but about the bigger battle waiting for us when we got back home. A battle that she couldn’t quit, not ever, not on her hardest days. I wouldn’t let her. And today, we weren’t quitting because we had a little mud on our faces.
“We’re no quitters. Not now. Not ever. Fire it up, Bayou Bill.”
He tipped his head, a little appreciation glinting in those blue eyes. “Yes, ma’am.”
He jumped back up in his seat, and the four of us climbed back into ours.
“Doris?” I said.
Doris looked up. “Yes?”
“Put that rosary in your pocket or I will strangle you with it and send you to meet God first.”
She shrank a little in her seat, then shoved the rosary in her pocket.
“Let’s roll!” I called to Bill, slapping my earmuffs back on, then sliding my helmet over them.
I wasn’t ready for this journey to end. When it did, cancer was waiting for us back home. So I would try like hell to outrun that reality for as long as I could.
I wasn’t a runner. Never ran away from my problems and always faced them head-on like a bull in Pamplona.
But that reality crashed back into me as I glanced over at her.
I couldn’t fix this.
I’d known from the moment she’d said the word cancer that I was powerless.
Fixing things was what I did, and this was a thing I couldn’t fix.
The airboat took off across the water, the wind whipping in our hair as we pushed on, and I did the only thing I could do—let the noise and the speed and the excitement crowd out everything else in my mind.