Secrets of the swamp

I was raised in the swamps of Louisiana, Cajun country some might say. I learned from an early age that the swamp has secrets, secrets that will never be revealed to the outside world, secrets that like to eat.

Unless you were born in this hellish country, you ain't got a chance in hell of getting back out once you cross that invisible line to the outside world. The channels twist and turn back on themselves and run for hundreds of miles in either direction.

If the gators and snakes don't get you, the insects will. The humidity is so thick you could eat it with a fork, and you can't drink the brackish water. No need to holler cause the swamp will just swallow up the sound of your voice.

If you weren't born here, you won't survive without a guide, and hiring someone is a shot in the dark. We don't like outsiders intruding on the secrets of the swamp. But there are the rare few.

I'm sure there's all kinda tales about the swamp. The mighty gator hunters come looking for a thrill, some wanting to take a chance with the supposed giant pythons, and some looking for something a little... more.

That little more is one of the secrets.

We have our own ways here. There are no law men, we solve our own problems one way...or another. We have our own language made from a mix of French, Spanish and Native American all mashed together. Nowadays there's some English in the mix.

Our children are educated in the swamp ways, as we learned from the elders before us, and they will pass it on down the line keeping our beliefs and traditions alive. But there are a few that have stepped outside the swamps and returned with a learning that they too teach the children.

There are some people that come into the swamps to dispose of their problems, while others come looking for trouble. The ones looking for trouble usually find it.

My name is Maji LaFayette. At sixteen I am one of the best gator hunters in our district, a long side Franz Pierre, a cocky, self absorbed ass that is a pain in my side. We have never been friends and likely to never be.

"Maji! Have a bad day?" Franz yells, laughing as I land my flat bottom boat.

"Everyday is a bad day when I have to look at your ugly mug!" I yell back, annoyed at his observation.

"You just can't admit defeat, little one. You know I am the best," he laughs, pulling my boat further up on the land.

"Just because your old man is the best doesn't make you one," I grumble, climbing out.

"So what do you have today?" he throws the tarp back, shocked at what he sees, but quickly straightens his face.

I have ten, round about seven feet, but the jewel is on the bottom of the pile. A ten footer almost as wide as the boat.

I started throwing them up on the dock to be measured and weighed, and of course he has to help so he can add smart remarks.

"That one ain't good for nothing but meat, hide is too scarred up, that one is too skinny, that one has a leg missing."

I keep my mouth shut and let him make his comments. When he sees the one on the bottom, he stops and looks at me.

"You had help with this one," he snaps, looking at the monster that a sixteen year old girl brought in.

I turn around and point at my hoist and rigging.

"I sure did," I hoisted myself up onto the dock with my rifle slung over my shoulder.

"Okay Jacques, I'm ready," the man starts weighing and measuring, making note of what can be used for what. He uses a hoist to pull the big one from my boat then weighs it.

"Okay Maji, that's fourteen hundred pounds. That big one puts you over the top. Want one for supper?" he laughs and looks at a fuming Franz. Franz storms off in a huff, heading for the Cantina.

"Not tonight, I got some traps sitting down a ways," he gives me my ticket for the cash office and I shove it in my pocket.

I pull my boat up on land, I fold the hoist down and lock it, unload all my gear into a pile and flip it over sideways, putting a brace behind it. Then spray it out real good to get all the blood and muck out. I leave it that way until I go check my traps.

I set some crawdad traps this morning before I left, hopefully I got enough for supper. I wade in about waist deep to reach my traps and start pulling the line in. All four have crawdads, plenty enough for supper. I empty them into an old burlap bag and hang my traps in a tree until I need them again.

Going back to the dock, I rest my boat upright and chain it to the leg of the dock. Jacques lets me keep it here because he knows the old truck played out on us and he has guards that walk the grounds.

I head for the Cantina where my mom works. The smoke and rank fishy smell bellows out when I open the door, even though all the windows are open and fans are blowing.

"Hi ya mom." I sit my bag on the floor.

"Bonjou Mon amour. Vle w bwe?" She smiles resting her big breast on the bar.

"Just a beer thanks, I still have to cook."

She pulls a tap with a heavy foam, sitting it in front of me. I take a huge drink to quench my dry throat, wiping the foam from my lip and nose. I turn in my seat, looking at all the men laughing and telling their same old lies about the big one that got away

"Hello beautiful." I turned to see Tom Atkins with a big smile on his face.

I blush, even though I know he's just teasing me. He's twenty years old and gorgeous, even covered in blood and muck.

"How was your day?" he asks, taking a beer from my mom.

"Fourteen," I reply taking another drink. He smiles wiping the foam from my lip.

"Fourteen? That's great. I only had eleven," he smiles over the rim of his glass.

"Are you coming to the dance tomorrow night?"

"I, uh. No," I sit my drink down.

"Why? You could have fun," he smiles bumping me with his shoulder.

Everyone in the district comes to the dance his family has every month, everyone but me. His parents moved here two years ago, 'For a new life experience' and now they are the highlight of the swamp. They can afford it, they are sickeningly wealthy.

"I just have things to do," I turn my beer in my hands.

"Surely you can take one night to just let go, have fun with friends."

That's the burner, I have no friends. All the girls my age either stay home learning to take care of a family and being a good wife, or dream of getting out of here and being a princess.

"I gotta go. Bye mom!" I turn to leave and he takes my arm.

"Please. I would really like to see you there."

"Maybe next time," I pull my arm loose and leave.

I am shaking and sweating when I hit the humid air head on. It's only just shy of a mile to the house, but I am completely exhausted when I get there.

"Hey pop!" I call out to an empty house. There's no telling where he's at.

I set about putting the big black pot on the fire, adding water. I set another big pot on the ground next to it. While I wait for it to boil, I go pick what I want from the garden to put in the gumbo.

I start cutting the vegetables and put the crawdads in a basket, lowering it in the pot, swishing them around to wash them off, then put them in the cool water to stop them from cooking.

I dump the boiling pot and spray it out, fill it up again, putting it back on the fire to boil again. When it comes to a boil, I have all the vegetables cut so I dump them in and add the seasoning. I clean up the mess and set out the plates and things.

I drop the crawdads in the water and let it cook while I go to fill my tub with water and pull my night clothes. I am sweating so bad, it drips from the tip of my nose and stings my eyes.

When the gumbo is done, I pull it to the side of the fire.

There are four families using the same well, so you're lucky if you have water when needed. Before I get in the tub, I strip down and hose off, washing the mud and blood away. I slowly sink into the cool water, every muscle in my body screams at the shock.

I rest my head on my knees and sigh. I feel myself relaxing and I know I will fall asleep if I don't start moving, I've done it before. I quickly bathe and dress in the dark. We don't have electricity but we do have a generator that we use sparingly, usually only at night so we can run the fans and listen to the radio.

I light a lantern in the living room and another on the picnic table. I eat and clean my dishes. There's no telling when my dad will be home and my mom won't get off for another hour, but she will put everything away when she gets here. I make sure the generator has plenty of gas and fire it up.

I think I'm asleep before my head hits the pillow.