"Mon Dieu." He kissed my cheek and held me. "Don't worry. You're safe now. I won't let anything else happen to you. Let me get you back to Cypress Woods."
He started the motor, and we were off.
I looked back once at the pirogue bobbing in the swamp water. It had taken me to hell and back.
15
Eye of the Storm
When we arrived at the dock, Jack helped me out of the dinghy. My legs wobbled, and I had to lean against him for a moment. The full impact of what had happened to me and what I had gone through hit me the moment I set foot on safe soil. The rain had started again, too, but the two of us barely noticed. Jack scooped me up into his strong arms, lifting me like a baby.
"Jack, you don't have to carry me," I protested.
"I got grease cans that weigh more than you," he said, smiling. It did seem effortless for him to march up the pathway with me in his arms. He carried me all the way to his trailer. I realized that both of us were soaked to the skin—me especially, in the poor excuse for a dress Buster had forced me to wear. Some of the other riggers came running over to see what had happened, but Jack didn't stop to explain. He didn't put me down until we were inside.
"At least you can take a hot shower here. Get that sack off your body. I'll find something for you to wear.
Then we'll call the police and tell them what happened."
"I'd better call home, too, and see how Daddy's doing," I said, wiping the matted hair from my forehead and eyes. A small puddle had formed at my feet. "I'm making a mess."
"Don't worry."
Jack saw the welts on my legs that had resulted from Buster's whipping me with his leather belt.
"Maybe I should get you to a doctor or a traiteur," he suggested. "That doesn't look so good."
"It's all right. The skin wasn't broken. I'll put some ice on the bumps afterward."
"I forgot," he said smiling. "You're on your way to becoming a doctor. Comes in handy having you around."
I felt so dirty after what I had been through that I stayed in the shower until Jack knocked on the door to see if I was all right.
"Pearl!"
"I'm okay," I cried. I just stood there enjoying the warm water in my hair. I heard him open the door.
"I'll leave the clothing here," he shouted. I turned off the water and pulled back the curtain to peer out. He had given me a pair of his dungarees, one of his plaid shirts, and a pair of his slippers and socks.
"You can keep the pants on with this piece of rope," he said when I laughed. "I'm sorry I don't have any skirts."
"It'll do for now. Thanks."
"You okay?"
"I am now," I said.
He beamed. "I made some hot tea, and I've got biscuits and jam waiting."
"Thanks, Jack."
After I dried myself and put on his clothes, I wrapped the towel around my hair. He looked up from the stove when I emerged.
"I feel like a new person, especially in these clothes," I said. I had rolled up the legs on the dungarees to make them shorter, but they were still much too large for me, as was Jack's shirt. "I guess I'm a pretty funny sight, huh?"
"You look great to me. Never knew my clothes would look that good on anyone." He smiled and then his smile turned quickly into a stern expression. "Now sit yourself down," he said, pointing to the chair.
His anger took me by surprise, and I sat down quickly. "What's wrong?"
He folded his arms across his chest and straightened his shoulders.
"How dare you go off with someone like that and just leave me a note? Do you know I came this close," he said, pinching his thumb and forefinger together, "to missing it? And when I read the name Trahaw, I almost had heart failure. I still can't believe you went into the swamp with that low-life scum."
"Jack, he said he knew where my mother was so . . ."
"For a woman who is supposedly so intelligent, you sure do dumb things."
I looked down, my chin quivering.
"I'm sorry I'm bawling you out, Pearl, but when I saw you were gone and I realized you had gone into the swamp with that guy, I felt about as low as I ever felt in my life. I thought for sure I was never going to see you again."
I lifted my tear-filled eyes to him and saw he was very sincere.
"I'm sorry, Jack. It was stupid of me. I should have talked with you first."
"Yeah, well, maybe. He probably would have tried to stop you, though, and that might have even been worse," he offered in a compromising tone.
"I can't imagine it being worse than it was, Jack," I said.
He nodded and then turned when the teakettle whistled. He prepared me a cup of tea and gave me the biscuits and jam.
"Thank you." I didn't think I was hungry, but I devoured the biscuit and then ate a second one. Jack laughed.
"I'll bring you some more," he said. "I don't want you taking bites out of the table."
"I guess I didn't realize how much energy I used poling that pirogue."
"Okay," he said bringing me another biscuit. "Tell me all about it now."
Jack sat across from me and listened to my description of what had happened in the shack and how I had escaped. After I was finished, he nodded his head, his eyes fixed firmly on me, a new look of appreciation in them.
"I take back what I said before. All of that was pretty fast thinking, even for a city girl," he said.
Jack had a smile that beamed so much warmth that I thought I could remain forever in the glow. His eyes and his gentle lips made me feel more than just safe. I was where I belonged, where I was meant to be. I used to question Mommy all the time about the magic of love, wondering if there really was such a thing as two people being drawn to each other by mystical forces not explained in laboratories. I wanted to believe in it, but since it had never happened to me, I was skeptical. Then all of my cynicism melted away under the heat of Jack's warm eyes.
"I'd better call home and see how Daddy is," I said softly.
Jack nodded. "Then I’ll call the police. You'll have to tell them what happened and about where you think Buster went down."
"I don't know that, Jack. Everywhere in the swamp looks the same to me."
"Don't worry about it," he said. "My guess is no one's going to miss the likes of Buster Trahaw anyway."
Aubrey answered when I called home and told me Daddy was asleep. "He's asked after you a number of times, however, mademoiselle."
"Tell him phone again as soon as I can, Aubrey.
Tell him I'm all right, and tell him . . ."
"Yes, mademoiselle?"
"Nothing, Aubrey. call later," I added. Why give
Daddy the bad news now? I thought. I hadn't found Mommy. I had almost gotten myself trapped and maybe even killed, and I could do nothing to help Pierre.
"Don't drop the potato," Jack advised when I cradled the receiver and he saw the look of dismay on my face.
I smiled, remembering how Mommy often used that Cajun expression. "We're not licked yet," Jack added with steely, determined eyes.
I flashed another grateful smile, but in my heart I had given up hope. After all, there was nothing more to do here. I might as well head home.
Jack called the police, and a little while later a patrol car arrived with two officers. They listened to my tale, shaking their heads in disbelief.
"We'll get a couple of patrol boats into the canal and see if there's anything left of him," one of the policemen told me. "We know that your mother is missing. Your father called our station and spoke to the chief, and Mrs. Pitot has called a few times, too.
We've got your mother's description and we're keeping our eyes open."
I thanked him, and then Jack followed the two policemen outside to finish talking to them where I couldn't hear. When I looked out the window, I saw them shaking their heads with even more pity in their eyes. Jack shook their hands and they left, but almost as soon as they had, the other riggers gathered around to hear the story. Reluctantly, Jack described the events. Then they called to me and I stepped into the open doorway to hear their anger over what had occurred.