night.
“Gol dern it, Ma,” Pa said, “I shore wish we hadn’t had to build this blame shack so high off the ground. Hit nearly breaks my pore tired bones to climb the steps ever day.”
“You jest better thank the good Lord that we did build the shack high off the ground stead of fussin’ about it,” said Ma. “You know dern well what will happen when the rains come and that muddy ole river comes messin’ aroun’ tryin’ to git in the house with us.”
“I reckon you right, Ma, but it shore do tire a pore ole fool like me climbin’ them steps all the time.”
Pa and the boys took the bar of yellow soap off the cabinet top and began washing the river slime from their hands before supper. Each took his turn at the one cloth towel that hung on a nail over the washstand. When they had finished, they sat at the table, and Theresa poured hot coffee into the tin cups before them.
“They ain’t no more sugar for the coffee, Pa,” said Theresa. “You better git some the next time you is in Mill Town.”
“Yah,” said Ma, “and if’n you don’t git some more corn meal, they ain’t gonna be no more pone on the table afore long. If’n you two boys would stay out’n that swamp long enough to clear me a little patch of land, I could grow us some corn to eat and to feed them pore old hogs. Them hogs air gittin’ so thin hit’s a wonder the snakes ain’t done et ’em afore now.”
“Now, they ain’t no use to worry none,” said Pa. “Me and the boys air goin’ into town Satterday and we’ll git some sugar and meal if’n them dern turtles and gar will jest leave us be long enough to haul in a mess of fish.”
“You goin’ to take me to town this time, Pa?” asked Theresa. “You been promisin’ to take me for quite a spell now. Please take me this time, Pa.”
“Now, you know why I ain’t took you to town, Theresa,” he said. “I done tole you a thousand times that if’n them dern town boys was to ever see you, they’d come sniffin’ aroun’ here and jest cause us a heap of trouble.”
“Well, that ain’t no reason why you can’t ever take me,” said Ma. “You know dern well ain’t even no old hound dog gonna come sniffin’ aroun’ after me.”
Ma Corey finished the frying of the bread, dumped it onto a plate and set it, with the fish, on the table. They all gathered at the table, and Skeeter slapped a fork into a big piece of the fried catfish.
“Now, jest a minute, Skeeter,” said Pa. “I think I better turn up some thanks tonight afore we eat this meal.” Pa turned his head towards the roof, and the others bent their heads.
“Good Lord,” he said, “thank ye fer this meal. And please, Lord, keep them dern turtles and gar away from the lines afore Satterday so’es we can have some more pone on the table next week. Thank ye. Amen. Damn critters,” he murmured to himself, as he carved a big piece from the pone before him.
“Pa,” said Jeff, “me and Skeeter was thinkin’ ’bout goin’ into the swamp tonight after we eat and giggin’ us some frogs. I heered one bellowin’ last night what sounded like he was as big as a bear. Shore would be good to have some frog legs to eat in the mornin’.”
“You boys had orter stay out’n that swamp in the nighttime. You know the good Lord didn’t make that place fer us human bein’s to go into. One of these nights you goin’ to go into that place and ain’t gonna come out at all.”
“They ain’t nothin’ in there that could hurt a feller if’n he jest keeps his eyes open and don’t act a fool,” said Jeff. “Anyhows, we ain’t skeered of hit like you air.”
When they finished the meal, Theresa put the dishes on the stand and began heating some water to clean the grease left on them by the fish. Ma put a big dip of snuff in her bottom lip and got the sage-straw broom to sweep the floor. Pa ambled out to the front porch to sit and think about ways to get more traps set, and Jeff and Skeeter got out their frog gigs to sharpen the points on the old whetrock that the family had had for as long as they could remember.
“Jeff,” said Skeeter, “if’n we see a big moccasin in the swamp tonight, I’ll show you how to ketch the varment. Maybe we kin swap him fer some likker sticks when we go to town Satterday.”
“You better quit messin’ with them snakes so much without any help,” said Jeff. “One of them varments is goin’ to knock a hole clear through you one of these days.”
“Shucks,” said Skeeter, “you know I ain’t skeered of them snakes. I was in the swamp one day by myself and I seed a big otter stalkin’ one of them buggers. I sot real still in the skiff and watched what was goin’ to happen. That dern otter snuck up to that snake backwards and waved his tail at him. When the ole snake struck at that bugger’s tail, that otter turned so quick and sunk his teeth behin’ that snake’s head I hardly saw it happen. I asked the ole otter to tell me how he done it, and that sapsucker showed me all about it. I’ll show you how hit’s done fust time I gits a chance.”
“One of these days you goin’ to turn into a gar fer tellin’ them big tales like you do,” said Jeff. “Sometimes you scare me when you start talkin’ like what you do.”
“I ain’t tellin’ no tale, honest, Jeff,” said Skeeter. “You kin see sights sech as I do if’n you jest goes about hit in the right way.”
“If’n I ever see some of the buggers you do while I’m in that swamp alone, they ain’t even goin’ to be no swamp left where I come tearin’ my way out of there. Now, you better shet up sech talk and go git us a good lidard knot so’es we kin git goin’.”
Skeeter took a burning stick from the hearth and went to the back of the clearing where they stacked the wood to get a fat pine knot to use as a torch. When he got back, he was slapping his neck and howling with pain. “We better git some of that oil I got and rub on us afore we leave,” he said. “Them skeeters is shore out to kill a feller tonight. Dem if’n I couldn’t feel the blood runnin’ out’n me when that devil sucked.”
“I don’t know which would be the wust,” said Jeff, “havin’ them skeeters suck the hide off’n me or have that stinkin’ crap you made smeared all over me. Hit’s like choosin’ betwix a turtle and a gar. What you put in that stuff, anyway, Skeeter?”
“Hit’s a potion a ole nigger give me at Mill Town onced. Hit’s got jest about everthing in it.”
“Well, I don’t doubt that a bit. Now go get the stuff and let’s git on in the swamp.”
Skeeter went into the room where he and Jeff slept and pulled a long box from under the bed. The box contained many odds and ends and several bottles of potions that Skeeter had made for different purposes. He selected a bottle with a murky red fluid in it and went back to the kitchen where Jeff waited by the fire. When he opened the bottle, Ma dropped the broom and ran from the kitchen.
“Good gosh a mighty, Skeeter,” Theresa shouted, “whut in the world is hit you got in that bottle? Hit smells like the devil’s breath itself.”
“Damn, Skeeter,” said Jeff. “If’n hit’s all the same to you, I’ll jest stick by the skeeters and let you keep that stinkin’ stuff to yoreself.” Ma Corey came running back to the kitchen, dragging Pa with her. “Jest git you a whif uv that stuff,” she said, “and you
