Bayou

Chapter 5 ~ Provide

Chapter 5

Stepping into the shack was like stepping through a time portal. Relics of a time when people were free, and the world made some sense abounded. A couch, boxy and outdated, sat coated in filth under a large window on the back wall. A lamp, finely made with iron-style lace and ornate stained glass fought to be noticed beneath a coating of cobwebs. Altogether, the house was only big enough for three rooms. A kitchen, one great room, and a small bedroom that protruded off the back like an afterthought. The door to it stood wide open, revealing a twin-sized mattress on the floor and a massive array of boxes lining the back wall. To my left was a wooden ladder that led to a loft space just big enough for a person to lay flat in.

No need for a tour; I barely needed to turn my head to see it all.  A kerosene lantern illuminated a round wooden table dead center of the kitchen, but whatever burned inside the glass wasn't kerosene. I paused; eyes narrowed at the neon green sludge resting in the bottom. "What's in that lantern?" I walked toward it, already knowing the answer. I knew nothing about the chemical they'd pumped into me every day for the past few months, but I knew that this was it. I knew every face I'd watched wither and fade away. I knew how long each woman lasted; whether she'd cried and begged or sat stoic and resigned. I'd known it was toxic. I'd known it was deadly, but flammable? The flame was brighter than average, a slight lilac hue to its edges. They'd injected that into us. Into human beings. What I really wanted to know was where the hell this man got it from, and how he'd discovered it would burn.

He motioned toward the light. "That's sludge," he said. "Sludge makes fire. Croc provides that."

Julia laughed beneath her breath. She was bent down a few feet behind me, rummaging through the bags in search of food for the children.

Croc held his beard, pulling it in a way that made me think it was a nervous habit.

"I've had enough sludge. Thank you."

For a long moment, our gazes held. His eyes were intense, shimmering around the edges with the same neon green, probably a reflection.

He tilted his head, watching me study him, then gently pulled a chair from the table. "Croc provides food."

I opened my mouth to decline.

Julia interjected. "I have something for the kids to eat. They're exhausted. Would you mind if I laid them down somewhere?"

He jolted like an eager dog trying to earn a treat. "Croc has bed."

Julia leaned back and winked at me as he gently took her arm and led her toward the open doorway. I followed at a distance.

The bedroom was carpeted at least, though what color it was meant to be was uncertain. Julia took the top two blankets off the twin mattress and popped them into the air, forming a cloud of dust that made Eric sneeze.

Croc jumped at the sound, then stared down at the boy with wide eyes. Before I could think to be worried, he dropped down onto his knees, leveling himself with the child.

Julia spread the blankets back over the mattress.

Eric stayed with him, looking back with matching curiosity. Child-like, both of them. But Croc wasn't a child, and when he lifted his massive hand and touched the downy brown curls, I took an instinctive step forward.

"It's fine, Willow," Julia said, still focused on her task.

I chewed my lip and watched as Eve stepped closer as well. Neither of them had looked at me like that when I'd found them hidden among the filth. Neither had seemed so relaxed, not even in the car after we made it away. What was it about this place, this man, that put them so at ease? A part of me wanted to scoop them up and keep running until we reached the end of the world. Another part wanted to join in, allow myself a blissful reprieve from warranted fear and constant survival. The privilege of naivety, of blind faith. I couldn't remember the last time I'd experienced something so valuable.