Bitter Root (9 page)

He walked
toward her, raising his hand. A gun? Why does papa have a gun? The blood was
almost to her neck. “Papa, please!”

There was a
flash and she flew backward, pain slicing through her.

Adi sat up clutching her chest, sweat making her shirt cling to
her. Her pulse raced, and she tried to calm herself by taking deep breaths.

That didn’t
happen. It was a dream.
She felt wetness on her cheeks and knew
she’d been crying in her sleep.
I
can’t let him find me.

Griffith walked out onto the dock at the Jeanerette Canal
landing a little after ten. It was already hot, and the bayou made the air
steamy with humidity. She wiped at the sweat trickling down her forehead and
looked back at Adi, near the truck. She’d been quiet on the ride here, not
saying more than a few words. Her eyes were puffy and bruised looking.
I guess she’s not a morning
person. I’m not going to let it ruin this glorious day. She’ll perk up.

Griffith looked out at the water. This place was surreal; the
bayou looked like a scene from a campy “alligators are going to eat you” horror
flick. There were trees in the waterway, their bases covered in green lichen.
The classic Spanish moss hung so low on the limbs it brushed the water’s
surface in places. Cypress knees poked above the water here and there.

It was just a little eerie, and it couldn’t have been any further
from her life in LA than if she were on the moon. If it weren’t such a
beautiful sunny day, she would’ve turned around and headed back to her hotel
room in New Iberia. Sighing, she walked back to the truck to help unload the
boat.

“Wow, canoes have changed since the nineties. This thing looks
pretty high-tech.”

Adi laughed. “Not really. It’s just borrowed some old ideas from
kayaking to make it lighter and easier to maneuver. Come on, let’s get her in
the water.”

Griffith and Adi off-loaded the canoe. It was nice how easily
they worked together. No communication necessary, just easy. They slid the long
shell into the still water. It barely disturbed the surface. Adi steadied the
hull as Griffith climbed in. She was happy it went as smoothly as it did, since
she really didn’t want to be gator bait. She hadn’t been in a small boat in
years. The bright purple hull was solid and the molded seat was comfortable
enough.

Adi leaned forward and handed her an oar. “Here you go. I usually
paddle up to Lake Fausse Point. It’s about a two-hour paddle. That’s what
you’re going to want to see. We can relax there for a while and then make the
paddle back in about an hour and twenty minutes, with the tide. Does that sound
okay?”

“Sure. It will feel good to get a workout.”

“Great. Let’s go.”

As they glided along the bayou, Adi pointed out various landmarks
to Griffith. Some were manmade, others purely natural. It was abundantly clear
to Griffith that Adi loved the bayou.

“You know what the Chitimacha say about the Teche?”

“The Chitimacha?”

“The native people that originally inhabited this area. They’re
still here, and very much a part of what makes this area unique.”

“Really? What do they say about the Teche?”

“In their folklore, when the tribe was strong, there was a huge
venomous snake. It was so long they measured it in days it took to walk its
length. The snake was an enemy of the people because it was swallowing their
way of life. One day their chief called together the warriors and bid them to
kill the snake. They had only clubs, spears, and arrows to kill it, but swore
they would succeed. It took them days and the snake twisted and turned in the
fight. During its last death throes, it slowed and flattened, lying still at
last. The Great Spirit flooded the place of its death with life-giving water,
and the tribe flourished. The bayou Teche is proof of the snake’s exact
position when it breathed its last breath.”

“That was some snake, huh?”

“Yeah. I love those old folk tales. My dad used to tell me all
sorts of tales when I was a kid.”

This was the first time Adi had mentioned her father. Griffith
carefully navigated around the casual slip. “Did he? My dad was always at work
when I was a kid. I don’t remember him being around much at all.”

“That’s too bad. My dad was a shrimper. He took me out with him
on the Gulf as often as he could. Those were good days.”

“Sounds like it. My mother was always there for me growing up. I
could count on her, no matter what.”

“That must have been nice. It’s that way with me and Bertie. I
know she’s always in my corner. She’s all the family I’ll ever need.”

“What about your mom? Was she in your corner?”

Griffith sensed the stillness her casual question created.
Damn. You pushed a little too
hard, McNaulty.
Hoping to break the tension she said, “Wow, what
kind of bird is that? It’s huge.”

Adi rewarded her effort by looking where Griffith pointed. “Oh,
that’s a blue heron. Aren’t they beautiful? You’ll see plenty of them while
you’re here.”

“I’m glad. I like them. What do you think about when you travel
the bayou? When you’re alone, I mean?”

“All sorts of things, I guess. Sometimes I think about the
restaurant, or something new to try on the menu. Sometimes I think about things
I can do to thank Bertie. Mostly, I just think about how peaceful it is here.
How I don’t have to worry about things.”

“Do you worry a lot?”

“Some. Not as much as I used to. When I was younger, I always
worried that someone might try to take me away from Bertie. Make me go live
with strangers or something. Now those worries are behind me.”

“Bertie is pretty amazing, huh?”

“Heck yeah. She’s a truly wonderful person.”

“Hmm.”

They paddled along silently, watching the wildlife and listening
to the unbelievably loud croaking of the bullfrogs. Before long, the bayou
widened out into Lake Fausse. Here the trees were incredible. They could paddle
right up to their trunks. All sorts of birds were everywhere.

“Look, over there.” Adi was pointing to the east. At the top of a
cypress tree was a large nest. “That’s a bald eagle nest.”

“How can you tell?”

“By the size and location. If we’re lucky we might catch sight of
the nesting birds.”

“That would be amazing.”

They stilled their paddles and drifted between two large tree
trunks, watching the nest. As they watched, an eagle flew gracefully across the
waterway and landed on the nest. Griffith’s arms broke out in goose bumps and
she caught her breath. Again, she was reminded just how far she was from LA. It
was such an elegant bird, in such a serene place.

“Here, let’s have a bite to eat and rest a while. I didn’t bring
anything too fancy, just sandwiches and trail mix. Oh, and water.”

Adi passed her a sandwich and a water bottle. The setting, the
food, and the company were all so perfect. She enjoyed being around Adi, around
the calm she projected and the way she made such a simple life look so
inviting.
What is it
she’s hiding? Why can’t this simple life be her story?

Griffith shook her head. It didn’t matter how nice this was, how
nice Adi was. What mattered was the truth. She owed it to herself, and to Dawn,
to find out what Adi’s issues were before they printed a big feature piece. The
hard questions were still ahead, and with a little luck, she could get the answers
without losing this connection. Adi could be a real friend if they could get
past the hard stuff.

“Adi?”

“Huh?”

“Tell me about when you first met Bertie. What was it about her
that made you trust her?”

Adi was quiet for a long moment as she thought. “I was just a
kid, you know? I didn’t think about whether or not I could trust her. She saw
me, she got me up, fed me. I don’t know. I just knew I was safe.”

“Why? Why did you need someone to make you safe? What was chasing
you?”

“I don’t want to talk about that. I already told you.”

Griff decided to lay her cards on the table. Around here, that
seemed to be the way to go. “I know what you told me, but I still have to ask.
It’s what I do. I need to know, for me. I have to be sure that when we print
your story, Dawn’s magazine can stand behind it.”

“I don’t care what you need for your story. I don’t talk about
that time. That’s not me anymore. I’m done talking about it now. Let’s talk
about something else.”

Griffith could hear the anger in Adi’s voice and wished she could
see her expression to know just how upset she was. If she wasn’t careful, she
could get her California butt dropped into the swamp.

“Okay. Fine. Let’s talk about something else. What do you want to
talk about?”

“Let’s talk about you for a change.”

Griffith laughed out loud. “Me? Okay. What would you like to
know?”

“What made you want to be a reporter?”

“That’s a fair question. I guess I’ve always loved people’s
stories. Even as a kid, I wanted to know about other people. What made them who
they were. I loved asking the questions that got them talking, maybe because I
didn’t have stories of my own. My life was pretty classic Americana. No drama,
typical family. Maybe I was looking for heroic people to fill my subconscious,
I don’t know.”

She took a chance on upsetting the canoe, and shifted to look
back at Adi. The intensity she felt talking about herself was reflected in
Adi’s eyes. “One thing I do know, I’m good at my job. I’m good at it because I
care. I want to know everything because I genuinely care about the people I
write about. It has come back to bite my ass, but I care. I think people’s
stories should be heard. Not just the big names, or the stuff everyone gets to
hear about. The real stuff, the things that matter, the parts that make someone
who they are. What makes you who you are, Adi?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I mean you’re probably the only twenty-two-year-old in the
world who doesn’t have a vibrant life on social media. When I Googled you
before coming here, I couldn’t find a single thing about you. That’s unusual.”

“Oh, well, I don’t really have a lot of time to spend on the
Internet. We don’t even have a computer at home. I like to spend my free time
like this. Living real, not virtual.”

“No computer at home? Wow, I have my computer with me most of the
time, and if not, I have my smartphone. It’s essential for me to be connected.”

“I’m connected, just not with electronics. I’m connected to this
place, to other places I’ve explored. I don’t know. I just don’t feel compelled
to be online. It’s not what’s important to me.”

Griff thought about that. It was refreshing to think of life
without constant information overload. Refreshing, and maybe a little bit
scary. “I’ve had friends in LA go on technology vacations. You know, no Internet,
no TV for periods of time, but I’ve never known anyone who just wasn’t
connected. It’s so different.”

“It works for me. I think if I did all of that, I’d be stressed
out all the time. I like the pace of things here. I’ve got everything I need.”

“Interesting,” Griff said. She turned back around and slipped her
paddle into the still water. “Let’s go. I’m ready to see more of this beautiful
place.”

Adi dug in as well and the craft began to move across the lake.
When they neared the eastern edge of the lake, the marsh grass thickened and
only a narrow strip of water cut through.

“This looks like fun. Is it navigable?”

“Most of the time it is. It leads back into Bayou L’Embarras. We
could go, but we won’t be able to turn back until it widens out. That will be a
bit of a haul.”

“But it looks like so much fun.”

“Looks can be deceiving. I got stuck in a weed row like that so
bad once I had to back paddle for almost an hour. Believe me, we don’t want to
do that. We could head up to the state park, though. The waterway narrows down
there, but not quite so much. There will be gators up that way, if you want to
see them.”

“Okay, that sounds like fun.”

They headed north and west to the park and saw about a dozen
alligators along the way. It made Griffith nervous the way they sat in the
water with just their eyes and nostrils showing. Adi assured her they had
nothing to worry about.

By the time they made it back to the canal landing, Griffith
could feel the ache of a good workout in her shoulders and arms. She’d be sore
tomorrow, but she wouldn’t have missed this adventure for the world.

“Isn’t it going to be hard to be on your feet cooking all day
tomorrow?”

“Oh, I’ll feel it, but it will pass. I do this pretty regularly,
you know.”

“Well, I know I’m not picking up a single thing tomorrow. Thank
you for this day, Adi. I really had a great time.”

“You’re welcome. I’m usually on my own out there. It was nice to
have company. I…I’m sorry about earlier. I know you’re just doing your job. I
hope we can be friends?”

“Sure we can. I hope you’ll trust me enough to tell me your story
someday. I get that you can’t right now, but let’s not close the door on that.
Please?”

Adi nodded but didn’t say anything else. It was something,
anyway. Griff didn’t have a ton of time, and she got the feeling it was going
to be slow and steady movement with Adi.
Toe
the line. We’ll get there.

*

Adi stretched her achy shoulders before getting out of bed. The
trip with Griffith yesterday had been a lot of fun, but she would be paying the
price for it today. At least she didn’t have sore legs to go with her arms. She
wondered how Griffith was feeling this morning. She would check in with her
later. It was nice to have Griffith around. She was surprised at how
comfortable she felt around her. The invitation to go canoeing had slipped out
without her thinking about it, and she’d desperately wanted to back out. But
when Griff had shown up, all smiles and light, the doubts vanished. Instead,
she’d been filled with nervous excitement and had wanted to make sure Griff had
a good time.