The Atchafalaya is knocking on our door. They are forecasting a historic flood. When they open the Morganza Spillway, waters from the Mighty Mississip will wrap around me. How high? For how long? No one knows.
So, as I contemplate what's to come, I'd like to go back to my story. I will leave the water worries to the Good Lord. My life is his.
One day, much to my delight, the lady showed up with a few bags in hand. She was going to stay here for awhile while the man worked offshore. It turns out that she had her own home but because of floodwaters, she would stay there with him. Before that, he would stay with her when he was around. Now they would both stay there together.
He offered room and board. She offered to take care of the house and yard and to fix things up. From the outside, they looked like a happy, even cute couple. When alcohol is added to the picture, it's not quite what it looks like from the outside.
She was out in the yard most of the time, digging in flower beds, or fishing, or feeding birds. Her two daughters would visit and I enjoyed the life they brought to the place. The air was filling up with love. The man came in on occassion but then usually headed to the duck camp. I was always relieved when he was gone. I dreaded to see the dark side of him that came out with enough alcohol.
It was little things, at first, that made me doubt him. Isn't that the way they work though? Through the years it gets darker, uglier, more evil...until...