leading him to a bench over which was an arch of roses. "She's sending us back to Greenwood
tomorrow," I told him after we had sat down. "So soon?"
"Not soon enough for her," I said bitterly. I took
a deep breath. "But don't let me focus only on myself.
Tell me about home, about your sisters, everyone." I sat back and listened as he spoke, permitting
myself to fall back through time. When I lived in the
bayou, life was harder and far poorer, but because of
Grandmere Catherine, it was much happier. Also, I
couldn't help but miss the swamp, the flowers and the
birds, even the snakes and alligators. There were
scents and sounds, places and events I recalled with
pleasure, not the least of which was the memory of
drifting in a pirogue toward twilight, with nothing in
my heart but mellow contentment. How I wished I
was back there now.
"Mrs. Livaudais and Mrs. Thirbodeaux are still
going strong," he said. "I know they miss your
grandmere." He laughed. It sounded so good to my
ears. "They know I've kept in contact with you,
although they don't come right out and say so. Usually
they wonder aloud in my presence about Catherine
Landry's Ruby."
"I miss them. I miss everyone."
"Your grandpere Jack is still living in the house
and still, whenever he gets drunk, which is often,
digging holes and looking for the treasure he thinks
your grandmere buried to keep from him. I swear, I
don't know how he stays alive. My father says he's
part snake. His skin does look like he's been through a
tannery, and he comes slithering out of shadows and