Louisiana Saturday Night Page 5

  Leonie shuddered. Amadee thought he was Noah and that they were boarding the Ark. They would all go. And they were all there would be.

  Tout le monde

  Every one, everything. The World.

  Chapter Four: Hurricane Harrison (the backside)

  Amadee built the houseboat himself, or rebuilt it, using the best supplies he could find. It wasn’t a pretty boat, but it was powerful, had plenty of room for everyone, and it could withstand anything. Oh, she was an ugly thing, but she had good hips and a strong hull, like a breeding woman. She wasn’t pretty and thin, delicate or fancy. She was born to run and survive, and that was the bayou way.

  The youngest ones in the family were stuffed in the back room with coloring books and basins to vomit in as the waters tossed the boat mercilessly. Belle was the only one allowed to roam about as she reported on the little ones and helped Leonie. Amadee, Virgil, and Buford hovered around the helm, making sure they stayed stable. With three bedrooms and two bunkrooms, everyone had a place to sleep as the storm raged on and finished its trek across the state.

  Amadee’s family didn’t know, or wouldn’t have cared if they had known, but New Orleans and the surrounding areas were all underwater. In 2005, Katrina was declared one of the top deadliest hurricanes of all time, killing almost two thousand people and leaving thousands homeless. Harrison, later, would be declared the worst hurricane to ever hit the United States, and the death toll would climb to more than ten thousand. The storm produced record-breaking rains, double what was normal for a storm that size and double what the area had ever suffered.

  Levees, reconstructed after Katrina, were up to code and strong, but Harrison destroyed them, leaving ninety percent of the area underwater. Had they held, as people believed they would, it would have made no difference as the water, thirty-five feet deep (twice what was a normally high water level) swept over the twenty-five foot levees.

  The Audettes slept through the storm, bouncing in the boathouse. Leonie bit back her anger that this was, despite the storm, one of her most peaceful nights because she had a clean bed, no bugs crawling about the floor and onto the bed, and she didn’t have to listen to the shack creaking and settling. Two little ones were tucked into bed with her, and the floor was made into a big sleeping bag, but she still had room to wiggle, a working bathroom, and clean air.

  Never mind that Amadee set the bathroom to empty the sewage into the water.

  And Amadee had them live like trash day-to-day when he had this nice boat built. Few other families lived like Amadee chose to; a few did, but he chose to live in squalor. Sometimes, Leonie felt pure hatred for her husband.

  Amazing how sharing one bathroom with so many people was still like a gift from God when compared to sharing an outhouse with them. The lack of spiders crawling on the toilet was like Heaven itself as was having a light to find the toilet paper.

  In the morning light, leaving the smallest of the children inside with the girls, Leonie, Amadee, and the two oldest boys crept outside to look around. Twigs and leaves covered the deck of the houseboat, old, big trees lay in piles, and here and there, chickens, frogs, and one ‘gator floated, dead.

  Amadee glanced over the destruction with a sort of glee.

  “Dat caimon and critters, get dey here wit us, and Leonie can cook dem up fine,” Amadee ordered Buford and Virgil. He saw the dead animals as potential food. The ‘gator could be fried or blackened with spices, the frogs put into stew or fried golden, and the chickens could be made into many foods. Amadee always thought with his stomach.

  “They may have swallered the foul water and dey been soakin’ in it,” Buford said. He let the carcasses float back into the bayou.

  Leonie hated the way Buford mimicked his stepfather’s speech.

  “We don’t have enough food for to keep all fed,” Amadee said, “we gonna need some meat, boys, Audette style.”

  Leonie shivered.

  “Lookie where we is at, Daddy. Everything is under water now; I figure a good twenty-five feet; you think Candy Lynn is okay?”

  Amadee frowned at Buford, “She’s about to foal-up, ain’t she? Dat family don’t know shit about surviving a flood like dis, no. Now, I’m worried for my Candy Lynn. We best be heading that way afore to see ‘bout my baby gal.” He said ‘surviving’ as sa-vive-un.

  He hadn’t thought of his oldest daughter before, but now she was on his mind. A grandbaby was a fine thing. He loved Candy Lynn more than all the other little ones put together.

  Buford said he’d steer them that way, but before he walked in to take control, he grinned and pointed, “Lookie…survivors on det roof, Daddy. I say we go save them…Audette style.” He rubbed his crotch.

  Amadee Audette chuckled and nodded, “We is, Boy. We sure’ nuff is.”

  Chapter Four: From the Balcony the Lady Doth Wave

  Friends and family gathered on the balcony and in the third floor rooms of the Theriot house. Where they were now and how they were reacting to all they had been through said a lot about character of each, Frank thought. His heart sank since most didn’t live up to what he hoped for; they didn’t even come close.

  As water rose, Frank had his employees (Not slaves, dammit, he whispered in his head to Emeline, Trish, and Landry) and family gather everything they could for the upcoming days they might have to wait before rescuers came for them. Most of his family ran up and down the stairs several times, carrying all they could. They had boxes of water, boxes of canned food, and boxes of pasta, rice, and dried goods. They took up totes full of all the vegetables and fruit in the house as well as canned goods.

  Emeline first grabbed a piece of crystal and then a clock from the mantle. When the boys ignored her orders to carry the parlor furniture upstairs, she tried to roll up the fine rug but gave up. When Frank threatened to carry her up the stairs over his shoulder, she reluctantly filled her arms with crystal and the clock and a few smaller pieces that she put into a bag with towels and carried upstairs. She set everything on a bed upstairs.

  Frank watched her with faint disgust.

  When the water broke the levees and came up, it did so as a wave, like a tsunami, flowing as a muddy, brown mess that brought the dead parts of trees, and the debris from homes with it. Sewage and oil rose with the water, bringing a stench with it that was like inhaling air next to an outhouse in the summer. The miasma covered them with the humid air, seeping into their pores.

  The waves pushed cars into mangled piles of metal, filled homes several feet deep with mud and rotting vegetation. Unprepared people, or those who died in the storm, were carried along as well to rot in the water. Those who waited patiently on roofs for the National Guard or someone to come save them were hit by the wave and tossed against tree branches, cars, and buildings until they were bloodied and broken to pieces. The water rose over the homes and up taller buildings, filling them.

  Bodies, like rag dolls, floated among the other debris like trash.

  Once Frank’s family, employees, and friends were upstairs, the water hit the house in a huge wave. The water swept into the house, breaking out leaded windows and seeping in until a huge cypress slammed into the double door and splintered it to shards. The water was free to pour in, bringing with it mud, old rotting plants, rotting fish, and the slime from the bayou. Algae filled every crack as the entire place rocked. The family heard precious furniture and possessions being battered and soaked. Emeline wept with Trish. Nothing inside would be salvaged but was broken and left for the bottom feeders and sludge.

  Frank was relieved when the water finally stopped rising. A bloated cow was dashed against the house with a huge thud and spun about to go around, but a few soaked, tattered chicken went thru a broken window to add more rot.

  Abagail, so kind, carried around a little blue tube of Vicks-Vapo-Rub so that each could put a little dab under his nose to avoid the nauseating, decaying, putrid smells of the waters. Not only were there bodies and vegetable matter rotting along with the sewage, but
also the bayou had turned over, which to some is difficult to understand.

  Imagine reaching into a small fishpond in the backyard, digging down into the bottom where the last of the plants and animals decay in the mud. It might be fish, snails, or bugs, but they all decay in the mud. And all life in the little pond has deposited waste that is in the mud. Normally it’s covered by slightly cleaner water, but imagine reaching into the mud and pulling a huge glop out and smearing it on the stones and all over the top of the water.

  That musky, dead, green-bad smell. That’s it. When the Bayou turns over, all the bad stuff rises up.

  “Oh…look….” Sadie, Trish’s friend, took on a bright happiness as she saw a sack floating in the nasty water. Showing off, she slipped down the railing and clung to a downspout, smiling and kicking out her long, coltish legs. She was a star athlete in school, and nothing was too difficult for her.

  “Get back here,” Remy yelled, sounding every bit like his father, Frank.

  “Is it my sewing?” Emeline asked, showing interest.

  They didn’t want whatever it was, Frank said. It was soaked in foul water and unsanitary now. He was ashamed that Emeline asked about her sewing as if that mattered and as if they could retrieve it. She had no common sense.

  Sadie snagged the bag with a toe of her sneaker and then shrieked.

  “What? What is it?” Remy climbed partially down the railing, despite Frank’s warning. He groaned. Twisted into the bag with a rope and tree branches was the top half of a woman, her face crushed and clothing torn away; her lower half was missing. A hand clenched the bag but ended at the elbow and didn’t belong to the other dead corpse since it had both its arms.

  “Yuk, she’s dead,” Trish yelped.

  Remy thought the victims had been torn apart by the floodwaters and then nibbled by big catfish in the filthy water. But then what he saw was impossible, really, something that was not a part of New Orleans, even in hurricane times. He blinked.

  Above Remy, Beau yelled something unintelligible, but warning in tone.

  Frank yelled to get back up to the balcony; he had seen the impossible as well.

  Sadie saw the strange thing, too, and it startled her so badly that she lost hold of the drain.

  Sadie fell into the water, kicking away the mess of bodies close to her and reaching to pull herself back up. Normally, she would either lose hold and be swept away, which was horrible, or in the best case, be saved and cause a problem as people tried to clean her. She had no doubt that she could pull herself up again and get free of the filth.

  The fin rose higher.

  Sadie, trying to get herself up and whining and complaining with a certain amount of fear in her face, forced down revulsion and reached up, but Remy’s face scared her. He looked terrified. Sadie had always had such a crush on Trish’s stepbrother; he was so handsome and nice, but that was changed as she looked at him.

  His face stretched into a mask of pure horror; he was ugly like that.

  Sadie looked behind her and tried to make sense of what she saw.

  The fin was tall, very rough-textured and dark grey, and it swept around in the flood with no problem; the fish was strong enough to swim in the direction and the way it wanted. Sadie shivered and shook all over, desperate and panicked.

  Sadie almost had a hand up to pull herself to safety, but a faint tug pulled her down a few inches. That was more frustrating and irritating than anything. Branches always snagged and pulled at the wrong time. She kicked the branch or whatever it was but didn’t feel anything.

  Please don’t let the shark see me in the muddy water, she begged.

  Remy jerked back.

  Sadie wondered why the water had grown darker and warmer. Had she peed the water? She almost flushed. Her ankle felt as if she had cut it or if maybe the branches had scratched her. She reached down. Disorientation swept her since she didn’t find her ankle even as she brought her leg up. Weird.

  She reached for her knee, trying to hold on to the drainpipe. At least, it was secure and strong. Her knee wasn’t there. What? Ice ran through her veins. She reached higher and felt the jagged bits of bone, cutting her hand open on them. Flesh felt slick and slimy.

  “No, oh, no….” Her words trailed into a senseless shrieking and screaming as the pain hit her. She threw her head back to shriek, staring at the cuts on her hand from the bone shards. Her leg was bitten through at the thigh, taken away and swallowed, and the fin was circling again. The rough skin scraped skin from her palm as she pushed at the shark when it swam against her.

  Her hand bled more.

  Sadie felt tired. She stopped screaming and relaxed as her blood drained away in the water. All around her was a brown-burgundy of blood. She hurt. But the initial pain dulled as her body started to shut down with shock and blood loss.

  Remy held on with white knuckles, yanking back the hand he reached to Sadie. Just as in a nightmare, the shark took her leg, and he saw blood bubble around her; she didn’t know for a few seconds. Her screams hurt his ears and his heart; the girl was in the brackish water, feeling that pain and terror; this was too much.

  The fish teased its victim and then lurched from the water, brown liquid pouring between its rows of teeth where flesh was clinging to them. It snapped her arm away with a mighty bite and a fearsome tug. Sadie made an “eeeeehhhh” sound of pain and fear, but her eyes rolled around in confusion, and it wasn’t clear that she knew what was happening anymore.

  Her hand slipped; she slid into the water.

  Remy knew it was too late, but he still moaned and heard, above, his family crying out as Sadie was lost. The fish flicked its tail and ignored her. It was if he weren’t interested if his prey were dead or unable to fight or scream.

  The fin turned and swept away, looking for fresh kills.

  Remy climbed up, and Beau helped his brother, giving him a hand and holding him steady, “Deep breaths.”

  “I…she….”

  “I know. There was nothing you could do, Rem. Take a few breaths; you’re pale,” Beau said.

  “Tell me I imagined that.”

  Frank patted Remy’s back, “It was real. Over her, I guess you couldn’t hear screaming up here. We have sharks in the flood water; I guess the lakes and coast over flowed with the rain; they swam in.”

  “Why? How would a shark do that?”

  “Sharks,” Beau said, “we saw another fin. I’ve heard they can go into rivers or mixed salt and fresh, but how anything can survive in that mess of water, I just don’t know.”

  “It’s New Orleans,” Frank said, implying more with his creased face.

  That was all earlier.

  Remy and Beau had shown fortitude and strength. Now, Frank watched everyone and reviewed his character.

  Abagail, Marie, and Nita sat with Candy Lynn and the baby. Abagail worried over them both since Candy Lynn bled heavily and remained pale and listless after Landry had shouted at her. She should be fine, but she wasn’t even trying to heal; she didn’t care. Frank was proud that Marie and Nita showed kindness and cared for Candy Lynn.

  Abagail went over to Frank, shaking her head about the shark and loss of Sadie, “Mister Frank, we gonna lose that girl and not have anything to feed that baby if she don’t take heart and heal up. It’s heartbreak killin’ her.”

  “She’s dying?” he asked. He felt as if he had been gut-punched.

  “Mister Frank, what you want me to do? I am a healer, but that girl is heart broke…talking bad about that baby girl…prettiest….”

  Frank tuned her out. His heart bled for Candy Lynn and the baby, but Landry was still sipping and drunker, but Frank had family and friends up on a balcony, and a few rooms with floodwaters, and sharks below.

  Emeline sat polishing her crystal. Frank felt so dismally alone that he didn’t know what to do. Emeline and her children were the biggest failure of his life.

  “Theriot family….”

  Frank looked up. The ugliest houseboat he had ever se
en was floating around the bend, and Buford Audette waved and called out. He smiled broadly and danced about the boat.

  It was sea worthy and strong, but it was still a hideously ugly boat.

  Beau waved back.

  “Hello, Amadee,” Frank said. The man was a prick at the best of times and to find him here instead of rescuers made Frank’s head ache.

  “Came to see about my gal Candy Lynn,” Amadee said, “Ooohh-eeehhh, you have yourself de fearsome mess here.”

  The boys tied the boat to the flooded house.

  “Yeah, we do have a mess.”

  “What done that?”

  Amadee pointed to the bag, rope, branches, and corpses. Sadie was mostly submerged but visible.

  “Shark.” Frank didn’t expect to be believed.

  “We saw some, we did out der in the bayou swimming. Ain’t that the Renault Girl?” Amadee peered at the girl in the water.

  “Yep. The shark….” he trailed off as Amadee nodded. This was going to get ugly. Frank felt responsible for Sadie’s death.

  Amadee motioned the rest to stay put as he and Buford climbed over the railing, “How’s my little gal? She about to foal?”

  “She had the baby. It’s a little girl.”

  “Oooohh-eeehee, that good to hear. A little girl…ain’t that just fine?”

  “She named her Julia Rose.” Frank led them to the room and bed where Candy Lynn lay.

  “Fine name…fancified though, ain’t it? What’s wrong? Candy-Girl?”

  Candy listlessly handed her sleeping bundle to her father, “Landry don’t want her. He says she’s a niggrah, Daddy.”

  Amadee looked puzzled and told Buford to go get his mother. Leonie would know how to best deal with this problem.

  Amadee examined the child, smiling and kissing her face, “Why Candy Lynn, she is a beautiful girl, and if she is mixed, that don’t matter none. C’est magnifique.” He took a breath, “You lying here all sad because of him? You be ortue and let it roll offa your back,” he made a motion of a turtle turning its back on others.