Bayou Justice

Humidity, the South's great oppressor, seized the Louisiana bayou firmly by the throat. Late afternoon heat washed through the air in waves, turning and mixing to make the region downright sticky. CoCo LeBlanc wiped her brow and squinted, scanning the grassy shores. A living bulk shifted on the lush embankment, then the alligator stretched its mouth, his jagged teeth glistening in the late afternoon sun. Moodoo appeared healthy. CoCo stared, smiling at the twelve-foot reptile. She let out a long sigh. It'd been a rough couple of weeks, nursing the prehistoric beast back from the brink of death. Stupid poacherswould they never learn they couldn't hunt alligators anytime they got the notion? If she ever caught them...Moodoo waddled along the banks, then surged his large body into the bayou. CoCo marked his location on her tracking sheet and then fired up the airboat's engine. She settled into the single seat before turning the steering wheel to head back to the house. Picking up speed, the airboat skimmed over the murky bayou. Drops of water jetted up, spraying CoCo's face and arms. She leaned closer to the edge of the boat, welcoming the cool mist. July in Lagniappe meant misery, no matter how you chopped it.She banked the airboat and tied off on the knotty root of a live oak tree that had survived for several centuries. Stepping to the ground, she let the air pockets bubble up around her feet before striding toward the house with sure steps. Her hair was plastered to the nape of her neck, and her thin cotton tank top clung to her back. Too bad her tan lines were so messed up because she couldn't wear the same style shirt to work every day.A man's angry voice burst through the cicadas' chirped song. "You get out or I'll have the sheriff force you out.""You get on, now, Beau Trahan. Before I put a gris-gris on you," her grandmother replied, her voice quivering.CoCo recognized that tone and quickened her pace. What now? She rounded the corner of the old plantation home to find Mr. Beau and Grandmere facing off on the veranda. She took the stairs two at a time, the wood creaking in protest. "What's going on here?"The businessman in slacks and shirt, complete with powerred tie, faced her and glared. "Your grandmother seems to think she's above the law. As usual.""Get off my land, you old goat." Grandmere's deep green eyes narrowed to slits and she took a step in his direction."It's not your land, vielle." He wagged his finger in front of Grandmere's face.Not a good move on his part to call her an old woman, not good at all. CoCo shifted between the dueling elders, popping her hands on her hips. "What's this all about, Grandmere?" She turned to her grandmother, but kept track of Mr. Beau from the corner of her eye."He says he owns this house." Her grandmother waved a crumpled piece of paper. "Says he's evicting us. Just threats. All little men like him can do is threaten.""Read the notice, you bat. Marcel signed this land over to me years ago when he couldn't pay his gambling debt. It's all legalI drew up the papers myself." Beau Trahan, tall and distinguished as a retired politician should look, crossed his arms over his puffed-up chest.Sounded like something her late grandfather would have done.CoCo and her sisters had moved in with their grandparents thirteen years ago when their parents had died in a car accident. Grandpere died five years ago, after CoCo had returned to Lagniappe from college. The last years of his life had been littered with gambling and depression.CoCo pried the paper from her grandmother's fist and scanned the eviction notice, chewing her bottom lip. Thirty days, that's all they had to save their home. She squared her shoulders and set her jaw, piercing him with her stare. "You've served your notice, Mr. Trahan. I'll contact my attorney immediately, and he'll get back to you regarding this matter.""Not going to do you any good, youngCaroll, Robin is the author of 'Bayou Justice', published 2007 under ISBN 9780373442645 and ISBN 0373442645.