Eternity Swamp by T. C. Tereschak Read Free Book Online Page A

like granddaddy: sweat, chewing tobacco, and whiskey.
    J.W.’s heart began to slow and asked if the old fellow had seen any dogs run by.
    “No, no I can’t rightly say I’ve seen any dogs run by. Yer dogs run off on ya eh? Ha, ha, I can’t tell ya how many times somethin’ like that has happened to me. Sometimes I can’t get my hounds to heed me none, ha, ha.”
    J.W. smiled, the old buck laughed like his granddaddy used to, a cough-laugh. He asked what kind of dogs this fellow had and what he ran them after.
    “My dogs? Well, yeah…I run from time to time, although I can’t say they’re a huntin’ dog, not in the purest sense, more of a watch dog slash, huntin’ hound, a special sportin’ breed, you might say. Mostly, they keep watch over my place.
    “I ain’t seen you around these parts before. Where you from son? You’re all the way up here from Sneads? Oh yeah, I know Sneads. I’ve had occasion to drop in down there from time to time. But, son, do you know where you are? Florida? Yeah, well…maybe, I reckon you might still be in Florida, but right around here, well this is where Florida, Georgia, and Alabama all come together. You could be in anyone of those three.
    “So you’ve never been up ’round here before then? Got yourself turned around a mite, eh? Well on a night like tonight, when you’ve lost your direction, it’s best to pick a spot, sit on down, and wait for the sun to come up. Then you’ll get your bearings and come sunup you can head right on out.
    “Here, let’s sit on down on that log over yonder. Watch that ol’ cottonmouth on the edge there. Boy, what are you jumpin’ for? Oh, you don’t like snakes. Oh, you hate snakes. You one of them what kills a snake every time you see one? Yeah, that’s what I thought. Only good snake is a dead snake, right? Yeah, I’ll have t’ remember that.
    “How ’bout spiders? Oh, you don’t mind ’em eh? Ha, ha. Oh, no reason, I find it funny is all. Some folks hate spiders, some snakes or gators, heck I knew a feller once hated butterflies. Can you believe it, a grown man afraid of a butterfly? Said he hated the way its…what’s it called, a proboscis? Said he hated the way it uncurled and sucked. So with you it’s snakes then, eh? Ha, ha. Well, watch where you place for feet, and your seat, and the company you keep, and you’ll be all right. Here, I’ll take this here stick and flick him off…There. Now we can have a seat and rest our bones a bit.
    “Ah…much better. Care for a nip? No? Oh, you don’t drink, eh? Good for you son, it’s a vice, it surely is. You don’t mind if I do then…ah, just what the doctor ordered. How ’bout a chaw? All right, here ya go, help yourself. Oh yeah, that’s good t’baccer, ain’t it? Yes sir. What kind is it? It’s my own special blend. Here take the whole pouch, I got lots more back at my place.
    “Me? What am I doing out here this late at night? Well, I’ll tell ya. I never married and sometimes late at night I get restless, so I come out here and wander around, watching and listening. Listening to the night sounds. This ol’ swamp is beautiful at night. Especially on a night like tonight, with a full moon shinin’ down through the Spanish moss, enough light so you don’t go bumping off into anythin’, or steppin’ off into anythin’, quicksand or the like.
    “Yeah, most people don’t appreciate the beauty of a slough in the daylight, let alone at night. But me, I like it just fine. See that moss hanging down from that ol’ cypress yonder. If you get a little dew fallin’ and a sweet breeze blowing just right it’ll dance and shimmer in the moonlight. Yes sir, she’ll dance for ya, put on a pretty little show. I can set out here for hours listen to—Boy, what the hell are you doin, jumpin’ up like that? You ’bout scared all the hell out of me. You got a spring in your britches? Sure, sure I heard it. Yeah, it did sound like a scream. But…this ol’