When they all had their stories straight, they moved on.
—
At the Mossy Point Campground, J. L. Dickenson and his family had just done the breakfast dishes. J.L. and J.L. Jr. had caught fish that morning, and Mother had fried them up while Maryanne had made some home fries.
They were debating over how they should spend their last day in camp when a bedraggled group of two old men and eleven dirty and emaciated children stumbled into their campsite. Mother Dickenson recognized Donny right away from the news, and they called both the ranger station and the sheriff’s department.
In Port Allen, Richard and Martin had had the manager open up their father’s room. It was clear the two had not spent the night there. After checking with hospitals and the morgue, George and his friend Jimmy were also listed as missing.
The group was taken to a nearby ranger station and examined by a doctor. He was surprised that they had all eaten recently, but they told him truthfully they had found someone’s dinner in a campsite, abandoned for some reason. Donny was in good shape, relatively speaking. The other children showed signs of malnutrition and exposure, but none, thankfully, showed signs of physical abuse. The doctor did recommend that all those involved should seek counseling, and that included Jimmy and George as well.
At noon, a van carrying the Watters clan and escorted by a sheriff’s squad car arrived at the ranger station.
Melissa and Trudy hugged Donny fiercely and covered him with kisses while they laughed and cried at the same time. He protested—he was eight, after all—but he thought being welcomed home by your moms was probably the best feeling in the world.
Once they had confirmed that their son was healthy, and that he wasn’t a mirage, they turned their attention to George and Jimmy. Each received bone-crushing hugs and tearful kisses, which left their cheeks moist.
“Daddy, I can’t thank you enough,” Melissa said, and Trudy nodded tearfully. Donny wrapped his arms around George’s waist and grinned up at him.
“He’s maybe the bravest fellow I ever met,” George said.
“Jimmy?” Donny asked.
“You,” said George. “I couldn’t be prouder of you.”
Donny’s grin grew wider.
Martin and Richard offered their thanks and their gratitude that both their father and Jimmy were unhurt.
“Mr. Kalmaku, if you ever need anything, you call me—day or night,” Martin said.
“It’s Jimmy,” Jimmy said, “and thank you.”
“And if you ever need anything,” Richard said, “call my brother—he’s loaded.”
They all laughed, then Richard said, “Seriously, if you are ever in Paris, I would be honored if you would visit us.”
Jimmy smiled. “I’ll do that if I can ever get George out of the house.”
“Turok, you can’t keep up with me in Seattle. You wait until I hit the Champs Élysées!”
—
The detectives sent by the Iberville Parish Sheriff’s Department were two younger men: a black man named Robert Prettejohn and a white man named Garner Thibodeau. Both were professional but compassionate, and Jimmy liked them right away.
The detectives wanted separate statements from all of them, especially George and Jimmy. Jimmy went first, and they escorted him into the ranger’s office.
“Mr. Kalmaku, we understand you’re tired,” said Detective Prettejohn, “and we don’t want to keep you too long…”
“That’s all right,” Jimmy said, “you don’t know how invigorating it is just to have everyone safe and have a decent cup of coffee.”
“We wouldn’t know about that,” Detective Prettejohn said. “These rangers get their coffee from Seattle, ours is filtered swamp water, I think.”
Jimmy laughed.
“Sir,” said Detective Thibodeau, “can you walk us through how y’all came to be in the bayou last night?”
It was a story George and Jimmy had created together. After dealing with the authorities in Los Angeles, they had an idea of what set off police alarm bells.
“George and I went to Green Water because we were told George had an acquaintance there. We met that woman, and she told us George had an aunt at the Green Water Convalescent Home.”
Prettejohn was listening while Thibodeau took notes.
“We went to visit the old woman at the home.”
“The woman who became so upset…” Detective Prettejohn offered.
“Yes, she claimed to have seen someone in her room. We wondered later if she meant outside her window.”
“And neither you nor Mr. Watters saw anything,” said Detective Thibodeau.
“No. She was really in the grips of Alzheimer’s so we thought she had some kind of episode.” Jimmy shook his head. “It was terrible, what happened to her.”
Both detectives nodded with genuine sympathy.
“Let’s get to the note,” Detective Thibodeau said.
Jimmy paused, thinking of George’s aunt Coraline. It saddened him to think her last moments were so horrible. Then he went on. “We came out to the rental car, and there was a note on the windshield. The envelope just said ‘G. Watters.’ Inside, a sheet of paper told George he could find Donny if he went to the strip mall at Fairview and Miner, and walked straight out from the hole in the wall behind the laundromat. It said he’d have to walk about a half mile, that he should do so that night, and come alone.”
“And he did.”
Jimmy nodded. “While I was asleep.” Jimmy shook his head in genuine disbelief. “Wearing ordinary clothes and loafers of all things. What was he thinking?”
“And you went after him,” Detective Prettejohn said.
“He’s my best friend,” said Jimmy. “Once I realized that he was gone, I went after him.”
“How did you know he had gone there?” Detective Thibodeau asked.
“Your colleagues, Detectives McCarthy and Satsuma, told me the rental car had been found at the strip mall. Why else would it be there?”
“Why didn’t you tell them about the note?” Detective Prettejohn asked.
“Do you gentlemen have a record of my interrogation?”
“Interview?” Detective Prettejohn offered.
Jimmy shook his head, and now his eyes flashed with anger. “They were accusing George and me of being complicit in Coraline’s death—said she had a fortune socked away. I got the distinct feeling that George and I, being nonwhite, had a lot to do with their attitude.”
Detective Prettejohn looked at Detective Thibodeau, and Jimmy knew he had hit a nerve.
“You know Coraline Boudreaux died in debt,” Detective Prettejohn said.
Jimmy shrugged. “I never thought one way or another about her financial status. George was trying to reunite with a member of his family, someone he didn’t even know existed until we talked to a former neighbor.”
“Please go on, Mr. Kalmaku,” Detective Prettejohn said. “You went after your friend George Watters.”
“Yes. I went to the store and got some food, water, and flashlights. I went through the wall and got lost, then found George, who was also lost. We were hoping to find the boys when a man in a top hat and mask and a couple of others we didn’t see grabbed us.”
“And they took you to this house out in the bayou.”
“Yes,” Jimmy said. “Horrible place. Donny was there, and several kids they had abducted.”
“Do you know why they were abducted, Mr. Kalmaku?”
“They didn’t confide in me,” Jimmy said. “Why do evil men do evil?”
“But you managed to slip out with the children?”
“Yes. One of the girls, the Vietnamese girl Trang, knew a hidden passage, which I guess used to be a servants’ corridor. We took that out after some of the men left.”
“Why do you think they left you untied?”
Jimmy laughed bitterly. “Because we’re old men, Detective. You reach a certain age and people figure you can’t do anything.”
“And
you were able to navigate through the bayou with all those kids and find the campground.”
Jimmy shrugged. “We all prayed to our various gods, and that girl Trang is very good at finding her way around. We were lucky she was there.”
The detectives nodded.
“Thank you, Mr. Kalmaku, that’s all for now,” said Detective Thibodeau.
“Mr. Kalmaku,” Detective Prettejohn said as Jimmy reached the door.
Jimmy turned.
“I’d like to shake your hand,” Detective Prettejohn said. “Louisiana and the Iberville Parish owe you a great debt.”
Detective Thibodeau nodded and he also shook Jimmy’s hand.
—
While Jimmy was in with the detectives, Delphine approached her father.
He looked at her, smiled humbly, and she burst into tears. She hit him on the shoulder.
“What were you thinking, going out into a swamp in the middle of the night? I’m surprised you didn’t get bitten by a cottonmouth or eaten by a crocodile.”
“Alligator,” corrected George quietly.
“You know what I meant,” she said, and hit him again. Neither blow had much force behind it.
“So I guess…I guess you were worried about me,” said George.
“Of course I was worried about you! You’re my father, you old coot!”
George laughed, and she laughed and started crying all over again.
Delphine hugged him fiercely. “I thought…I thought you might really be gone…for good this time…”
“I know, I know,” he said, patting her back.
She straightened up, wiped her eyes with a hankie he offered, and sniffed.
“Daddy, I want you to promise me, you and Jimmy will not go gallivanting out into the wild without a guide, or, at least, a dog.”
George smiled. “I promise.”
He didn’t say it out loud, but he didn’t think it was a promise he and Jimmy could keep.
Fucking bird.
Chapter 30
ATCHAFALAYA SWAMP, LOUISIANA
There was a nice bench out in front of the ranger station, and Jimmy and George sipped some excellent coffee. They had been able to shower, and the rangers had provided them with clean jumpsuits used by park volunteers.
Donny came out and wiggled in between them. He gazed up at Jimmy and smiled, and entwined his left arm in George’s right.
“How are you doin’, old man?” George asked.
“I’m not old, Granddaddy, I’m only eight.”
“Oh,” said George, “I thought you were older than me.”
Donny laughed, sounding, Jimmy thought, like any little boy.
“You’re really old, Granddaddy.”
“Humph,” George said, motioning to Jimmy. “Not as old as him.”
Donny looked at Jimmy. “Don’t look at me,” Jimmy said, “your grandfather’s the one who used to ride a dinosaur to work.”
That made Donny crack up, and even George found that funny. They laughed together, the three of them, there in the warm sun where the air smelled clean.
Donny said in a low voice, “I keep remembering stuff.”
“That will get easier,” George said, hoping it wasn’t a lie. “And you can always call me anytime.”
“Me, too,” Jimmy said.
“I think Trang and I will text and stuff,” Donny said.
“Hmmm…sounds like someone has a girlfriend. What do you think, Jimmy?”
“She is very pretty,” Jimmy said.
“I guess we’d better start planning the wedding,” George said.
“What? Are you crazy, Granddaddy?”
“I’m just sayin’,” George said.
“I’m not getting married for a hundred billion years,” Donny declared.
George and Jimmy nodded as if this was a wise decision.
“She is pretty, though,” said Donny, and the old men smiled.
—
All the parents of the missing children were contacted, including Ethan, whose parents were in Birmingham, Alabama. The only exception was Prue, who pleaded not to be returned to her stepfather. After talking with a woman from the Department of Children and Family Services, it was decided they would contact her grandmother in California.
It turned out the Camp Happy Time kids were all from the Toronto area, and their respective parents were flying down together.
Donny wanted to wait until Trang’s folks, Thanh and Linh Cao, arrived. Melissa and Trudy relented, although they also wanted to get far away from the Atchafalaya.
George and Jimmy made sure that the sheriffs, press, and all concerned knew that Trang had saved them all with her wits, courage, and keen sense of direction. Her parents and brothers were overjoyed and thanked George and Jimmy over and over again. When George told her father how she had found an escape route and guided them through the swamp, Thanh Cao beamed proudly and hugged her tight.
The adults stood off to the side while Trang said goodbye to her companions, now all going their separate ways. They all promised they would stay in touch, and Jimmy thought they might, for a while. But children were amazingly resilient, and he thought the trauma that united them would hopefully fade with time, and they would find their own, separate paths toward becoming young men and women.
Trang and Donny said goodbye last, and she hugged him fiercely. They both looked like it was breaking their hearts to separate, and Jimmy thought that friendship might have some staying power. Melissa and Trudy assured Donny they would visit the Caos in New Orleans, and they in turn assured Trang they would visit Donny and his mothers in Atlanta.
Once the Caos had left the ranger station, Melissa and Trudy told Donny it was time to go. Before they left, the remaining children hugged Donny, George, and Jimmy. One of the Happy Time Camp kids, who they learned was named Nathaniel Fukumoto, thanked them in flawless English on behalf of himself and his cousins.
—
Although everyone was anxious to get home, it was decided that the three former captives should have a day to catch up on their sleep, then they’d all share a celebratory meal at one of Port Allen’s better restaurants.
That night, Jeffrey’s Place gave them a private room and insisted that the meals for Donny, George, and Jimmy were on the house.
Richard led a toast to Donny, then George, and finally Jimmy.
“You all demonstrated remarkable courage and resilience,” he concluded. Everyone applauded and drank to the three of them.
Donny sipped his Shirley Temple. George had tried explaining to him who Shirley Temple was, and Donny had finally said, “It’s okay, Granddaddy, I get it.”
The boy had insisted on sitting next to George. Trudy, ever the good sport, sat on the other side of Melissa so that she could sit next to Donny.
Donny spoke up. “Uncle Richard, can I make a toast?”
Richard smiled. “Sure you can.”
Mimicking the adults, Donny stood up with his drink. “I want to thank everybody for this cool dinner and for looking for me so hard. I want to give a shout-out to my moms…”
Here everyone applauded, and Melissa wiped her eyes.
“And a special shout-out to my awesome granddaddy George Boudreaux Watters. I didn’t remember him all that well, but he came and he got me. Him and his friend Jimmy…”
Melissa stopped herself from correcting Donny’s grammar.
“…are the coolest old men I know. I love you, Granddaddy, and Mr. Kalmaku, I wish you were my granddaddy, too.”
George squeezed Donny’s hand, and Jimmy just smiled.
“To everybody!” Donny said, raising his glass.
“To everybody!” they all echoed, laughing and toasting.
Dessert and coffee came then, and the adults had gotten a special cake made for Donny, a chocolate cake with white icing, his favorite. Jimmy asked Donny if he might have an extra piece for a friend, and Donny grinned.
Once they were through with dessert, Martin stood this time and called Del
phine to join him.
“This has been a rough week, but thank the Lord, our Donny is back with us,” Martin said. “Delphine and I got to talking, and we realized Melissa, Trudy, and the boys have had a pretty terrible vacation.”
“You got that right,” Donny said, and George patted him on the back.
“We also felt the family was overdue for a reunion,” Delphine said, “a real reunion.” She looked directly at George.
“So I am proposing we all meet in Florida for a few days, date to be determined.”
“More swamps?” asked Donny, his good humor slipping a bit.
“How does Disney World sound?” Martin said, and Donny cheered.
“And Jimmy,” Delphine added, “we’d be very honored if you would come, along with your family.”
“You’re part of the family now,” Richard said, “like it or not.”
“I’m honored. We’ll be there.”
George looked at Jimmy. “If you think I’m going to call you ‘brother,’ Hiawatha, you can wait until the buffalo reclaim Seattle.”
Jimmy shook his head. “George, I think you bring enough bull for everyone.”
And they all drank to that while George tried his best to look annoyed.
Chapter 31
LAKE NISQUALLY, WASHINGTON
Jimmy and George returned to Washington state, and both of them luxuriated in the coolness of Seattle after the heat and humidity of Louisiana.
George, who had been born and raised in the South, realized that this had become his true home.
Jabbo greeted them at the door, then promptly turned tail and walked away. He snubbed them for two days, as cats will when their owners return from a trip, then demanded almost constant attention on the third day of their return.
Jimmy had brought the cake from Donny’s celebration dinner home in his carry-on. His first night home, he put it on a china plate with several shortbread cookies and three small peanut butter cups. He placed them on the rail of the front porch.
In the morning, all of it was gone, the plate just where he left it. Of course, he reminded himself, it could have been a dog or a possum that ate the sweets…
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