swamps, back of Old Woods. Nobody don't go in there too far,
but they're some folks hid up there, leastwise they used to be.
They're supposed to be pretty bad too, cut your throat and cook you
up for dinner, that kind of thing, or worse. I don't know, but I
tell you: nobody goes up there for a picnic. Now, Useless always
seemed okay to me, but they say he had swamp blood in him. I don't
know, I think he was just another oyster shucker. He—“
"They kill people up there?" Ned was more
interested in hearing about the swamp people than Useless Boggs
now. "Today? They still do that?"
Cloudy laughed.
"Oh, I bet if you was to go up through the
Old Woods now you'd find the swamps all drained out and a bunch of
white folks beatin' up golf balls and drinkin' cocktails instead.
That's what I think. Probably ain't no more swamps there nowadays,
and no swamp folks neither. I expect they're long gone in this
world."
"Really?" Ned's disappointment was
obvious.
While the boy's mind filled with images of
the dread swamp people and the terrible things they got up to,
Cloudy stood up, placed the impossible clock on the ground and
stomped it to pieces. Enough is enough.
"On second thought," he addressed Ned, "I
probably wouldn't go pokin' around up there Old Woods way. Just in
case I was wrong, you know, and them swampers was still hangin'
around .... "
* * *
6. The Farley Place
(1)
What's the purpose of this little
expedition, Michael wondered as he set off down the street. To put
Linda's mind at ease, he hoped. An exercise in reassurance, that's
all. Besides, it wouldn't do any harm for him to meet either or
both of the two old-timers who had befriended his son. In fact, it
was probably a good idea if he did. Not that he expected anything
special to come of such a meeting. Michael was sure he would find
out what he already knew, namely that these men were a pair of
harmless old coots who entertained Ned with their fishing talk and
country ways. Ned was most likely the only person around who would
bother to listen to them.
That suited Michael just fine. In time,
certainly when he settled into his new school in the autumn, Ned
would make friends his own age and lose interest in the old men.
Linda was always trying to steer Ned, to guide him this way or
that, and Michael knew there was a danger of overdoing it. His job
was to make sure a proper balance was maintained. Right now the
important thing was to remember that only very recently Ned had
been thrown into a completely new environment, different in every
way from what the boy had known for the first nine and a half years
of his life. Michael and Linda were there to help him land on his
feet, which he seemed to be doing very well, but they would have to
do it as unobtrusively as possible. Let Ned adjust to his new
surroundings in his own way and at his own pace. These early weeks
and months might be a difficult period for him, and they had to
provide love and support as they were called for, but too much
parental interference wouldn't help at all. Linda knows all this,
Michael reflected, but she has a harder time restraining
herself.
It was a shame, really, because all three of
them should be getting the most out of their new life. Michael had
waited patiently and worked hard for the day when he could buy the
right house on a decent-size piece of land, and now that he had
finally achieved that goal, he was determined to enjoy it to the
utmost. He wasn't about to cheat himself of the experience, and
anyway, he was sure it was the best thing he could do for Linda and
Ned. Michael had been married to Linda long enough to know that it
would take her, not Ned, longest to settle in and relax. She
couldn't be jollied along or nudged, but the more she saw of a
full, happy transition in her husband and son, the more she would
come to feel at ease.
As for Ned, all the evidence so far seemed
to indicate that he was having no problems at all. He sometimes had
that funny,
but they're some folks hid up there, leastwise they used to be.
They're supposed to be pretty bad too, cut your throat and cook you
up for dinner, that kind of thing, or worse. I don't know, but I
tell you: nobody goes up there for a picnic. Now, Useless always
seemed okay to me, but they say he had swamp blood in him. I don't
know, I think he was just another oyster shucker. He—“
"They kill people up there?" Ned was more
interested in hearing about the swamp people than Useless Boggs
now. "Today? They still do that?"
Cloudy laughed.
"Oh, I bet if you was to go up through the
Old Woods now you'd find the swamps all drained out and a bunch of
white folks beatin' up golf balls and drinkin' cocktails instead.
That's what I think. Probably ain't no more swamps there nowadays,
and no swamp folks neither. I expect they're long gone in this
world."
"Really?" Ned's disappointment was
obvious.
While the boy's mind filled with images of
the dread swamp people and the terrible things they got up to,
Cloudy stood up, placed the impossible clock on the ground and
stomped it to pieces. Enough is enough.
"On second thought," he addressed Ned, "I
probably wouldn't go pokin' around up there Old Woods way. Just in
case I was wrong, you know, and them swampers was still hangin'
around .... "
* * *
6. The Farley Place
(1)
What's the purpose of this little
expedition, Michael wondered as he set off down the street. To put
Linda's mind at ease, he hoped. An exercise in reassurance, that's
all. Besides, it wouldn't do any harm for him to meet either or
both of the two old-timers who had befriended his son. In fact, it
was probably a good idea if he did. Not that he expected anything
special to come of such a meeting. Michael was sure he would find
out what he already knew, namely that these men were a pair of
harmless old coots who entertained Ned with their fishing talk and
country ways. Ned was most likely the only person around who would
bother to listen to them.
That suited Michael just fine. In time,
certainly when he settled into his new school in the autumn, Ned
would make friends his own age and lose interest in the old men.
Linda was always trying to steer Ned, to guide him this way or
that, and Michael knew there was a danger of overdoing it. His job
was to make sure a proper balance was maintained. Right now the
important thing was to remember that only very recently Ned had
been thrown into a completely new environment, different in every
way from what the boy had known for the first nine and a half years
of his life. Michael and Linda were there to help him land on his
feet, which he seemed to be doing very well, but they would have to
do it as unobtrusively as possible. Let Ned adjust to his new
surroundings in his own way and at his own pace. These early weeks
and months might be a difficult period for him, and they had to
provide love and support as they were called for, but too much
parental interference wouldn't help at all. Linda knows all this,
Michael reflected, but she has a harder time restraining
herself.
It was a shame, really, because all three of
them should be getting the most out of their new life. Michael had
waited patiently and worked hard for the day when he could buy the
right house on a decent-size piece of land, and now that he had
finally achieved that goal, he was determined to enjoy it to the
utmost. He wasn't about to cheat himself of the experience, and
anyway, he was sure it was the best thing he could do for Linda and
Ned. Michael had been married to Linda long enough to know that it
would take her, not Ned, longest to settle in and relax. She
couldn't be jollied along or nudged, but the more she saw of a
full, happy transition in her husband and son, the more she would
come to feel at ease.
As for Ned, all the evidence so far seemed
to indicate that he was having no problems at all. He sometimes had
that funny,
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