'Pearl, I've been frantic, searching for you. What are you doing in that canoe? And why are you dressed in a . . . a sack?'
Instead of answering, I started to cry. He moved quickly to get me safely into his dinghy.
'Look at you; look at your hands. What happened?'
'Oh, Jack,' I said, 'Buster Trahaw . . . tricked me into going with him. He took me to a shack, where he chained me up and said I was his wife. I escaped, but he came after me. Then he drowned or was eaten by alligators, and . . .' I was too exhausted to continue.
He started the motor, and we were off.
I looked back once at the pirogue bobbing in the swamp water. It had taken me to hell and back.
15
Eye of the Storm
When we arrived at the dock, Jack helped me out of the dinghy. My legs wobbled, and I had to lean against him for a moment. The full impact of what had happened to me and what I had gone through hit me the moment I set foot on safe soil. The rain had started again, too, but the two of us barely noticed. Jack scooped me up into his strong arms, lifting me like a baby.
'Jack, you don't have to carry me,' I protested.
'I got grease cans that weigh more than you,' he said, smiling. It did seem effortless for him to march up the pathway with me in his arms. He carried me all the way to his trailer. I realized that both of us were soaked to the skin—me especially, in the poor excuse for a dress Buster had forced me to wear. Some of the other riggers came running over to see what had happened, but Jack didn't stop to explain. He didn't put me down until we were inside.
'At least you can take a hot shower here. Get that sack off your body. I'll find something for you to wear.
Then we'll call the police and tell them what happened.'
'I'd better call home, too, and see how Daddy's doing,' I said, wiping the matted hair from my forehead and eyes. A small puddle had formed at my feet. 'I'm making a mess.'
'Don't worry.'
Jack saw the welts on my legs that had resulted from Buster's whipping me with his leather belt.
'Maybe I should get you to a doctor or a
'It's all right. The skin wasn't broken. I'll put some ice on the bumps afterward.'
'I forgot,' he said smiling. 'You're on your way to becoming a doctor. Comes in handy having you around.'
I felt so dirty after what I had been through that I stayed in the shower until Jack knocked on the door to see if I was all right.
'Pearl!'
'I'm okay,' I cried. I just stood there enjoying the warm water in my hair. I heard him open the door.
'I'll leave the clothing here,' he shouted. I turned off the water and pulled back the curtain to peer out. He had given me a pair of his dungarees, one of his plaid shirts, and a pair of his slippers and socks.
'You can keep the pants on with this piece of rope,' he said when I laughed. 'I'm sorry I don't have any skirts.'
'It'll do for now. Thanks.'
'You okay?'
'I am now,' I said.
He beamed. 'I made some hot tea, and I've got biscuits and jam waiting.'
'Thanks, Jack.'
After I dried myself and put on his clothes, I wrapped the towel around my hair. He looked up from the stove when I emerged.
'I feel like a new person, especially in these clothes,' I said. I had rolled up the legs on the dungarees to make them shorter, but they were still much too large for me, as was Jack's shirt. 'I guess I'm a pretty funny sight, huh?'
'You look great to me. Never knew my clothes would look that good on anyone.' He smiled and then his smile turned quickly into a stern expression. 'Now sit yourself down,' he said, pointing to the chair.
His anger took me by surprise, and I sat down quickly. 'What's wrong?'
He folded his arms across his chest and straightened his shoulders.
'How dare you go off with someone like that and just leave me a note? Do you know I came this close,' he said, pinching his thumb and forefinger together, 'to missing it? And when I read the name Trahaw, I almost had heart failure. I still can't believe you went into the swamp with that low-life scum.'
'Jack, he said he knew where my mother was so . . .'
