Family Tradition

And then she was gone.

Was…that…REAL? Sheree wondered. She blinked hard, sucked in deep, deep breaths. It seemed real. But—

At the same moment, slightly louder yet slower noises drifted toward her. It was now perplexion that paralyzed more than fear.

Another shape drifted from the darkness.

A shining brown man, with a belly sticking out like a soccer ball. He walked as if palsied, skinny legs struggling to support the disproportionate weight of the abdomen, and he, too, was naked. And—

WHEW! Sheree thought.

If this was a hallucination, it was a damn stinky one. This brown man smelled worse than a sewer. Oddly, only his face was white—blanched white—like the skin of the girl who’d just jogged by. The rest of his body seemed smeared with…

Is it…shit? Sheree wondered.

It was a shit-covered man!

He stopped in his tracks at Sheree’s presence. He looked right at her.

“Brab-nab-lee-gab,” he said.

Then he hobbled away.

Sheree silently stared after him.

When Carol grabbed her arm, Sheree almost screamed out loud. “Did I just hear a voice out here?” Carol asked.

“Uh…”

“Sheree? What’s wrong? You look like you just saw a ghost.”

Sheree slowly shook her head. “You don’t want to know what I just saw.”

“Not the redneck’s brother!” came Carol’s fierce whisper.

“No. No, I don’t think so.”

“What, then?”

Sheree steeled herself for what she was about to let pass her lips. “I saw a naked skinny girl who said there was a fish in her vagina.”

Carol gawped back.

“Then,” Sheree continued, “I saw…a shit-covered man.”

“A shit-covered man?”

“Yes. Yes.”

Carol’s bulging breasts jiggled beneath her tight top as she chuckled. “Wow, I guess the acid was stronger than I thought.”

“It’s not the acid,” Sheree declared. “I really did see it.”

Carol could barely contain her laughter. “A girl with a fish in her pussy and a shit- covered man? Oh, Sheree, that’s rich!”

“But, but, but—”

“You’re fucked up,” Carol insisted and grabbed her arm. “Come on. I need to show you this.”

— | — | —

Chapter Ten

Not one, not two, not three—

It was four 20-gallon coolers Ashton and Bob brought back to the Winnebago.

Coolers full of big fat live jumpin’ Crackjaw eel. Some of them were a yard long and over five pounds apiece; they could be easily cleaned, fileted, vacuumed-packed and frozen for import to Japan at five dollars per six-ounce portion. What they’d caught in a few hours, in other words, equated to thousands.

Just in a few hours.

“We’re gonna buy this fuckin’ lake,” Ashton said. “Or make some kind of deal with those crackers. This lake might as well be full of gold.”

But Bob wasn’t paying much attention. He was looking out the Winnebago’s small window. “I’m worried. It’s almost midnight. Where are the girls?”

“They’re probably out walking in the woods somewhere,” Ashton suggested. “Probably talking girl-talk.” Ashton pulled open the fridge. “Beer?”

“Naw, no thanks.” Bob glanced seriously at his brother. “Ashton, I’m really worried—”

“Well stop worrying, and have a beer.” Ashton thrust a Holsten into his brother’s hand. Then he huffed and puffed, dragging the one of the coolers of eel toward the auxiliary refrigerator in the back of the vehicle.

“Hey, Ashton, I think they went over to the island.”

Ashton frowned. “What?”

“The girls. They must’ve gone over to the island. ’Cos that cable-boat thing isn’t at the pier on this side. It’s over there.”

“So? They’re going for a nature walk.” Ashton giggled. “Maybe they’re making whoopie.”

Bob’s lips pursed as if he’d just sucked a lemon wedge. “It’s too late for them to be walking around this place. I’m taking the boat over.”

Ashton grinned wide. “Hey, they’re consenting adults, and if Carol’s cock is as big as you say, I think Sheree’s pussy might have some interest in it.”

Bob wasn’t digging this avenue of the conversation. “You coming?”

“I’ve got to load all this eel into the fridge. Gotta keep these puppies cool.”

“Fine.”

“Hey, what are you all pissed about? I don’t give a shit what Sheree does. If Carol’s fucking her brains out in the woods, that’s cool with me.”

“Well, it’s not cool with me,” Bob sniped. “And that’s not what’s happening anyway.”

Ashton raised a bushy brow. “Relax, will you? They’ll be back any minute.”

Bob, his face slightly pinkened now, grabbed his beer and stormed out of the RV. Moments later, Ashton heard the SeaRay’s motor start up; then the boat chugged across the lake, its spotlight beaming ahead.

He needs to lighten up, Ashton thought, hoisting the first cooler into the back fridge.

««—»»

“Dang it, boy!” Enoch bellowed in the oil-lamp-lit cooking shack. He smacked his brother hard on the back of the head as Esau was trying to rinse his eyes from the water pump.

“I’se sorry, Enoch!” the younger one pleaded. “He bushwhacked me!”

“What? A kid who’s been tied up in a tub’a shit fer the last month? And that skinny l’il twig of a girl?”

“The fella threw shit in my eyes, Enoch! It burns! I couldn’t see fer awhiles!”

Enoch smacked Esau in the back of the head again. “Quit’cher whinin’, boy. Git on yer feet. We gotta fetch ’em both back. If Grandpa Ab finds out about this, there’ll be some high and might hell ta pay, and you’ll be the one payin’ it.”

“Eeee-OOOW!” Esau shrieked when Enoch grabbed him by the hair, twisted hard, and pulled him up from the pump. He dragged him back outside, into the night.

“And I’ll tell ya somethin’ else, ya dumb-ass,” Enoch added. “Them two rich bitches you was talkin’ ’bout, I