Kent Conwell - Tony Boudreaux 02 - Skeletons of the Atchafalaya Read Free

ear. “You know your pa was
coming?”
    I glanced at Leroi. “What do you think?”
    “They’re heading this way,” Giselle mumbled under her
breath.
    A.D., as usual, bellowed at the top of his lungs. His grin
broadened when he spotted us. “John. Over there. There’s
your boy.”
    The two of them jerked to a halt a few feet away. A.D.
swayed unsteadily. He was feeling no pain, and Pa was
drunk, which didn’t surprise me. Unable to focus his eyes,
he blinked at us and slurred his words. “Where? Which
one?”
    A.D. thought the question hilarious. He roared. “Why,
the light-complected one, naturally.” Behind him, Ozzy
sneered.
    Pa just stared. Obviously, he only had a few brain cells
remaining, and even they were probably suspect.

    I figured I ought to say something. “Hello, Pa.”
    He blinked again and grunted, never acknowledging me.
“Come on, A.D. I’m going to teach you how to play
poker.”
    “Sure you are, John.” A.D. winked at me. “You doing
anything now, Tony? Or you still just knocking around?”
He jammed a fat hand into his pocket and pulled out a wad
of bills held together by a money clip with the initials
A.D.T, Adolphus Doudou Thibodeaux, encrusted in diamonds. He waved it under my nose. “You come see me,
Tony, and I’ll show you how to make this kind of money.”
    I wanted to tell him what he could do with that wad of
bills, but I remembered my vow to be pleasant. I smiled.
“Thanks, A.D. I’ll keep that in mind.”
    He glanced at my feet. “Hey, good looking boots.”
    “Thanks.”
    He held out his foot. “Mine’s ostrich. Four hundred
bucks.”
    “Nice. Mine’s Australian saltwater crocodile. Five hundred bucks.” I had no idea where the alligator hide came
from, probably right here in the Atchafalaya, and they only
cost three hundred, but I could play the one-up game as
well as A.D.
    He cut his eyes at Leroi, and his thick lips twisted into
a sneer. With a grunt, he lurched forward, his bulk carrying
Pa along with him. They staggered up the dozen or so steps
to the veranda and disappeared through the open French
doors, but not before Pa called out loud enough for the
whole island to hear. “And don’t you do no cheating this
time, A.D. I’ll break your neck if you do.”
    The four of us looked at each other. “Uncle John didn’t
even say hi to you,” observed Leroi.
    I scratched my head. “Truth is, he probably didn’t even
recognize me.”
    We all laughed.
    “Things don’t change much,” Sally said.
    Giselle replied, her voice a mere whisper. “No, they don’t. They never do in this family.” She nudged me with
her elbow. “Look, there’s your mother.”

    Mom and Grandma Ola were sitting in white wicker
chairs up on the broad veranda, sipping lemonade and becoming reacquainted with the family. “Excuse me, folks,”
I said to my cousins. “I want to say hi.”
    Mom wore her usual blue gingham dress with a narrow
matching belt. She had not gained a pound for the last forty
years. Grandma Ola was half a head shorter, a roly-poly
ball of laughter and naughtiness with a penchant for gossip.
    I took the steps two at a time. Mom hugged me and
wiped the tears from her eyes as I hugged Grandma. “You
see your father?” Mom asked.
    “Barely,” I replied.
    In her next breath, she dropped a bombshell on me. “He
wants to come home. He wants us to take him back.”
    Grandma Ola sniffed. “I tell your mother she is crazy to
even think such a thing.”
    Ignoring Grandma Ola, Mom looked up at me, a tiny
frown wrinkling her forehead. “What you think, Tony?”
    Words failed me. No, words didn’t fail me. My brain
failed me. It was blank. Pa? My pa? That drunken, lying
thief? There was no way I wanted him around, but before
I could utter a single word, Aunt Marie Venable swept
down on us like a hawk. “Leota. You look wonderful,
Cher.”
    Mom rolled her eyes. I nodded, reluctantly disengaging
myself from the debate