The Swamp Read Free Page B

farther away, as if the sea was expanding, pushing the lands apart. Hank Williams continued:
     
    ‘I’ve never seen a night so long
when time goes crawling by
the moon just went behind a cloud
to hide its face and cry’
     
    By now the figures were just specks, and still the melody haunted him:
     
    ‘Did you ever see a robin weep?
    When leaves began to die,
    Like me he’s lost the will to live
    I’m so lonesome I could die’
     
    The mainland faded to a thin ribbon on the horizon and finally disappeared.
     
    ‘The silence of a falling star
Lights up a purple sky
and as I wonder where you are
I’m so lonesome I could cry’
     
    As Hank sang the last word, Sam bolted up in bed, covered in a cold sweat that couldn’t be explained by the unusually cool morning. The dream had definitely shaken him and further made him doubt his sanity. The meaning of the dream was obvious. The solitude of the swamp was wearing on him. He knew he would eventually have to move on, but he couldn’t imagine leaving before he knew.
                  Glancing at the alarm clock, he saw that it was only 3 am, but there was no chance of getting back to sleep. He briefly thought of all the medications stockpiled down the shed, he was sure he could find something that would help him sleep. But he had decided long ago not to take anything that could hinder his wits until someone else arrived, this included drugs and alcohol.
                  He stared at the ceiling, feeling sorry for himself and trying to get some more sleep. After what felt like several hours, he decided to just get up and find something to do. He stood at the windows of the tower, looking out at the starry sky. He had to give the swamp some points for its amazing night time displays. He had never seen stars like this, on a clear night the sky was a fabric of light. Completely different from the dots he got in the city.
                  He worked his way down the stairs, and looked around the compound. One thing that hadn’t changed from his former life was the number of half-finished projects he always managed to leave in various states of completeness. The poor light prevented most of his options, so he opted for a good book by candle light until he saw the sun crest the horizon and set fire to the sky, he put away his book and enjoyed the sunrise for a little while.
     
     
    The rest of the morning was spent tinkering with the small Duromax generator. If he could get that running, and it wasn’t too loud, the house could be cooled, the showers could be warm and easy hot meals would not be an idle dream. The books he had borrowed from the library made absolutely no sense. He had never had the mechanical knack required to do anything except make little problems much bigger and today was proving to be no exception. The only way this surprised him was the length of time it took him to get so frustrated that he ended up slinging a tool across the yard. The pliers made a satisfying clang as the bounced off the tree stand leaning against the towers leg. The noise was the exclamation point to a long string of profanity that had been served up in fits and starts for the last half hour of frustrated attempts to understand ‘The idiots guide to small engine repair.’
                  As with most days, the afternoon was spent trying to stay cool. The house had a small covered area that was a tolerable place to be, shady and cool. It was here that he spent his afternoons reading, todays choice was about small engine repair, with the aim being to get a generator running. It’s amazing how hope adapts itself. There was a time when Sam hoped for a better job, a nicer car, a bigger house, but now his wet dreams were ceiling fans and air conditioners. Florida was not a place to be outside in the summer, the highs were around 100, and at night it got down to 75, with humidity firmly stuck at 90% at least.