The Curse of 'Gator Bayou
Viewing comments for Chapter 3 "Chapter 3 Leaving the Bayou"A young Cajun girl struggles to survive.
6 total reviews
Comment from Gladness
Good writing here, sis. The setting is authentic sounding. You describe the living situation well and the beauty of the bayou. I had to wonder, though, if anyone could "love" mosquitoes. Ha ha.
You have also done a good job of showing the personalities of Marie and Mrs. Terrebonne. Didn't find any typos :)
Anita
P.S. Don't know if I already sent this, my computer froze up just when I tried.
reply by the author on 25-Feb-2013
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Good writing here, sis. The setting is authentic sounding. You describe the living situation well and the beauty of the bayou. I had to wonder, though, if anyone could "love" mosquitoes. Ha ha.
You have also done a good job of showing the personalities of Marie and Mrs. Terrebonne. Didn't find any typos :)
Anita
P.S. Don't know if I already sent this, my computer froze up just when I tried.
Comment Written 23-Feb-2013
reply by the author on 25-Feb-2013
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Thanks Anita for your encouragement and review of my work. I am so glad you are enjoying the story.
Comment from adewpearl
excellent detail of setting
excellent use of dialogue and vernacular speech
went out looking for gators, but - I added the comma
herself with no job skills, but - add comma
Yeller, come see - add comma for direct address
Nodding, Mrs T went - add comma
On mama, I love - add comma
I love you, mama - add comma
great emotion and character development of people I like a lot just from one chapter - you have me rooting for them
Brooke
reply by the author on 22-Feb-2013
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excellent detail of setting
excellent use of dialogue and vernacular speech
went out looking for gators, but - I added the comma
herself with no job skills, but - add comma
Yeller, come see - add comma for direct address
Nodding, Mrs T went - add comma
On mama, I love - add comma
I love you, mama - add comma
great emotion and character development of people I like a lot just from one chapter - you have me rooting for them
Brooke
Comment Written 22-Feb-2013
reply by the author on 22-Feb-2013
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Thank you Brooke for catching all my commas. I've made a copy of your comments and will go back and correct. I really appreciate your help and input. Glad you enjoyed the read.
Comment from LaDonnaCole
Previously Marie confessed to stabbing her step-daddy to death after he attached (attacked) her little sister and then herself. The story will continue with Marie leaving the bayou to find work in New Orleans.
April had come with its rains and now it was hot humid June again. Marie had been up since before daylight this morning on the bayou with Armon trying to catch their supper. She had plenty of time to think while the hot sun beamed down on their bare heads. Marie loved everything about the bayou. The way the mosses hung from the old cypress trees, the wild azaleas purple, pink, and white blooming in early spring, the sounds of the bull frogs at night; even the mosquitoes. It was her home.
"Armon, see dare a big one, cotch (catch) him!" Marie yelled to her brother as a huge green frog jumped from the marsh grass to shore. She paddled her pirogue to the bank expertly and Armon jumped ashore.
"Caught dat booger!" Armon exclaimed with glee. "Coooh (expression of astonishment) luk at da size o dat frog."
"Bon (good), dat makes us tree (three) frogs, two Redfish, dat trap full of ecrevisse (crawfish) and one old sorry snake. Mais, (well) we will eat good tonight." Marie smiled at her brother. "You did bon my frerot (little brother).
It had been almost a year since the Sheriff had visited the Terrebonnes' cabin and they had not heard any news of the case. He had sent his deputy to check on them three times and 'see if they needed anything.' Of course her mama had told him each time, 'they were fine.' Bayou people sometimes were just too independent and proud for their own good. Marie knew things were getting desperate. They had been surviving off the fish, shrimp, small gators and other small game that Marie could catch or shoot. She thought if she could hunt for the big gator's she would be able to bring in enough money for sugar, flour, coffee and the other things most of which had ration cards now since the war began. Armon, her ten year old brother had tried to help her the one time they went out looking for the big gators but he was not strong enough yet to help her very much. This was not going to be the solution. Even with all these worries Marie was the happiest she could ever remember since Mr. Terrebonne wasn't around to torture them anymore. In fact, she had seen with her own eyes the younger children becoming more playful. They weren't so afraid any more. Even mama walked a little less stooped. Fear does that to people. And the Lord knows Mr. Terrebonne had been a monster. Now the monster was gone and it was up to her to see that her mama didn't have to sell her soul to another one to keep them all alive. (This is deep, deep point of view! NICE job!)
She had turned seventeen in October. It was time for her to strike out on her own. There wasn't any money to be made here in Houma for a girl like herself with no job skills but with the war still going on and all the men folk off fighting she knew she could probably find work in New Orleans. She would get a job and send money back to mama. But how was she going to get to New Orleans...she had never even been out of LaFourche parish?
The sun was already setting and dark shadows forming in the cypress groves when Marie headed home from the bayou. She could see her mama had already lit the coal oil lamp for them.
"Come see." Marie yelled as she and Armon pulled the pirogue to the marshy bank.
Sally and her old yellow dog she called Yeller scrambled out from under the porch. The two younger boys were nowhere to be found. Most likely still in the swamp play fighting or some other boyish pastime. Sally was covered from head to toe with dust and dirt from the porch.
"Mais, whatcha have in da bucket, Marie?" Sally squealed with delight reaching to see what had been caught.
"Oh, somthin bon to eat...you dobber peu de salete (little dirt dobber)." Marie picked her up around the waist and twirled her around.
Sally squealed even louder with delight and squirmed loose from Marie's grasp. "Yeller come see." Sally called. The old dog slowly crept up to the crawfish bucket and peered inside; scratched himself and strolled back to the porch.
Ms. Terrebonne sat on the front porch in an old rocker cutting okra that she had picked that morning from her garden. She would put the okra and some tomatoes into a gumbo with whatever the children had caught or trapped today. "Marie and Armon, you did bon."
Later after supper when the children had been put to bed, Marie decided it was time to speak with her mama about leaving. "Mama, I need to talk with you."
Nodding Ms. Terrebonne went out onto the porch and sat down in her rocker and retrieved an old pipe from her apron pocket. Marie recognized it as her papa's. Marie followed her and sat down on the step. Marie watched her mama taking small drags from the pipe as the smoke twirled up toward the sky. The smell brought back memories of her papa sitting on the porch on summer's nights smoking his pipe and holding her in his lap. She missed everything about him. She had been so young when he died but she could still remember his strong arms, his laughter, and his love for her. The wind off the bayou brought other familiar smells and sounds that only the swamp could create. She didn't know how she could stand to leave this place. The night was cooler and felt so good after the hot day.
"Mama, I need to talk with you about leaving." Marie began.
Mrs. Terrebonne just kept smoking and staring out into the blackness of the bayou. Then she stopped and put her pipe down. "When ya goin' and where?"
"I thaught (thought) I'd go to New Orleans and git a job and send home som money to holp you and the kids out."
"You aint' got no money to go nowhare..."
"I'll be okay; I know how to take care of myself...mama."
"I guess ifns I can't change yor id©e (not sure what that means) I'll give you my blessing." Mrs. Terrebonne got up from her rocker and headed into the cabin. Shortly she returned with a Prince Albert tin and handed it to Marie. "Dis is da weddin' band dat yor papa gave me on da day we got married. You take it and sell it. It won't brang much money but it wills holp."
"Oh mama I love you so much." Marie got up from the steps and hugged her mama. "I'll take papa's ring but I will never be able to sell it, I promise." I'll leave in da mornin'."
Morning came with cloudy skies and the look of rain. Marie had not slept much. She was excited about leaving and scared, too. She had packed her meager belongings into a burlap hog feed sack the night before and had hoped to get off before all the children woke up. She didn't think she could face saying goodbye. Of course, her mama had already gotten up and made coffee and biscuits.
"You need to eat, Marie...I hav you somethin' to eat for later. " Mrs. Terrebonne said.
"Thanks mama." Marie peeked into the small flour sack and saw that her mother had lovingly wrapped Boudin Rouge and corn pone in newspapers for her trip.
"I see you wearin' the dress I made fer you last summer. Yous so tiny it only tak two flour sacks. It's real pretty; the blue flowers mak yor eyes shine. You gonna need som shoes to wear with dat dress." Mrs. Terrebonne walked into her bedroom and reached under the bed and grabbed a worn pair of heavy men's boots.
"Mama, I can't take Mr. Terrebonne's boots." Marie was a little taken aback.
"Dat's okay, he don' need dem anymore." Mrs. Terrebonne said in a mater-of-fact way. "You got to hav shoes when you git to New Orleans. I don' want no peoples tinking you just poor swamp trash."
"Okay, mama I'll take dem." Marie tied the laces in a knot and slung them over her shoulder with the burlap bag. "I got to go...I love you mama...I will send you som money soon." Marie hugged her mama and headed down to her pirogue.
"It look lik rain..." Mrs. Terrebonne took her pipe out of her pocket and headed back inside the cabin.
(I stumbled a bit on the accents. It slowed me down in the story, but it was very authentic. I have had several deep south Louisiana friends and it sounded just like them. Thanks for sharing!)
reply by the author on 21-Feb-2013
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Previously Marie confessed to stabbing her step-daddy to death after he attached (attacked) her little sister and then herself. The story will continue with Marie leaving the bayou to find work in New Orleans.
April had come with its rains and now it was hot humid June again. Marie had been up since before daylight this morning on the bayou with Armon trying to catch their supper. She had plenty of time to think while the hot sun beamed down on their bare heads. Marie loved everything about the bayou. The way the mosses hung from the old cypress trees, the wild azaleas purple, pink, and white blooming in early spring, the sounds of the bull frogs at night; even the mosquitoes. It was her home.
"Armon, see dare a big one, cotch (catch) him!" Marie yelled to her brother as a huge green frog jumped from the marsh grass to shore. She paddled her pirogue to the bank expertly and Armon jumped ashore.
"Caught dat booger!" Armon exclaimed with glee. "Coooh (expression of astonishment) luk at da size o dat frog."
"Bon (good), dat makes us tree (three) frogs, two Redfish, dat trap full of ecrevisse (crawfish) and one old sorry snake. Mais, (well) we will eat good tonight." Marie smiled at her brother. "You did bon my frerot (little brother).
It had been almost a year since the Sheriff had visited the Terrebonnes' cabin and they had not heard any news of the case. He had sent his deputy to check on them three times and 'see if they needed anything.' Of course her mama had told him each time, 'they were fine.' Bayou people sometimes were just too independent and proud for their own good. Marie knew things were getting desperate. They had been surviving off the fish, shrimp, small gators and other small game that Marie could catch or shoot. She thought if she could hunt for the big gator's she would be able to bring in enough money for sugar, flour, coffee and the other things most of which had ration cards now since the war began. Armon, her ten year old brother had tried to help her the one time they went out looking for the big gators but he was not strong enough yet to help her very much. This was not going to be the solution. Even with all these worries Marie was the happiest she could ever remember since Mr. Terrebonne wasn't around to torture them anymore. In fact, she had seen with her own eyes the younger children becoming more playful. They weren't so afraid any more. Even mama walked a little less stooped. Fear does that to people. And the Lord knows Mr. Terrebonne had been a monster. Now the monster was gone and it was up to her to see that her mama didn't have to sell her soul to another one to keep them all alive. (This is deep, deep point of view! NICE job!)
She had turned seventeen in October. It was time for her to strike out on her own. There wasn't any money to be made here in Houma for a girl like herself with no job skills but with the war still going on and all the men folk off fighting she knew she could probably find work in New Orleans. She would get a job and send money back to mama. But how was she going to get to New Orleans...she had never even been out of LaFourche parish?
The sun was already setting and dark shadows forming in the cypress groves when Marie headed home from the bayou. She could see her mama had already lit the coal oil lamp for them.
"Come see." Marie yelled as she and Armon pulled the pirogue to the marshy bank.
Sally and her old yellow dog she called Yeller scrambled out from under the porch. The two younger boys were nowhere to be found. Most likely still in the swamp play fighting or some other boyish pastime. Sally was covered from head to toe with dust and dirt from the porch.
"Mais, whatcha have in da bucket, Marie?" Sally squealed with delight reaching to see what had been caught.
"Oh, somthin bon to eat...you dobber peu de salete (little dirt dobber)." Marie picked her up around the waist and twirled her around.
Sally squealed even louder with delight and squirmed loose from Marie's grasp. "Yeller come see." Sally called. The old dog slowly crept up to the crawfish bucket and peered inside; scratched himself and strolled back to the porch.
Ms. Terrebonne sat on the front porch in an old rocker cutting okra that she had picked that morning from her garden. She would put the okra and some tomatoes into a gumbo with whatever the children had caught or trapped today. "Marie and Armon, you did bon."
Later after supper when the children had been put to bed, Marie decided it was time to speak with her mama about leaving. "Mama, I need to talk with you."
Nodding Ms. Terrebonne went out onto the porch and sat down in her rocker and retrieved an old pipe from her apron pocket. Marie recognized it as her papa's. Marie followed her and sat down on the step. Marie watched her mama taking small drags from the pipe as the smoke twirled up toward the sky. The smell brought back memories of her papa sitting on the porch on summer's nights smoking his pipe and holding her in his lap. She missed everything about him. She had been so young when he died but she could still remember his strong arms, his laughter, and his love for her. The wind off the bayou brought other familiar smells and sounds that only the swamp could create. She didn't know how she could stand to leave this place. The night was cooler and felt so good after the hot day.
"Mama, I need to talk with you about leaving." Marie began.
Mrs. Terrebonne just kept smoking and staring out into the blackness of the bayou. Then she stopped and put her pipe down. "When ya goin' and where?"
"I thaught (thought) I'd go to New Orleans and git a job and send home som money to holp you and the kids out."
"You aint' got no money to go nowhare..."
"I'll be okay; I know how to take care of myself...mama."
"I guess ifns I can't change yor id©e (not sure what that means) I'll give you my blessing." Mrs. Terrebonne got up from her rocker and headed into the cabin. Shortly she returned with a Prince Albert tin and handed it to Marie. "Dis is da weddin' band dat yor papa gave me on da day we got married. You take it and sell it. It won't brang much money but it wills holp."
"Oh mama I love you so much." Marie got up from the steps and hugged her mama. "I'll take papa's ring but I will never be able to sell it, I promise." I'll leave in da mornin'."
Morning came with cloudy skies and the look of rain. Marie had not slept much. She was excited about leaving and scared, too. She had packed her meager belongings into a burlap hog feed sack the night before and had hoped to get off before all the children woke up. She didn't think she could face saying goodbye. Of course, her mama had already gotten up and made coffee and biscuits.
"You need to eat, Marie...I hav you somethin' to eat for later. " Mrs. Terrebonne said.
"Thanks mama." Marie peeked into the small flour sack and saw that her mother had lovingly wrapped Boudin Rouge and corn pone in newspapers for her trip.
"I see you wearin' the dress I made fer you last summer. Yous so tiny it only tak two flour sacks. It's real pretty; the blue flowers mak yor eyes shine. You gonna need som shoes to wear with dat dress." Mrs. Terrebonne walked into her bedroom and reached under the bed and grabbed a worn pair of heavy men's boots.
"Mama, I can't take Mr. Terrebonne's boots." Marie was a little taken aback.
"Dat's okay, he don' need dem anymore." Mrs. Terrebonne said in a mater-of-fact way. "You got to hav shoes when you git to New Orleans. I don' want no peoples tinking you just poor swamp trash."
"Okay, mama I'll take dem." Marie tied the laces in a knot and slung them over her shoulder with the burlap bag. "I got to go...I love you mama...I will send you som money soon." Marie hugged her mama and headed down to her pirogue.
"It look lik rain..." Mrs. Terrebonne took her pipe out of her pocket and headed back inside the cabin.
(I stumbled a bit on the accents. It slowed me down in the story, but it was very authentic. I have had several deep south Louisiana friends and it sounded just like them. Thanks for sharing!)
Comment Written 21-Feb-2013
reply by the author on 21-Feb-2013
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Thank you LaDonna for "wading" through my accents to get to the meaning of my story. The mother is saying basically if she can't change her idea (of leaving)... The next chapters get a lot easier to read since most of the French/Cajun is left out. I am glad you reviewed my work and hope you will continue reading.
Jo
Comment from Linda Lee
Content wise, this is good. It's forward moving, described well and takes you inside their world. Punctuation wise, I also don't see any issues.
The dialect is the only area that you may want to consider tweaking. And I say this only if you are interested in commercial endeavors with this piece of work. As someone who has been dealing with a quirky dialect over several novels, I can attest to the amount of editing I've been required to do at agent/editors request.
Here's what they've told me so often it's like a broken record: Written dialect at best, should flavor the read, not overtake it. Being authentic should not be a consideration over reader comprehension. The goal is to create only the essence of idiom, so readers get a taste, but don't have to be from the region in order to clearly understand.
I hope that advice will be of some assistance to you too. Good luck!
reply by the author on 21-Feb-2013
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Content wise, this is good. It's forward moving, described well and takes you inside their world. Punctuation wise, I also don't see any issues.
The dialect is the only area that you may want to consider tweaking. And I say this only if you are interested in commercial endeavors with this piece of work. As someone who has been dealing with a quirky dialect over several novels, I can attest to the amount of editing I've been required to do at agent/editors request.
Here's what they've told me so often it's like a broken record: Written dialect at best, should flavor the read, not overtake it. Being authentic should not be a consideration over reader comprehension. The goal is to create only the essence of idiom, so readers get a taste, but don't have to be from the region in order to clearly understand.
I hope that advice will be of some assistance to you too. Good luck!
Comment Written 20-Feb-2013
reply by the author on 21-Feb-2013
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Thank you Linda for the fine review of my story. Yes, I will take your advice and go back and rework my story. I do want the strong feeling of how much the family speaks French/Cajun to be evident to the reader but don't want it to ruin the flow of the story. The later chapters have far less French.
Comment from BethShelby
I didn't read the first part of this but I will go back and read it when I get time. It is a delightful story and since I spent 16 years in the New Oreleans area, I find it especially interesting. I love the way Cajuns talk. I'll have to put you on my fan list so I'll know when you've posted.
attached her little sister Did you mean attacked
reply by the author on 21-Feb-2013
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I didn't read the first part of this but I will go back and read it when I get time. It is a delightful story and since I spent 16 years in the New Oreleans area, I find it especially interesting. I love the way Cajuns talk. I'll have to put you on my fan list so I'll know when you've posted.
attached her little sister Did you mean attacked
Comment Written 20-Feb-2013
reply by the author on 21-Feb-2013
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Yes, I did mean attacked. I will correct it. Thanks for your fine review of my story. I hope you continue to enjoy it.
Comment from Righteous Riter
This chapter hold my attention from beginning to end. This chapter is about a young character coming into her independence so she can help her family out. This was a regular thing back in the day when kids would drop out of school to help their parents. The transition is good as this chapter is well balanced and the writer does a good job of setting up for the next chapter. Good work.
reply by the author on 21-Feb-2013
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This chapter hold my attention from beginning to end. This chapter is about a young character coming into her independence so she can help her family out. This was a regular thing back in the day when kids would drop out of school to help their parents. The transition is good as this chapter is well balanced and the writer does a good job of setting up for the next chapter. Good work.
Comment Written 20-Feb-2013
reply by the author on 21-Feb-2013
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Thank you Righteous Riter for your encouraging words regarding my
story. I hope you will continue to review and enjoy my story.
