“… There’s a little green frog swimming in the water a little green frog doing what he ought-a … Alright all you gladers… there are 15 species of frogs and snakes in this here swamp and the most deadly of all is Captain Dwayne’s trouser-snake responsible for breaking hearts and busting up trailer parks on both sides of the Okeefenokee. This here’s injun land compadres. You’re on an Indian Reservation and the spirit of the hawk and the water dragon oversees these waterways. Now you calls em gators but we calls em draaaaagons… and if you let old captain Dwayne rev up this here rusty metal wildebeest to 150 miles per hour we’ll just see if we can rustle up some draaaagons for ya … ” [vrooooom!]
I gave him what was left of my hand because he asked for it with such a kindness; he even called me miss. It was the kindness you forget about when you run out of family and end up in a home off the soggy edge of the Everglades. Rosecliff, they called it, to make it sound less like swamp muck. I didn’t know how well I could stand anymore until that man, the father of the head doctor, told me we were leaving for somewhere better. You don’t get feet to disintegrate like mine unless you traveled, and traveled I did, and travel I would. All that man had to say was please, you know, before I remembered how to walk again.