Chapter 6

The next morning was a bit of a scramble as Ami, who was supposed to be out of the house by seven, forgot to set her alarm. And the rest of the house was either trying to sleep in, or getting up too.

Gibbs forgot for a moment that his foot was not to touch ground, so he got out of bed, put his foot down and swore as only a Marine can. He felt hands touch him and relaxed. He turned his head to see Remy, already dressed, holding him by the shoulders. After getting his good foot firmly on the floor he grumbled, "I really need a shower or something."

Remy nodded. "Got it all set up in the big bathroom down the hall. Miss Francine is a good woman."

Gibbs just started hobbling in the right direction. He was pleased to see that Francine had put a waterproof stool in the huge shower cubicle so he could sit down, eliminating the danger of a fall. He cleaned up, shaving with a hand mirror that Remy held for him.

When he was finished, Remy helped him back to their room so he could get dressed. Ami dodged around him, yelling, "Sorry, sorry. I'm so late. Clock didn't go off." She scurried around him, making him glad that he'd put on the bathrobe Tony had set out for him.

Jimmy met him back at the room. "There you are. Feel better? I've got a walking boot and a cane. You'll use them. Or we'll make a chair. Got me?"

Gibbs gave him an indignant look and snarled, "I'm fine."

"You are not. That foot has to hurt like hell. I'd really like an x-ray, but it'd take longer than it's worth. If the pain doesn't fade in three days, I am making arrangements. Now shut up and hold still." Jimmy glowered in a way that even Gibbs didn't argue with and put the boot out. "Put your damn foot in the boot." Gibbs obeyed grumbling. "Bitch, bitch, bitch. Won't change the fact that that needs to be protected if you want to enjoy the Do." He adjusted the boot properly, then handed Gibbs the fancy knob-topped cane. "And use that. Do not just carry it."

Gibbs accepted the cane with a wry expression. "Well, at least it's ... pretty. Breakfast?"

Dean called from the hall. "You need help down the stairs?"

"No. Just food. And some candy." Gibbs managed the stairs carefully, with Tony obviously hovering.

Francine overheard the last remark and demanded, "What you eatin' candy this early for? You spoil your breakfast, and I'm not gonna be pleased." She turned to hurry to the door and yell, "Ami, don't drive too fast. You fail, you try again. You kill yourself ... I murder you."

A faint squawk from Ami seemed to be agreement but no one was quite sure.

They sat down at the table while Jimmy explained about "candy." Francine nodded. "Oh. Drink plenty of water with that. That stuff is hell on you liver." She shuddered when Gibbs crunched the pills up and chased them down with a gulp of coffee. "Oh, merde, that's foul. I get food. Then you better rush or you'll be late."

Gibbs demanded, "Late for what? Damn it, what's going on?" He plunked himself down in his favorite chair, grumbling, "Hate secrets. Don't like surprises. Where's the food?"

Francine put a plate in front of him. "Service this morning. Everyone get the same. Eat."

No one was disappointed, as the platter held a slice of fried ham, red-eye gravy, grits with a fried egg on top, biscuits, cottage fries with onions, and two rashers of bacon. There were butter and jelly on the table.

Everyone dug in and cleaned their plates in record time, even for them. Francine waved them off when they got up to clear the table. "Not today. Y'all's real good about that, but today, you need to get goin'. That tour won't wait." She flushed as she realize she might have said too much.

Remy just grinned at her. "Ne'me'min'. Allons-y."

Remy led them out to the yard to a church bus. "First African Lutheran Church of Jesus of Nazareth let me borrow their bus to take us to the site. We better move it."

And move it they did, piling onto the bus to find that their day packs were already in the luggage overheads, courtesy of Remy and Orly. The short drive down to the landing was accomplished in minutes, minutes that Remy used to explain what they were going to do for the day.

"First, we got a nice air boat tour of parts of the swamp, with some fishin'. That takes as long as it takes. Then we got a 'gator hunt. After that, more swamp, home, supper. Then ... believe it or not, tomorrow's Friday and the Do start. Any questions?"

It seemed that there weren't any.

They arrived at the jetty and saw one large air boat with a smiling man seated at the controls, five feet above the passenger seats. He waved, "I hear ya got one on a cane? He make it? Or you need help?"

Gibbs waved his cane. "I'll just take it slow."

They were soon seated on the boat. The seats were more than adequate, as Michel said he usually planned on a tour of twelve or so. He had seating for sixteen, so they were going to have plenty of room. Everyone took seats around the edges or across the front, except Gibbs, who took a seat in the next-to-last row and put his foot up. Michel waited until everyone was settled, then said, "I got a couple of other people to pick up. Total tour compliment is gonna be ten. We go." And with that, he started the huge fan at the back of the boat and roared off, the pod whooping loudly.

The other passengers turned out to be a couple and their two teen-age sons. Both boys looked like they were happy to be there, but the woman looked like she'd rather have a root canal than go into a swamp. She kept mumbling about bugs and snakes. No one paid her that much attention, intent on enjoying their day instead.

They introduced themselves as Dan and Kathy Reynolds, with George and Evan as their 16- and 14-year-old sons. Kathy promptly seated herself in the middle of the boat, put her bag between her feet and settled in. "Are there life jackets? We should have life jackets, shouldn't we?"

"No, you don't need jackets. If we do tip, the water's only about hip deep on me. This boat only draws about eight inches. The first thing we're going to see is called the Grand Mat. It's a local attraction, if you can call it that, of water hyacinth in full bloom." He eased the boat away from the jetty with some help from Cosmo and Remy, who used push poles to ease them away from the mooring. "Thanks, guys."

He continued his lecture through headphones to combat the roar of the engine and fan. "The water hyacinth is not native to the US, so it's considered a noxious weed. In fact, it's harvested for compost fertilizer in order to keep it from blocking waterways. We used to use outboard motorboats almost exclusively, but now many areas you can't get through without fouling the propellers. It also blocks sun from the waters, eventually creating a condition that smothers the fish. The flowers are beautiful, though."

Michel pointed out an old plantation house, and explained that it was still in private hands, well maintained, and on the National Registry of Historic Homes. Kathy announced that it should be in the hands of the state to make sure it was available for tours. Dean snorted and asked, "What part of private home, well maintained, did you miss?" She just sniffed and turned her head.

Dan, George, and Evan just ignored her. It seemed like she tried to be nice, but managed to have some odd opinions— at least the pod thought so.

Kathy realized that she'd said something wrong, but wasn't quite sure what. She just sat in the middle of the boat and looked around.

Dean and Cosmo moved to the front of the boat, leaving her that whole row to herself. Remy had settled in the seat at Michel's feet, with Tony on one end of the row and Gibbs on the other. Jimmy was in the front row as well, enjoying the wind and sun with unabashed pleasure. Dan, George, and Evan all sat in the second row, also looking around.

They arrived at the mat with little fanfare, and Michel gave them time to admire the huge mat of floating flowers before he drove the boat right into the middle of it. "We're now in the middle of the mat." He pointed. "You'll notice the harvester down that way. They use a simple conveyer belt with rubber fingers on it to pull the weeds out of the water and dump them into a barge, which will take them to the experimental plant where they're shredded and composted. The plant also makes fertilizer. This whole thing is experimental and funded by public donations."

"The flowers are so pretty. Why can't you just ..." Kathy waved a hand. "Move them or something?"

"There's too many of them, and there's no place to move them to. We generally just spray them with weed killer, but that creates its own problems. This way, they're used for something, and poisons are kept out of the swamps."

George frowned at the mat. "But, where did they come from if they're not native?"

Gibbs answered that. "Someone brought them in, in 1884 for the New Orleans Centennial Exposition. Cuts were given away by a group for people to add to their pond and lily gardens. Excess plants were just removed and tossed away. They got into the waterways, and it was all over but the cryin'."

Michel agreed, "Exactly." He started the boat again. "Next stop, fishin'. I've got tourist permits for everyone, and limit and size information."

He kicked the boat into high gear to take them to the fishing hole quickly. While they were in motion, everyone stayed in their seats. It would be handier to set up the poles now, but it wasn't safe, so Michel told them all to remain in their seats.

Remy picked up the rope that Michel pointed to and dropped anchor at his command. "Good, we can fish here. If we don't get any bites after an hour or so, we can move on." He squinted at the sun for a moment. "It's nearly sun-high already, so the fish might be shy."

Everyone was a bit startled to realize that their morning was almost gone. The trip had been fascinating with all the things to see: birds, plants, houses, and the mat.

Remy smiled around as he announced, "Lunch will be served in a moment." He clambered over the back seat to reach the storage under the driver's elevated seat. "We've got bottled teas, juices, and water. Mufaletta, egg salad, ham and cheese. Chips. And there's plenty. State your poison."

Kathy asked for egg salad, asking, "Is it cold. I'm not trying to be picky, but mayo and egg?"

Remy smiled gently. "I made sure to put extra cold packs in with them. Don't want someone gettin' sick." He handed her a sandwich. "Tea?" She nodded, so he handed her a bottle. "Chips?"

"No, thank you. This is fine." She took her food and went back to her seat, putting the sandwich on her lap and the tea between her feet. She then proved that her heart was in the right place. "Mr. Gibbs. Don't get up. Just tell me what you want, and I'll fix it for you."

Gibbs nodded to her. "Don't worry, ma'am, I'll just make a long arm. It's fine." He took the mufaletta, chips, and tea Cosmo offered. "Thanks. Where's AJ?"

"He an' Remy are fixin' the rods." Cosmo waved a hand at the stern. "We'll start fishin' now." He settled down next to Gibbs with his half a mufaletta, a bag of chips, and some tea. "I'm not lookin' forward to gettin' out of here. I bet we hit a snag."

Gibbs frowned over the side at the dark water. "Hope not. I don't look forward to poling this thing."

Michel leaned over; it wasn't hard to hear people talking; small boat, on water. "If we get stuck, Remy an' I'll pole us out. I don't expect to. I checked this hole and the other yesterday. No snags that I could find."

He handed out poles to everyone except Kathy, not much of a surprise. She brandished a book and announced. "I'm going to read. This is such a good book." Tony eyed the cover of Deep Six with disgust and just grunted. Gibbs rolled his eyes.

They fished for about two hours and got a few bites, but didn't actually catch anything. The boys were getting restless, and Kathy was grumbling again when Michel announced, "No good here. We'll move on to the next place. It's nearly two, and our gator hunt is at four." He took off carefully so as not to unseat anyone, but soon was moving at about thirty miles an hour. The boat was capable of more, but thirty was safe and fast enough.

It took about fifteen minutes to get to the next fishing hole, but they didn't stay long, as a group of rowdy canoeists paddled through, scaring all the fish into, as George remarked, the next parish. They had no idea, of course, and cheerfully splashed around, hanging off the sides of the boat and trying to visit with the now-surly group. One of the girls announced, "Oh well, you're not feelin' it, so we'll be off." She tipped the nearest canoe and yelled, "Race you!" then paddled off as fast as she could. The resultant rush to catch up to her scared off any remaining fish.

Michel shrugged. "Sorry, but what can you do? We'll go gator huntin' now."

Only they wouldn't. As they'd drifted around the area, they'd grounded on an unnoticed snag. Now they were stuck until someone figured out how to get them off.

Michel grumbled, "Well, shoot. I'll have to dive in an' see what's what."

Tony shook his head. "I'll do it. You need to stay at the controls." He pulled off his boots and socks, and stepped over the side, easing into the dark water so as not to stir up mud. He ducked under for a moment. "You've got a branch stuck in some sort of intake thing."

"It's the intake for the live tank. I don't have one, but I never bothered to take off the covers. Just yank it loose." Michael waited while Tony pulled the branch out of the cover, bending the hell out of it. "Got it?"

Tony nodded. "Got it." He pulled himself over the side with some help from Dean.

Dan said, "You're awfully brave to just dive into that water. What if an alligator got after you?"

Tony shrugged. "We'd have words."

Michel added, "An' den I shoot 'im." He started the boat again, but eyed the water. "There's a fast current here that wasn't runnin' yesterday. We'll have to go long way around or risk gettin' stuck again. 'Fraid the day's done."

George and Evan did what every teenaged boy would do and let out groans of disappointment. Dan pointed out that they'd been out for almost eight hours by now, and everyone was tired. No one actually was, but it was as good an excuse as any.

Gibbs announced, "Well, my foot's killing me, and I need to get it up again." He proceeded to put his foot back on the seats. "Tony, you got any Vitamin M?"

Tony rummaged in his pack. "I do. Don't you have some?"

"Took it all. Thanks." Gibbs popped the pills into his mouth and chewed them.

The trip back was fun. They were tired in a pleasant sort of way, and hungry. The stop at a stream-side restaurant wasn't planned, but much appreciated.

Michel drew up to the pier, tied the boat up, and announced, "Papa John's Shrimp Shack. Very good food."

John stuck his head out of the kitchen to call, "Michel, what you doin' here? Thought you was goin' the other way this time?"

"Change of plans. Got caught up. Canoes mess up fishin'. An' we're too late for the gator hunt, so here we are."

The Reynolds family took one look at the shack and decided that they'd call for the van to come and get them. Kathy looked like she was exhausted and murmured, "I just want to get back to the hotel. All that sitting around. I know you enjoyed it but I'm ... just tired."

Evan went over to John and asked, "Is it okay if Mom sits at a table, even if we don't buy anything?"

John nodded. "You sit that poor woman down. I'll bring her a glass a' water. You want a drink, it's on the house." He hurried off while Dan made a call on his phone. John returned with the cool water.

"Well, the driver knows exactly where we are, and he'll be here in about fifteen to twenty minutes." Dan nodded to John. "Thanks for the water. I'd order something, but the van will be here before you can get it cooked."

The boys settled down to visit with Dean, Cosmo, and Remy, while Tony and Gibbs sat at another table so Jimmy could look at Gibbs' foot.

"Well, it's black and blue still. You didn't keep it elevated like you should." He waved a hand at Gibbs' protest, saying, "I know. I'd be a fool if I thought you'd be able to keep it up while you were fishing. I'm just sorry we didn't catch anything. I'd love a fried catfish sandwich."

John called over. "You want just a sandwich or a whole plate? Plate comes with slaw an' fries."

Jimmy called back. "I'd love a plate as long as the fish comes on a bun with tartar sauce."

John shook his head. "Don't have such a thing. Sorry."

Tony got up, grinned at Gibbs who just covered his face in mock dismay, and sighed.

"You want tartar sauce? I can teach you how to make it fresh. You got mayo, right?"

John, who was always up for anything new, pointed to the kitchen. "Got that. What else you need?"

So Tony taught John how to make his personal version of tartar sauce, declaring the bottled stuff 'common as dirt.' He made it without measuring, but John wrote down what Tony told him to. "Now. I'd make it up fresh to order and brag about it." Tony dumped his sauce into a server and left the kitchen.

By then Dean had taken everyone's order and handed the scrap of napkin to John. "I took orders. We just ordered what we want; if you don't have it just yell out what it is, and whoever will pick something else."

A honk told them that the van was there. The Reynolds family took their leave, shaking hands around. Remy noticed something on the table and thought to chase them down, as they didn't owe anything for a glass of water and a place to sit. He picked up the paper and realized that it was a note on a bit of lavender sticky note.

"John! Lady left a note."

"So? Read it out." John had his hands full with four orders of shrimp, two oyster Poor Boys, and a catfish sandwich plate.

Remy read: "Sir: Thank you for the water and the seat. I'm sorry we didn't eat, but we're all tired and the drive will give us time to recover. Reynolds Family.

"Well, that's real nice of her. How many of you animals want fries?" The general consensus was everyone wanted fries and slaw. So John just announced, "Well then, you get a bucket of shrimp an' a platter of fries. Don't break the furniture fightin' over it."

There was general laughter over that. Michel got up and went into the kitchen. "No need to dish up slaw either. I'll take a thing out, and they can help themselves." Just then, it started to rain. "Damn it! This whole day been a nuisance. Just glad your roof don't leak."

Gibbs groaned, "Man, you just jinxed us. There's gonna be a leak somewhere now for sure."

John shook his head. "Don't think so. I just tarred it last week."

No one was a bit surprised when a gutter fell and the corner of the porch started leaking, causing a small creek to trickle across the floor.

"Fils de pute! I doan believe it. Merde!" John rushed to try to fix it, but Remy stopped him.

"Man, you tend your tattin'. I'll fix that." He went out to take a look at the gutter, but all he could do was move the broken bit so the water went into the yard instead of into the building. "Well, that's as good as it gets. Shoulda kep' your mouth shut, homme."

While he was doing that, Tony took a moment to take off his still-wet clothing and hand it to Gibbs to wring out. Everyone admitted that he was best at wringing things nearly dry. "Thanks, Jet. How's your foot now?"

"Better. I let it go too long between doses. I'd really like to put a hot pack on it. Jimmy?"

Jimmy, who'd been gazing out into the rain, absently turned and said, "Hum? Oh ... foot. Hot pack. Gimme a sec." he rummaged in his ruck and produced a chemical heat pack, activated it, and handed it over. "There. You want me to take the boot off or can you manage?"

Gibbs eyed the boot and decided he didn't feel like grappling with it. "You do it, please." He was also very much aware that this would please Jimmy.

Jimmy move over with a small smile. "Okay, boot off." He carefully pulled the Velcro open and eased the boot off. Gibbs sighed with relief; he knew how tight the boot should be, but it was still a good feeling to have it off. "It's still black and blue, but it's turning yellow and green already. That's good." Jimmy eased Gibbs' foot up onto a stool that Cosmo pushed over, then put the hot pack on it. "There. If it's too hot, I'll see if I can't find something to put under it."

Gibbs sat for a moment, deciding, "It's okay. If it gets too hot, I'll just take it off for a bit."

And then there was food. John brought out a huge platter of fries, a bucket of fried shrimp, oyster poor-boy sandwiches, and Jimmy's catfish. Since Michel had already put two containers of slaw on the table, along with plates for those who needed them, it was time to eat.

They fell to with gusto, and the fry platter was soon bare, while the shrimp bucket was placed at one end of the table; the men who wanted that settled around it. The slaw disappeared from the containers with lightning speed, and they settled in to finish their food.

Gibbs declared his Po'boy the best he'd had in a long time, while Jimmy didn't say much of anything, digging into his food and managing only a happy moan of pleasure.

It wasn't long before the food was all gone and everyone was groping for money. Michael shook his head. "Food included in the tour. An' John's gonna come out good. The Reynolds paid but didn't eat. I called the van back as I'm not sure about the route I was gonna take. Things shifted last night. And I don't want us on the water in a storm."

There was a bit of shuffling as they cleaned the tables over John's protests. Tony told him to shut it, as they weren't just sitting around while he cleaned. Remy was just finishing sweeping the floor when the van showed up.

A cheerful voice called, "I parked as close to the porch as I could get. We better get going before it starts up again."

Gibbs just stood up, having put his boot back on, and said, "Rain's let up a bit. Bye, John."

John saw them to the door then stood on the porch and watched as they all scrambled into the van, running to keep as dry as possible. Gibbs got the favored front seat to keep someone from bumping his foot.

Their driver didn't bother introducing himself, but did tell them that they would be back to their lodgings in about thirty minutes. Everyone stowed their bags under their seats and, in typical fashion, went to sleep. The driver shook his head, but let them sleep, driving carefully in order not to jostle them awake.

He pulled into the drive, jiggled Gibbs with his elbow, and said, "We're here."

Gibbs snorted once, then sat up. "Um. oh. Okay, thanks." He groped for his bag, calling, "Hey! Wake up! We're here."

It had stopped raining, but it was a decidedly soggy group that tumbled into the house, creating chaos in the way that they had. Bags were handed off, and Remy wound up with them all. He stomped up the stairs, grumbling about not being a pack mule, but everyone could tell it was as half-hearted as it got. Dean and Cosmo both decided that they wanted showers, but were put off when they realized that Tony was already in one. Gibbs yelled at him for leaving a trail of wet, muddy things from their room to the shower. Remy and Jimmy both went to the kitchen, Remy to tell Francine that they'd eaten out, something she obviously already knew, as she was making salad. Jimmy admitted that he wanted a cup of hot tea, which he set about making for himself from a bag he produced from his ruck.

No one worried about much of anything while Tony showered, followed by Dean, then Cosmo. Ami returned with a truck full of stuff which she dropped off at the shelter. She bounced into the house cheerfully informing everyone that she'd aced her test, something she knew thanks to the electronic grading system.

Gibbs put his foot up with the restarted hot pack on it and dozed comfortably in his favorite chair on the porch. Everyone joined him as they finished cleaning up, and they just talked about their tour, the food at John's, and this and that, spending a pleasant evening without worry about call-outs or cases.

.

The next morning was the first day of the Do, and Francine was notably absent from the kitchen. Ami was there instead and told them that Ma'mere was already cooking for the crowd, not to mention the carry-in dishes, so they were either eating what she knew how to make or cooking for themselves. A quick glance and she headed for the kitchen, announcing, "Okay, I'll do it, but it's scrambled eggs, fried potatoes, bacon, ham and grits. It'll be out family-style in about thirty minutes." She grinned over her shoulder. "And I really don't like help in the kitchen; I'll just burn myself ... or you. So sit."

They obediently sat and were soon served. Everyone was careful to pay Ami a compliment, as it was just as good as Francine's food. Then it was time to go to the Do.

.

Gibbs looked around in amazement. "Where the hell did all these people come from? There's got to be two or three hundred here."

Remy shrugged. "Campground down the way. Motels in New Orleans. Bunch bedded down in the barn down the way. Catholic church in town got beds in ... everywhere. There's RV's parked in everyone's yard that has room. And cars an' trucks parked in the parkin' lot. Some people started drivin' at midnight. Come on."

They wandered around a bit, all in a clump. Remy called out greetings to nearly everyone, explaining that, "The only people I don't know are dates of relatives. Everyone here is related to me, through Ma'mere, in one way or another. There's a couple of people who are double first cousins. If you want to talk to someone, just walk up and tell 'em who you are in relation to me." And with that, he ambled off to speak to someone he waved down.

Gibbs sighed. "I'm for a sit-down." He suddenly brightened. "Just thought. With this foot, there's no way someone's gonna make me dance."

Gibbs settled in a chair under the shelter near the buffet. It wasn't set yet, but he enjoyed just watching all the people come in, hug and kiss Ma'mere, then put their dishes on one of the long tables under the huge roof. Many of them greeted Gibbs with, "Bonjour; who you?" He'd explain who he was, they'd visit a bit, his obviously injured foot a good opening topic, then the people would move on and another group show up.

Dean and Cosmo wandered off to find something to do and wound up playing horseshoes, of all things. They'd stopped to speak with Orly, who had dragged them off, as he was searching for two people to make up the teams. They had a lot of fun, as they were on a team with two older men who, it turned out, were retired Navy. So, naturally, their team was dubbed the Swabs.

Remy spent most of the day catching up with people he hadn't seen in a couple of years, while Tony, sociable as he was, spent time just introducing himself and trading stories of Remy.

At noon someone rang an old-fashioned dinner triangle bell and called everyone to, "Come say grace and fill your plates." Everyone gathered around, someone said grace, and a line formed. Kids ran back and forth with plates and drinks for those who couldn't get their own. Gibbs was a bit disgusted to see that Ma'mere had included him in that group, which included anyone unsteady on his feet or older than 85, a couple of amputees, and a nursing mother. He was mollified when the young man said, "Best to shut up and let Ma'mere have her way. Notional ol' woman that she is. Beside, it an honor to help you. Bon appetit."

Jimmy still manned the first-aid station, but he admitted that he just liked having a place to sit that no one would steal. He visited with people he'd helped over the last few days, fixed a couple of cuts, kissed a few skinned knees after applying appropriate bandaids, and offered advice here and there. He was also brought a plate brimming with good food and a huge glass of tea. He thanked the blushing girl profusely and watched in bafflement as she hurried off, giggling like mad.

The whole day was full of good food, fun, games, and chatter. Children ran around like, as Remy said, crazy things, playing whatever games they thought up. Older people gathered in groups, chattered, milled about, played checkers, washers, ladder darts, and other lawn games. At dusk, many of the families left, taking younger children back to put them to bed. The middle crowd stayed to help the band set up for the evening music.

.

Tony glanced up as a man wandered over. "Yes?"

"We ... got a problem. Remy said maybe you could help?"

"I don't know. What's the problem?" Tony was willing to give just about anything a try, but he wasn't about to promise, then not produce.

"Our keyboard man ... he broke his wrist. We sure could use someone can play jazz."

Tony grinned. "I can do that. I know most of the standards and a few odd bits."

"Okay. You come?"

Tony stood up and ambled after the man to check things out.

It turned out that the group used a rather high-end, full-key keyboard so they could hook into their sound system. All Tony had to do was fiddle around a bit to get used to the feel of the keyboard.

The lead singer called everyone over. "Everyone! We got music." The drummer played a flourish. "Duval broke his wrist, so we got a fill-in. Everyone give AJ DiNozzo a welcome hand." There was a lot of applause, plus a bit of hooting and such from the crowd.

It turned out that Tony was just as good at jazz as he was at classical. He could even keep up with zydeco. The music went on into the night, with dancing and sing-alongs. When they finally broke up and the lights went out, it was going on for 0300.

The leader asked, "You need a ride somewhere?"

Tony shook his head. "No, thank you. I'm just over there at Francine's place. It's barely a walk. Good night."

He was joined by everyone on the way back. Gibbs was walking better, but he took it slow anyway. The night was cool, the stars shining; they could hear frogs croaking in the nearby swamp. They went to bed, trying to be quiet so they didn't wake the other guests.

.

The next day was a repeat of the last; breakfast was eaten on the run, just biscuit sandwiches, but they were delicious.

The grounds around the shelter were already teeming with people when they arrived. Gibbs was now off the injured list, but his foot was still sore, and he was limping with the cane still. He was also a bit pissed, as he'd ruined the only pair of boots he had with him, so he was wearing his old sneakers. He knew he'd have to get a pair of boots before they mounted up to go home. No way was he getting an earful from everyone for riding a motor in sneakers.

He dodged a noisy of children, then chuckled to himself. Someone heard and said, "Share the joke, homme."

"I was just thinking about the names we have for things. Like a flock of crows is called a 'murder,' and a flock of swans a 'glide.'" He chuckled again. "A group of kids is called a 'noisy' when they're awake, but a 'bundle' when they're asleep." The man laughed heartily at that and went to tell his wife.

Dean was smiling as he ambled up. "We got washers, bean bag chuck, ladders, or horse shoes. Wanna play?" Gibbs followed him off to play washers.

Cosmo was waiting for them, talking with Remy. It seemed he was listing all the foods he'd eaten that Remy was going to have to get recipes for. "Shucked oysters with that green stuff. Corn pudding. Shrimp with that crunchy coating on it. That stew thing the woman called Creole Curry. Po'boys. And that rice stuff with the peas in it."

Remy rolled his eyes and told Cosmo. "Shut it, you. That oyster dish is Oysters Rockefeller. The rest, I know recipes for. Anything there was, I know how to make or can find out. Calm yourself."

So they played washers, taking on all comers and having a great time.

Tony got dragged off to jam with some musicians when someone found out that he played guitar as well as piano. They could hear his laughter drift on the breeze from time to time.

Kids danced in the grass and ran like deer. Adults danced too, and sang along with the songs they knew. People came in with guitars, banjoes, concertinas, accordions and fiddles. Someone would get tired or hungry and just get up and wander off. Someone else would take their place.

Lunch was called with the triangle, and the music stopped just long enough for the musicians to eat. Tony didn't go back; he said his fingers were getting sore. Instead, he went to play ladders with some of the men he'd made friends with.

They spent the day playing games, eating, drinking and having a great time. Dusk, however, brought about a small, or not so small, problem. Many people wanted fireworks, but Ma'mere always had a firework-free party. She didn't like them and was well aware that the local tradition of military service made them problematic, at best. Most of the men, and women, who'd been in combat had problems with explosions and flashes of fire. Some kids produced firecrackers which they wanted to set off. This led to the exodus of any family who wanted fireworks. They headed back up to New Orleans where they could set them off and leave the rest of the party to go on about their entertainments.

There was a new group of musicians for the night, and they provided old-fashioned Cajun zydeco music. Tony wound up dancing most of the night, being passed from lady to lady, and enjoyed himself immensely. Everyone else danced, ate, and drank until they were too tired to do more than walk back to the B&B. Gibbs was even dragged onto the floor once. He made a rather dramatic show of limping and got off the floor as fast as he could, frankly saying that he never danced, didn't know how, and didn't want to learn. He was boo'ed, which he took with one of his crooked grins.

The pod finally dropped into bed at around 0300, and they all fell asleep seconds later.

.

Francine was enjoying the Do. She always loved having lots of people in her house, but she was way off the beaten track, so she usually only got a few people from the swamp tours. These were her "honey" days, the days that she made enough money to keep her for several months. It didn't hurt that everyone was good. They didn't leave her a mess and actually helped with chores. Ami was good help, but she had classes, as she was trying to get through school in three years so she could get a job at the projected new grade school in the parish. She perked up as she heard her phone ring. But when she picked it up, she realized that it wasn't hers. She hesitated to answer it, but decided it couldn't hurt.

"Hello. This is Mr. DiNozzo's phone."

She got a semi hysterical girl on the phone who demanded to speak to AJ or Jet right now. She soothed the girl, saying, "Hush now. Calm down. What's going on?"

"Who is this?" This was a different, older voice.

"Francine Reinye. I'm the owner of this bed and breakfast. Mr DiNozzo left his phone downstairs, so I answered it. What's going on?"

"This is Penny ... Penelope Langston. I'm Tim McGee's grandmother. There's been ... an incident. Can I speak to one of the group, please?"

"Yes, of course. I'll carry the phone up, don't hang up." Francine knew that something was badly wrong, so she hurried up the stairs and knocked on the door. "AJ! AJ! Wake up an' put some pants on. Phone."

Tony answered the door almost at once. "What's wrong?" Obviously something was wrong, as it was 0700 and Francine sounded worried. He took the offered phone. "Thanks."

Tony listened, his face getting dark with fury. He finally said, "We can be there in ... six to eight hours." He hung up then said, "Our friend is hurt. His grandmother wants us to come. We'll be checking out. Sorry."

Francine shook her head. "What do you need?"

.

The next story actually starts immediately, but this is getting way too long and the situation has changed. So I'm ending this here.

.

File 13 - trash can.
Tango Sierra - tough shit.
sot- silly
Théophile - tea o feh lee
Narcisse - nar cees

Ma'mere lived on Bayou Saint Denis but got flooded out and moved to Davant about thirty miles south of New Orleans

The Grand Mat does not actually, to my knowledge, exist.

I know someone is going to ask so here's the recipe.

1 cup mayo
2 tbl finely diced onion
2 tbl finely diced garlic
1/2 c sweet pickle relish well drained (or more but be sure to drain it well)
1 tsp lemon juice
dash cayenne pepper (to taste. I add more)