Nether Regions Read Online Free Page A

sane.”
    “Sane?”
    “Yeah, sane. Like work one job. Like finding someone who really cares about you.”
    “I know.”
    The silence grew and Delora began to feel like she could breathe again.
    “You know the door here is always open.”
    She thought of the little two-room apartment in Myrtle Beach that he’d described to her and the sudden love she felt for him made her heart pound. “Thank you, honey. I’ll remember that.”
    “Goodnight, Delora. Love you bunches.”
    “You too. Sleep. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
    Peeper frogs called loudly to one another and the sound seemed to swell and fill the room when his voice no longer sounded in Delora’s ear. Reaching up, she switched off the light and let their arrhythmic song lull her to sleep.

Chapter Four
    Father Snake slithered off like mercury spills, and Sophie sat down hard, one cheek of her denim-covered bottom sliding into the wet marsh surrounding Bayou Lisse. She swore a host of colorful invectives and, using a nearby sapling, pulled herself to her feet. She swiped at her jeans with both hands and swore again when she saw the amount of duckweed and silt that muddied her hands. Irritated at her bad luck, she wiped the back of one hand across her forehead and swung her thick blond braid behind one shoulder. Stepping carefully, she bent and dipped her hands into a calm pool, spreading sawgrass and duckweed until she had created a small water-filled basin for herself. Rinsing her hands repeatedly, she scooped the odorous muck from her jeans. Then, relatively clean, she rinsed her hands one final time and stamped her foot at the contrary snake, surely long gone by now.
    “I only wanted some of your juice, you blasted fool,” she said. “I don’t know why you got to be so selfish with it.”
    Satisfied to have spoken her piece, she retrieved the worn gathering basket that always accompanied her on these jaunts and proceeded along the bank toward home. On the way she paused to dig spicy cattail roots and to pull a couple strips of pine bark, thanking each plant for the gift as she accepted it.
    The bayou was unusually noisy today. Sophie paused a moment to listen to the insistent message. Nothing much was conveyed beyond the usual getting-on-with-life messages. She moved onward.
    The water stretched lazily to her left. There was a sluggish current dead center, but the edges today were as still and smelly as a sickroom. New summer green framed the water on both sides, and the verdant growth extended down along the riverbank, the nodding heads of the plants sipping daintily at the water.
    Tired, Sophie plopped onto a low bank backed by riotous willow trees and placed her basket in the middle of her folded legs. She peered into it, mentally checking off a grocery list of herbs—slippery elm for Carol’s sore throat, burdock for the Kiel boy’s skin tumor, balm to strew outside on the deck at the house and white willow to replenish her store. She still needed thyme and plantain, but she continued to sit. Just for a while. Being quiet and empty was a true indulgence, and wandering the bayou gathering supplies served as camouflage for an occasional bit of woolgathering. Not a lot—she was far too busy usually. But once in a while it was nice to sit and study the water by daylight, recharging her batteries.
    A splash to her left caught her attention, and she saw the swirl of a catfish tail as the fish worked his way back to the bottom after a quick snack of leggy water gliders.
    A tuft of sinewy plantain leaves snared her interest, and she leaned to one side, clippers extended, and snipped off a few, leaving thanks behind.
    She sighed and fingered the thick plantain leaves. She thought of her mother and wondered what she was doing. They had managed to forge a strong relationship despite Faye’s penchant for men, cigarettes and booze, in that order, none of which factored into Sophie’s life. During her time as a healer, she’d seen too many times what