Free Lost in the River of Grass by Ginny Rorby Page B

hope they’re big enough.”
    â€œI’m hungry.” My stomach is killing me.
    â€œNo food until we get there.”
    â€œWho died and left you in charge?”
    He smiles for the first time since this morning. “If you were in charge, we’d be headed for Lake Okeechobee.”
    We slog on without talking. The sound of our splashing is comforting in a way.
    He’s waiting for me again. “Can’t you go a little faster?” he says when I catch up.
    Bite me
, my mind snaps, but I just glare at him.
    Straight ahead is a wall of cattails that stretches as far as I can see in either direction. The same irrational fear of them rises in me again, only worse this time. In the airboat we were able to see over them—see the other side and the way out. Once we’re inside, it will be as if we’ve been swallowed by green stalks. Still, when Andy starts through I follow, but the minute I feel surrounded, I stop. “Can’t we go around instead? I don’t like these things.”
    â€œWhat’s not to like? They’re plants.”
    â€œI don’t know. They freak me out, that’s all.”
    Andy shakes his head and comes back to where I’m waiting, hoping he’ll say okay, we’ll go around. “We have to keep going straight no matter what. If we start zigzagging around the hard parts, it will take us a week to get out.”
    â€œI’m so thirsty.”
    He turns to look at me. “How much water do you need?” He draws an arc with his hand.
    â€œI can’t drink swamp water. Animals poop in it, and there’s all that slimy stuff floating around.”
    â€œMaybe we’ll find a water fountain.”
    I stick my tongue out at him and immediately feel childish.
    I’ve been shifting Teapot from shoulder to shoulder until both my arms ache from holding her in place. I lift the duckling off and put her in the water. All day I’d kept my bandana wet and draped around my neck. It’s helped me stay cool, but the sun is getting low now and there is enough of a breeze that I feel a little chill. I knot the bandana around my neck, scoop Teapot up, and put her in the sling I’ve formed, then start forward again, trying to stay in the trail that Andy is opening through the cattails.
    Two birds scream and lift off to my left. They startle me, but I swallow my cry. Small green frogs leap from the stalks into the water. The deeper into the cattails we move, the more impassably dense they become, and the bottom gets mushier. Mud has seeped into the holes in my boots, but I don’t realize the water is getting deeper until it pours over the tops. I put all my effort into taking another step, but only the top half of my body moves. I fall over, twisting as I pitch forward so as not to crush Teapot.
    Andy turns when I land with a grunt. “What happened?” He sighs heavily before coming back to help me up.
    â€œThese holes aren’t working. My boots are full of water.”
    â€œThat’s ’cause more water pours in than can pour out two little holes. Take ’em off.”
    I don’t want to stand barefoot in the mud, but I don’t want to say so and have Andy roll his eyes, so I just lie there.
    He figures it out, rolls his eyes, then bundles a dozen or more cattails together, twists them like fat, green strands of yarn, and folds them over. “Stand on these. That’s the best I can do to keep your precious little feet from touching bottom.”
    â€œYou think I’m a wuss don’t you? Well, I’m not. I’m afraid of stepping on a snake.”
    â€œYou are acting like a sissy. We’re making enough noise to scare the piss out of everything in our path.”
    â€œI’m not acting like anything. I’m afraid of snakes and alligators. Anyone with half a brain would feel the same way. I’m not a backwoods redneck like you are.”
    Andy bites his bottom