Cajun Justice(31)

“At least for a while,” Cain replied.

“Dieu merci!” Claude said with excitement. “Dat’s music to ma old ears.”

Margaret, Cain’s mother, saw the celebration from the living room window. She rushed outside and hugged Cain tightly as the men peppered him with questions.

“Let my boy take a breath for a moment. He’s been on the road for no telling how long,” she scolded.

“Thank you, Mom.”

She stepped back and eyed Cain up and down. “You’re looking so thin,” she said. “You mus’ be starvin’.”

“I could eat.”

“We all could,” Claude said. “Allons à la maison. Me, I’m gonna prepare da bes’ crawfish étouffée wit rice you ever had.”

The family sat together at the wooden table in the kitchen while Claude rustled up dinner. “Seth, fetch me some green onions from da garden.”

“Can’t it wait? I’m interrogating Cain about why he’s back home all of a sudden.”

“He ain’t goin’ nowhere. You’ll have plenty of time to git dem details. Go grab some okra, tomatoes, an’ squash.”

“I’ll go get ’em,” Cain said.

“Jus’ sit an’ relax, son. You been ridin’ for days,” Claude said. “Seth got two legs.”

Cain laughed. “I hear that. But I need to stretch mine. I’ll go help you, Seth.”

The brothers walked outside and starting picking vegetables from the garden. They were practically shoulder to shoulder, but when Cain looked over at his brother, he saw Seth at about seven or eight years old. Just like old times, he thought. Gathering vegetables for dinner. Except the innocence of that seven-year-old boy was left overseas in a combat zone.

“I’m glad you’re here to take care of Mom and Pops,” Cain told his younger brother.

“The farm has a way of taking care of all of us. Glad you’re back home, Cain.”

They walked back into the house with a handful of the freshest vegetables. Cain was feeling nostalgic. He looked around the kitchen and noticed that nothing had changed in the last thirty-something years. The same wallpaper and old family pictures adorned the walls. It comforted him. The whole experience of being back home felt like being a bird returned to its nest. He exhaled deeply and then smiled. Here he could relax completely.

“Whatcha lookin’ at, sweetie?” Margaret asked as she placed a soft hand on Cain’s face.

“This kitchen looks the exact same as it did when I used to live here.”

“So many memories created here,” she said. “So many meals together. I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

“Ma heart ees full tonight.” Claude, a typical Cajun, wiped tears from his eyes. “I’m as happy as a tick on a fat dog.”

Cain laughed. “That’s just the onions making you cry.”

“Non,” he shot back, and shook his head. “I’m so glad to have ma family togeder. Da only way to make dis day any better ees eef Bonnie waz here wit us.”

“I’ll talk to her,” Cain said. “Maybe she can deadhead this way soon.”

“Good! Well, dinner ees done,” Claude said with glee. He offered a blessing over the meal and then served his family. He made sure everyone put plenty of food on their plates. “Eef you go to bed hungry, eet’s your fault.”

“God, it smells heavenly,” Cain said. “I can’t remember the last time I had food like this.” Cain took one bite and nodded in approval. “?a c’est bon!”

Claude smiled and winked. “We have plenty of work here on da farm to keep you busy,” he said. “An’ we don’t need no money. Dis house has been paid off since your grandfather waz kickin’.”

Margaret smiled and placed her hand on top of Cain’s, which was resting on top of the dining table. “I’m not goin’ to let you go this time.”

Cain took a second helping of corn bread and spread some butter on it with an old knife that had a fleur-de-lis on the handle. “I’m not planning to go anywhere. This is where I belong for now. Si Dieu le veut.”





Chapter 30



A crowing sound pierced the silence, waking Cain from the most restful sleep he could remember. He peeled back the window’s curtain and saw a haggard rooster balancing on top of the wooden fence around the barn. The sun was barely entering the day. When did Pops get a rooster? he wondered. He hates that sound as much as I do.

Cain lay back down on the mattress. It was the same bed that was his in high school. The springs were worn, and it no longer provided any back support. But his mom and dad came from the generation that didn’t believe in getting rid of anything, so Cain’s old room was practically the same as when he left for college, with the addition of a few “great deals” from yard sales that had accumulated in the corners. That’s where Cain differed from his parents: he didn’t like clutter and didn’t hold on to things “just in case” he might need them someday. He had brought everything that was important to him to Louisiana: his motorcycle, his wedding ring, his wristwatch, his wedding picture, and a photo of his son, Christopher, sleeping on Cain’s chest.