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Orleans and enjoyed having so attentive an audience
as me and, later, Mama. In fact, he ended up talking
more with her about Louisiana's history than he did
with me.
Late in the afternoon, the hunting party
returned. Pierre's father had more than two dozen
ducks, as did their friends. Before they reached the
dock to disembark the pirogues, Pierre went into the
shack and retrieved his clothing. Mama had ironed
everything, as well as dried it, and it looked at least as
good as it had been.
"No reason to tell your father about our spill
into the canal," Pierre whispered to me as the men
shouted from the dock. I nodded. I knew Mama
wouldn't say anything.
Even in his hunting clothing, Pierre's father
looked the distinguished gentleman with his full head
of stark white hair and his matching goatee. His
cheeks and forehead were pink from the sun,
deepening the wrinkles around his bright, emerald
green eyes. I guessed from the expression on Daddy's
face that he was giving Daddy a sizable tip. He then
gazed at me for a long moment before approaching
Pierre.
"How's your headache, son? Did you try some
of Madame Landry's secret potions or," he added,
smiling in my direction, "find another way to cure
yourself?"
"I'm fine, Father," Pierre replied curtly. "I see
you did well."
