You also want an ePaper? Increase the reach of your titles
YUMPU automatically turns print PDFs into web optimized ePapers that Google loves.
<strong>The</strong> gravel crunched with each step, it was<br />
similar to the sound one makes when chewing pieces of<br />
ice. Kayla abruptly stopped her brisk pace causing the<br />
faithful lab who had been trotting by her side to circle<br />
back around. She stooped, one hand still in her pocket,<br />
and slipped her exposed fingers through the coarse,<br />
looped end of a rope. <strong>The</strong> ragged lead was attached to<br />
the front of a faded blue kayak. It rested in a muddy<br />
patch, next to a faded red kayak, underneath a stubby<br />
hurricane palm. <strong>The</strong> rope was prickly to the touch and<br />
hurt a bit as she pulled the small craft from the clutches<br />
of the mud. It was a brisk day and her hands were tender<br />
in the cool air. <strong>The</strong> boat made a sucking sound as it was<br />
lifted from its soggy confines. Several worms flipped and<br />
shimmied in the exposed light of day. Bad Dog! her canine<br />
companion playfully yapped at the large night crawlers,<br />
spurring their reentry to the subterranean world. <strong>The</strong> old<br />
kayak hissed and gargled as it was dragged over the loose<br />
gravel path. Water sloshed back and forth in the hollow<br />
cavity forcing Kayla to flip it over several times in the<br />
hope she wouldn’t have a soggy paddle on the river. <strong>The</strong><br />
path was wide enough and the craft weathered enough<br />
for Kayla to feel no shame about dragging it over course<br />
rocks and through filthy mud. Bit by bit the gravel gave<br />
way to crushed oyster shell and sand. <strong>The</strong> path began<br />
to narrow and twist around tight grassy corners. She<br />
was forced to let go of her hold on the rope and instead<br />
grab the lip that separated the paddler’s seat from the<br />
By Gene Cashman lll<br />
Photography By David Howard<br />
outside shell. Her small arms strained as she heaved the<br />
boat up on her knee then quickly hoisted it to her hip,<br />
gaining her balance she again set off down the winding<br />
path. Bad Dog! leaped and played in the waist high grass<br />
that lined the path. Several times stopping dead in her<br />
tracks to avoid a playful collision with her master. Kayla<br />
let the boat slip several times, sending it crashing into the<br />
shells and bent grass. With no one to help her she would<br />
awkwardly retrieve the boat from the weeds and hoist it<br />
up on her knee and hip to carry. This reminded her of the<br />
solitude to come, of being alone with a task, a burden.<br />
27