Jared and I stood in the place of the frozen surreal. We, having never faced a dead body before. The motionless form of my pedophile foster uncle lie crumpled upon the floor. In an intimate distance, there rested a bottle of whiskey and a small snub-nose .38 revolver. The birth and death of it all.


Among the numerous children within the trailer park,  Jared Robicheaux remained my favorite. He was my best friend and foster cousin. Much in the manner of a Greek tragedy, the irony waltzed upon the grave detail that his drunken father, Gary Robicheaux, also played the role of my pedophile foster uncle. They~ both one and the same.  Jared was a delicate, slender lad arrayed with dark brown hair flanked by hollow blue and ocher eyes. He was but two years younger than myself, and I was fiercely protective of him. Sheer abiding horror cast a bond about us, that was like no other.


Cochise Trailer Park was centered upon a dusty road, rife with gravel.  The road eventually succumbed to the palmetto swept and wooded wetlands. This in turn, gave way to the murky swamp.  At first light, the darkishness of the swamp lay bare to cascades of mossy Cypress trees. Adorned with nesting ospreys, their roots flourishing in the fecund water. We, as kids, were ever cautioned not to trifle with the dangerous creatures which inhabited the feral Louisiana swamp.

Ravages of predators, such as the sultry and nocturnal bobcats, we were served notice to heed.  There remained also the unfortunate event of chancing upon a deadly alligator or an aggressive water moccasin.  Perhaps on the rarest of occasions, an encounter with an insidious black bear may surely be our end.  An endless tautology of it all.  The swamp, we were told was where all fashion of evil and harm came to roost.  Isn’t it pretty to think so?   Those~ the perilous things.  So there it rests with great irony and misfortune, that I must convey these next words: Not a blessed soul forewarned us of the treacherous minotaur among us. The devious, frolicking minotaur~  which lie in wait at the locus of the trailer park.






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