Bitter Root (13 page)

“Ah, no.”

“Shoot. Now I’m disappointed.”

“You’ll get to see lots of pepper plants and some great old
buildings. The country store is cool too.”

“Well, okay, but I’m still bummed about the tigers.”

“Yeah, me too. We could see a black bear, so there’s that. You
can find something to listen to on the radio if you want.”

“I’d rather just talk.”

“Okay. What shall we talk about?”

“Let’s talk about why you’re afraid of your past. Could we do
that?”

“Griffith—”

“What? I’m serious, Adi. What is it in your past that has you so
tense? Why did you run away? What were you running from?”

Adi sighed, and Griffith worried she would turn the truck around
and take her back to the hotel.

I’m just
doing my job. I’m not going to give up, no matter how long it takes. I need to
get her to open up without breaking the tenuous friendship we’re developing.
And if we can’t have a friendship because of my job, so be it.

“Look, I don’t have anything to hide. It’s just old stuff. Stuff
that damaged me as a kid. It took me a long time to get past those hurts, and I
just don’t feel ready to reopen the wounds. Do you understand?”

Griffith felt there was more to it than that. She had learned a
long time ago to follow her instincts. The best stories came from asking the
big picture questions, and she needed to know the root of Adi’s fear. Every
nerve in her body was tingling with that familiar sensation that came with a
complex story.
This is
something real. Something deeper. I can’t give up. If I can just get her to see
that, I can help her put her demons to rest.
Kids ran away all the
time. There wasn’t anything new in that. But if Adi’s reason had been simply
having shit parents, she would have said so. The fact that she didn’t say so
meant there was more to the story
.

“Kind of. I understand what damage abuse does. I’ve dealt with
survivors before. You can trust me. I don’t want to bring anything to the
surface that’s going to hurt you. That’s not why I’m asking. I feel like
there’s something holding you back, and that makes me uneasy. I want to
understand why you have to hide, but I can’t if you don’t give me information
to work with.”

“You say I can trust you, but I have to know that I can trust
you. Not just today or next week, but trust you forever. This doesn’t have
anything to do with the story you’re writing, but everything to do with who I
am. Before I would ever tell you, I’d have to be sure you won’t let something
slip that ends up hurting the people I love.”

What in the
world could be that terrible? What could cause that level of fear and paranoia?
Whatever it is, is big. This is what I was picking up on. Do I really want to
know? Is a story worth it?

“What is it? Why does my knowing about it threaten your loved
ones?”

“It just does, okay? Just trust me on that. You’re a journalist,
and you’re here to write a story. When I’m sure about you, when I know you see
me as a friend and not just some story you want to write, I’ll tell you
everything. Nothing held back.”

“Promise?”

“Yes, I promise.”

“In that case, what do you want to listen to? Top forty?
Country?”

“How about oldies?”

“How old? Your oldies might be my current playlist.”

“You’re not that much older than me.”

“You’d be surprised.”

“I’ll be twenty-three in July. How old are you?”

“Older than anyone you went to high school with. I’m thirty.”

“That’s not old. Hey, seven years is nothing around here. My dad
was twelve years older than my mom.”

“Really? How old was she when they first met?”

“She was twenty-one, he was thirty-three, when they had their
first date. But Mamma looked older than she was, and Daddy never grew up.”

“You mentioned your dad was a shrimper, right?”

“Yeah. He worked for an old man, running his boat. Dad loved his
work. He was so much in his element on the open water. I think he died happy,
because he died at sea, you know?”

“I can understand that. They say the sea is a harsh mistress. How
did he die, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“No, I don’t mind talking about him. He was caught in a tropical
storm offshore. The boat capsized and all hands were lost. Six men went down
that night, my dad among them.”

“How old were you when that happened?”

“I was seven. I went out every morning to meet his boat on the
dock. That morning, he just didn’t show up. Mamma called the coast guard. We
didn’t know about the storm. It went south and we didn’t even get any rain.
Mamma tried real hard to act broken up about it, but I knew she was happy to be
free of him. She wasn’t a very nice woman.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Is she gone too?”

“I hope so.”

Griffith pondered the information, tucking it away to put through
a search engine.

“Did I shock you?” Adi asked.

“No, not really. So you didn’t get along with your mother?”

“Uh, that would be an understatement. She’d as soon smack me as
look at me. We were like oil and water. I think she resented me. I always
thought, if not for me, she would’ve never married my dad. I think she pictured
a different life for herself. One without me or my dad. After the accident, it
was only me keeping her down. I paid for that crime on a daily basis.”

“So is that the reason? Why you ran away?”

“In some ways. Hey, smell that? That’s the Tabasco peppers. We
don’t have much farther to go.”

Griffith caught the scent of the peppers, an almost tickling
sensation more than a smell, really. It sat right at the top of her nasal
passage and made her want to sneeze. It grew stronger the closer they got. A
cute little house appeared on the right side of the road with a barrier arm
just in front.

“What is this? A guard post?”

“It’s the toll booth.”

“This is a toll road?”

“No, but it’s a private road onto the island, so we stop here and
pay the toll. This lets the island officials know how many visitors are on the
island.”

“Hmm.”

They arrived at the visitors center soon after. It was a charming
old brick structure, a factory straight out of the 1920s. They went in and were
greeted by a local, describing the history of Tabasco. The bottling plant was
fun to watch, especially the large wooden mixing barrel. They were given sample
bottles of sauce.

“I never knew there was more than the red sauce,” Griffith said
as they exited into the store.

“Oh yeah, they have seven varieties. Here, this is the tasting
bar. We can try all of them.”

“Wow, they have Tabasco ice cream?”

“Yep, and Tabasco Coke too. But let’s try the sauces first.”

They dipped bread and chips into the individual sauce cups they
were given to try each variety. Griffith skipped the habanero, but Adi
indulged.

“Man, that’s hot-hot. But good.”

“You’re sweating and your face is red.”

“Hey, at least I’m not crying. Pass me some of that bread. A lot
of that bread.” Adi wiped sweat from her brow.

“I have a better idea. Let’s get the ice cream now.”

“There you go, but bread too, please?”

Griffith handed her last slice of French bread over to Adi. Their
fingers touched during the exchange and Griffith felt a jolt of electricity go
through her. Judging by Adi’s reaction, she felt it too. She grinned and led
the way to the ice cream bar. She ordered them each a scoop of the Tabasco
vanilla. Griffith scooped up a tiny spoonful and held it to Adi’s wide, sensual
mouth. She met Adi’s eyes, challenging her to taste.

“Here, you take the first bite.”

Adi’s cheeks flushed as she opened her mouth. Griffith slid the
spoon inside and held it while Adi sampled. She could feel the movement of
Adi’s tongue on the plastic spoon. It was almost erotic, this game of tasting.
I wonder if cayenne peppers are an
aphrodisiac.

“Let’s take this out to the patio to eat. There are some tables
out there,” Adi said.

They pushed through the door to the outdoor area. There were
tables and vendors selling even more food items with Tabasco as an ingredient.
Griffith looked around, surprised by the array.

“I had no idea pepper sauce could be so versatile. I think it’s
pretty amazing what they’ve done here.”

“I think you’re pretty amazing. Here, your turn for a bite.”

Griffith turned to the spoon Adi held up. She took it into her
mouth, savoring the sweet taste and sharp bite of pepper. She bit down on the
spoon, pulling it from Adi’s hand.

“Hey now, you’ve got your own spoon. Give me mine back.”

“Make me.”

“I’ll make you.” Adi pulled Griffith toward her and Griffith
prepared to be kissed. She was surprised when Adi’s hand sneaked under her
T-shirt and tickled her side. She laughed and tried to pull away, but Adi held
her fast.

“Stop, stop, I give up!” She laughed. Adi’s tickle turned into a
warm embrace that felt so right it shook Griffith to the core.

“You know, they have a new food tour you can take. It goes to all
sorts of eateries in Iberia Parish. They asked T’Claude if they could add the
Pot to the tour, but he didn’t want to commit to always having something with
Tabasco on the menu. I’d sign us up to take the tour, but I’d rather make fresh
food for you instead.”

Griffith smiled and reached for Adi’s hand. She doubted Adi
realized just how sweet she was. She felt Adi squeeze her back and was pleased
when she didn’t shake off the affectionate grasp.

I really
like her. She’s so genuine, and unjaded. So different from the women in LA. Is
that why I’m so attracted to her? I’ve been with women around the world, but no
one like her…Adi is just so…real
.

Whatever she was running from hadn’t taken that from her.
I could destroy that in her. I’ve
got to be so careful. No story is worth that. Not at any price.

“How about you take me to see the jungle gardens now?”

“Okay, we can do that. Just remember, I told you it’s not very
tropical.”

“That’s okay with me. I’ll enjoy it regardless.”

As they drove to the jungle area, Adi pointed out various birds
and plants. “There’s really just a dirt road that goes through the gardens. We
can stop and get out if we want to. There are a couple of fenced ponds that
probably have gators. Then there’s Bird City. It should be impressive this time
of year. The egrets should be nesting now.”

“Bird City?”

“Yeah, that’s the place old Mr. Ned made for the egrets to roost.
Back in the late 1800s the fashionable ladies all had hats with exotic plumage.
The egrets around here were almost eradicated through over hunting. Mr. Ned
McIlhenny founded Bird City to save them. It worked too. He brought eight young
egrets here and raised them in captivity. He released them in the fall for
migration to Mexico. They sure enough returned the following spring and brought
some friends with them. Now there are thousands of them who return every year.”

“Wow. That’s amazing. It’s great that he was a conservationist.
That surely wasn’t the fashion back then.”

“No, it wasn’t. Mr. Ned didn’t care what people thought of him.
He did things that pleased him for his own reasons. Wait until you see the
bamboo he cultivated. Oh, and Buddha, of course.”

“Tell me about Buddha.”

“Well, this Buddha is supposed to be from the twelfth century. It
was sent from China to New York in nineteen twenty when two warlords were
fighting over territory. The one who owned the Buddha didn’t want it damaged or
looted. Unfortunately, he never reclaimed the statue and it sat in a warehouse
for nineteen years. One day, two friends of Mr. Ned heard about the unclaimed
Buddha and bought it for him as a gift. They sent it down via rail car. Mr. Ned
built the whole Chinese garden around the Buddha.”

“I’ve never heard of it. Is it large?”

“It’s larger than life-size, but not too big. He built a pagoda
around it, and later, they glassed it in to protect it.”

“I definitely want to see that.”

“You will. Trust me.”

The gardens were beautiful to Griffith. The variety of flowering
plants was astounding. Adi pointed out that she was lucky that she was there
during the spring. Most of the year there weren’t nearly as many flowers. The
timber bamboo had to be four inches in diameter and more than fifty feet tall.

“You said it wouldn’t be tropical, but this…this is spectacular.
Can we get out and walk around?”

“Yes, I guess so. We just have to be careful. There may be snakes
in there.”

“Awesome. Let’s go.” Griffith jumped down from the cab of the
truck and headed straight into the bamboo stand. It was otherworldly walking
among the towering grass. Griffith felt connected to the earth here, in this
spot. There was energy here, a moist, sultry heat that danced along her limbs
and ran through her, out and up. She looked at Adi, hurrying over from the
truck, and wanted to send this primal wave of heat out to meet her.
If I touch her right now, we’ll be
swallowed up by this energy.

“Wait up, Griffith.” Adi hurried to catch up.

Griffith reached out and took her hand. She drew her into the
grove, and they stared up at the towering grass stalks. “Makes you feel kind of
small and insignificant, don’t they?”

“Yeah, they do. It kind of creeps me out being in here.”

“Really? Why? Are you scared?” Griffith felt alive here. Nothing
about it scared her. Adi’s reluctance puzzled her.

“No. Just not comfortable.”

How could she not feel the energy? Maybe she did, but it
frightened her because she didn’t have an experience to connect it to
. I need to turn that around. This
is good energy and she should know it.

“Well, I can fix that. Come here,” Griffith said. She pulled Adi
close to her. It was steamy hot in the bamboo and sweat coated her forearms and
her face.