Kya didn‘t stop or they would bolt, a lesson she‘d learned from watching wild turkeys: if you act like a predator, they act like prey. Just ignore them, keep going slow. She drifted by, and the deer stood as still as a pine until Kya disappeared beyond the salt grass. - P42
There‘d been no other people, not even distant boats, so it was asurprise when she entered the large estuary again, and there, closeagainst the marsh grass, was a boy fishing from another battered rig. Her course would take her only twenty feet from him. By now, shelooked every bit the swamp child-hair blown into tangles, dustycheeks streaked with wind-tears. - P43
Neither low gas nor storm threat gave her the same edgy feeling asseeing another person, especially a boy. Ma had told her older sisters towatch out for them; if you look tempting, men turn into predators. Squishing her lips tight, she thought, What am I gonna do? I gotta goright by him. - P43
From the corner of her eye, she saw he was thin, his golden curlsstuffed under a red baseball cap. Much older than she, eleven, maybetwelve. Her face was grim as she approached, but he smiled at her, warm and open, and touched the brim of his hat like a gentleman greeting a fine lady in a gown and bonnet. She nodded slightly, then lookedahead, increasing the throttle and passing him by. - P43
Another few minutes of creek brought a bend and the large estuaryahead, and on the other side, the boy in his boat. Egrets took flight, aline of white flags against the mounting gray clouds. She anchored himhard with her eyes. Afraid to go near him, afraid not to. Finally, sheturned across the estuary. - P44
"Oh, I‘ve been fishin‘ with Jodie some. I saw you a couple a‘ times. You were just a little kid. You‘re Kya, right?" Someone knew her name. She was taken aback. Felt anchored tosomething; released from something else. - P45
Alone, she‘d been scared, butthat was already humming as excitement. There was something else, too. The calmness of the boy. She‘d never known anybody to speak ormove so steady. So sure and easy. Just being near him, and not eventhat close, had eased her tightness. For the first time since Ma andJodie left, she breathed without pain; felt something other than thehurt. She needed this boat and that boy. - P46
His dad had told him many times that the definition of a realman is one who cries without shame, reads poetry with his heart, feelsopera in his soul, and does what‘s necessary to defend a woman. - P48
In his room, scanningthrough the poetry book for one to read in class, Tate found a poem byThomas Moore: ... she‘s gone to the Lake of the Dismal Swamp, Where, all night long, by a fire-fly lamp, She paddles her white canoe.
And her fire-fly lamp I soon shall see, And her paddle I soon shall hear; Long and loving our life shall be, And I‘ll hide the maid in a cypress tree, When the footstep of death is near.
The words made him think of Kya, Jodie‘s little sister. She‘d seemedso small and alone in the marsh‘s big sweep. He imagined his own sisterlost out there. His dad was right-poems made you feel something - P49
More and more Kya didn‘t talk to anybody but the gulls. She wondered if she could strike some bargain with Pa to use his boat. Out inthe marsh, she could collect feathers and shells and maybe see the boysometimes. She‘d never had a friend, but she could feel the use of it, thepull. They could boat around in the estuaries some, explore the fens. He might think of her as a little kid, but he knew his way around themarsh and might teach her. - P51
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