She awoke one night suddenly but lay still beside Baptiste. She could see the trailing red arc of his cigarette in the darkness, and it made her feel lonesome. She wondered how long he had been awake. She heard the soft puff of his breath sigh. Louise pretended to sleep but she watched him. Baptiste got up from bed and stood for a while on the cold dirt floor. He looked out the window. She could see the moonlight on his skin. He rubbed the back of his neck and turned as if to look at her. In the darkness she could not see his expression. He slipped on his pants and grabbed his shirt. He left the room and closed the door behind him with a quiet click. For a moment there was a pale shaft of light beneath the door, then the light was gone. Louise sat up in bed. She heard Baptiste’s light footsteps on the porch. She wanted to move to the window, see where Baptiste was headed, but when she shifted her legs to stand she felt a cool draft moving close to the floor. She listened for the long curve of snakes beneath Baptiste’s sinking bed. Baptiste had left her.

She lay still for a long while and waited for the sun to rise. She listened. She could hear Dirty Swallow moving in her room. Louise raised herself up on one elbow. She had learned Dirty Swallow’s routine. Dirty Swallow would walk down to the outhouse and when she had finished her business she would head down to the river to wash her face. Louise was reluctant to swing her feet to the floor but she had to act quickly. She could see Baptiste’s worn belt hanging from the wall hook. She stood on the bed and strained to grab it. Her muscles were so tight and stiff it took her four tries to reach the silver buckle. She wriggled the belt beneath the bed. She expected a furious rattle and looked to see if anything sidled the floor. There was nothing under Baptiste’s bed, not even a lone sock or a pair of underwear.

She placed one foot down on the hard dirt floor and then the other. She glanced around the room, making sure to check under the old magazine she had dropped on the floor. The pale, green walls made the room seem damp and mossy. She pulled her dress over her head and grabbed her shoes. She listened for the sound of her husband’s voice, for Dirty Swallow’s return. The house was still.