Coot saw Marigold walking toward him. She carried a basket under one arm, her daughter walking close beside her beneath the other. Tailing them was a dog with very long ears and a big appetite. The two women had heads of hair that were the same shade in the setting sunlight. Like fire.

Marigold was watching Coot too. She stopped and their eyes locked on one another. Coot lifted his arm to wave at her. She waved back at him. She came near to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. He kissed her, and she kissed him back. He felt the closeness of her, and it was almost too much to bear. It was so rewarding it was almost dreamlike.

“I take that back,” said Joseph. “You’re doing better than I am.”

One Hundred
Hollering

Rabbit Creek forked from the bay water and meandered through the thicket of cypress trees that poked from the water like little men, bearing the weight of their limbs. The longleaf pines looked purple in the distance. The live oaks were towering high, snaking their branches over the surface of the water.

There was a noise in the distance.

Marigold listened to Stringbean howl. The dog let out low, happy howls. She smiled at the dog. The animal’s black-and-tan fur dripped with bay water that turned her hair into a curly mess. The animal had been swimming in the water all morning. Marigold never had so much fun, watching an animal play without holding back. She’d been tossing sticks for the dog to chase, and felt sorry that she’d gone almost an entire life without knowing the simple pleasures of a dog.

Ruth was beside her. Ruth hollered at the dog, and her voice cut through the air like a mother’s voice.

“Get over here, Bean!” said Ruth, patting her thighs. “C’mon, girl!”

Her shouts bounced off the bay water and were met with the sound of a dog’s paws clomping on the earth in a dead sprint. Marigold watched the animal gallop toward home, and it was stunning to see the muscles of the animal, flexed in the full sunlight.

The dog neared them and shook her coat. Water flung in all directions like a sideways thunderstorm.

She felt something stir inside her. How she felt when she watched the storms that used to flood the creek behind Cowikee’s. The rains would fill the creek so high that the brown water would become level with the earth, and it was almost impossible to tell where the creek began and the earth ended. It always made her feel good to see so much rain falling at once. It made her grateful. It was a gift from the heavens to the earth. A simple gift. That’s how she felt now. She felt like she’d been given a drink of water that filled her from the inside.