IX.

Eugene sat on the back steps watching the sky. The chestnut trees cast the yard in a weird twilight regardless of the time of day. Even when he could see the sun, it was hard to tell the hour. The days stretched endlessly in either direction, but the nights still came on with creeping inevitability. The insects whirred and the frogs sang and Eugene tried not to think too hard about anything. Maybe they would bury him there in the yard, before the floods came. Maybe they would drag him out to the bayou and let the gators disappear his body.

The porch door swung open and Nancy stepped out. Eugene glanced over his shoulder to see her without getting up. She paused there a moment, standing on the top step and gazing out over the yard like she was waiting for something. She didn’t like him much; he could tell. Waiting for him to make a run for it, maybe. He couldn’t see the point of running. His lungs would give out before he got too far anyway.

Before the door closed behind her, Eugene caught Monnet's raised voice snapping down from the second floor. He couldn't make out the words, but her tone was clear. Walker's response was a mere murmur before the door clicked shut and blocked them out.

"Everything all right in there?" Eugene asked.

Nancy's expression was pinched. "Best stay outside for a time. Angelique's raising some objection to your being here."

"I'd be happy to leave."

"What you do is none of my business, and I don't want it to be. I just open my door to Johnny when he asks. That's all."

“Aren’t you worried someone will come looking? If they think this place is abandoned, they must guess it would make a good hideout.”

“Nobody comes out this way. I don’t think anybody even remembers we exist.” She crossed her arms and shook her head. “For the best, I suppose. I can’t imagine anyone choosing to come around here, not anymore.”

“The floods?”

“The sound.” She nodded toward the line of trees at the back of the property, the ones so covered in moss they were practically part of the bayou already. “I hear it at night, above the frog song. Like a humming, I don’t know. It burrows right into my head, like a ringing in my ears. That damned infernal humming. You hear it?”

“Like a machine?” Eugene asked, knowing he was wrong.

“You’re lucky. You ever hear that noise . . .” She trailed off and shook her head again. “We won’t stay much longer. Just till it’s safe for Johnny and Angelique to move on.”

“How did you meet?”

“Oh, I know Johnny from way back, since I was a little girl,” she said vaguely. “A friend of the family. He knew my sister, back before—before she moved away.” She glanced back at the house. “There’s soup, if you’re hungry. Should be ready inside half an hour. They'll be done fighting by then.”