Ch 24 - Old Boseman Had A Farm

The flight we were now on would take us back to

America. By ferry, we had returned to Cape Town, to the

airport where Keene had stolen the information from our

previous expedition. Perhaps the memory came to Lucy

too, because she tightly held the binder Fowler had given

her, as if at any moment the Doctor was going to snatch

the document from her hands and slide down the

escalator railing, disappearing soon after. But no, Keene

didn't seem to care this time; his eyes had a more glassy

appearance since Baruti Elya's death, as if Keene's own

eyes were dead. Now we would make a painfully long

trip, finally landing in Fort Myers, but not before making

two stops: one in Amsterdam and one in Atlanta, plus

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the 12-hour overnight stay. Our final destination, though,

was much further south than Fort Myers, near Ochopee.

Since the location was far away, we managed to get a

cab to Naples, but it would still be necessary to cover the

remaining 60 kilometers. When we finally arrived in

Naples, my back burned and Frost's bones crackled with

every movement.

The big city had the modern look that saddens

me so much, with its luxurious hotels and its parks of

trees neatly lined by human hands. Even what should be

natural was manufactured, making me feel my stomach

churn. I tried to turn my attention away from my

surroundings for a moment and asked Frost about our

next step.

— Well, — he said in a mysterious tone. — You

will arrive at the Boseman ranch in true Everglades style.

— We couldn't at the time imagine what he had in mind,

but soon it would be time to find out. We then drove

through town, without stopping at any of the points that

displeased my prejudice against human works, before we

returned to the natural creations. Right at the edge of the

city were the national parks, which stretched for miles

and miles, and, to exploit the visitors who wished, there

were also some vendors there, with their products

already on the water.

— An airboat? — Jacob Keene said with

surprise.

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— Yes, — Frost replied, a huge smile plastered

on his chubby face. — And since I'm present this time,

I'll take care of the expenses, Dr. Keene.

— Is that so? Well, this will be a first. — Frost

glared at Keene, who returned a haughty look to the

dean.

— Now listen, both of you, — Lucy said. — Can

you quit fighting for at least one trip? Fight on the next

one, but try not to do it on this one, please.

— She's right, Jacob, — Frost said, looking like

he was giving in. — These young people don't deserve to

be bothered by our differences, — and then, turning to

pay the salesman, he finished:

— Especially on a trip I'm paying for.

Lucy sighed with discouragement, finally giving

up on humankind, while Frederick finished the business

he was doing, already choosing the boat. As the only one

with experience in piloting, Keene then took his usual

command position, this time at the rear, leaving us the

seats in front of him, which were gradually lowered so as

not to obstruct the pilot's view.

— Well, do you know where the ranch is? —

Keene asked Frost.

— Why, of course, I have a map of the area here

and...

— God, no! Not another topographer!

— What's the matter, Jacob?

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— He's not into maps, Mr. Frost, — explained

Lucy.

— Oh, I see, — Frederick Frost replied, realizing

that Keene couldn't read maps.

— Don't worry about your displeasure, Jacob, —

he said emphatically. — Just follow the road into the

park and we'll be there soon.

Keene then activated the large propeller that

forced the vehicle and we accelerated up a huge hill of

vegetation that rose up over the flooded plain. This

served as a ramp for us to fly over the aquatic vegetation

and land in the water again, all accompanied by our cries

of excitement and old Frost's cries of dread.

— Sorry, Frederick! — Keene shouted over the

sound of the propeller, — I forgot to tell you to fasten

your seat belt! — This was followed by a controlled

laugh from Keene, loud enough to be heard despite the

noise of the propeller. When exactly had Jacob Keene

learned to laugh? The closest I had seen to a smile was

when Lucy made him curl his lips in Hluleka. Was it

possible that Lucy Lane had affected the taciturn

biomedical doctor that much? Anyway, Frost kept giving

directions to our pilot, although he kept his offended

expression. So that we wouldn't get lost in the maze of

aquatic vegetation, the dean directed us in a straight line,

following the road to our right. Although it was far away,

it was clearly visible, especially with all the vehicles that

used it. It was the park's own highway, the boundary of

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the protected territory for all the species that inhabited it.

This trip would cover 70 kilometers, which we would do

in about two hours in the fast boat we had obtained. I

must agree with Frost that we did it in high style, too,

because this distance was traveled by leaps and bounds,

as Keene had a predilection for using piles of vegetation

to glide to a chosen spot. Ahead of us, all the wildlife

fled, frightened by the noise our boat made; herons

taking flight and alligators hiding among the sawgrass.

When we had almost reached the perfect distance, Keene

called Frost:

— Hey! There's a road ahead of us!

— Turn left! — Lucy commanded.

The Dean looked at her with an expression that

said — How do you know that? — but he was unaware

of the fact that Lucy always studies the map when we

arrive at a new place. The road into the park would take

us about 15 kilometers into the area, taking us deep into

the cypress swamp forest. Here, the concentration of

trees forced Keene to slow down and keep an eye out,

not only to avoid bumping into a fallen trunk, but also to

avoid being attacked. Even from our lower seats, it was

possible to see some dark shapes in the tannin-dyed

water. Many of them remained motionless, but others,

which we thought were large sunken logs, suddenly

moved, following the direction the boat was taking.

Alligators can exceed two meters, being bigger than

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anyone on that boat. Of course, having this knowledge

only terrified me even more.

Very cautiously, we covered the remaining

distance as quickly as possible and arrived at what Frost

had called a ranch, which was in fact a grand dwelling.

The road we had seen before ended right in front of the

grid gate of the ranch, indicating that it had been created

specifically to provide access to the site. What kind of

person is so rich that he cannot bear the thought of being

stranded at home and can change this? Well, we would

soon find out. As we stopped the airboat at the side of

the dirt road, Keene came forward to get down and clap

his hands, standing a few steps away from the open gate.

We got off and followed him, but the owner was slow to

appear.

— What is it with these people? — His voice was

then interrupted by a deep and threatening growl coming

from the porch. Jacob's clapping had awakened a large

Rottweiler, stubby and muscular like none I had ever

seen before. The huge dog was still growling, exposing

its fangs and approaching us.

— L-Lucy? — said Keene's voice, now much

higher.

— Remain... relaxed, — she replied, perhaps not

so much to us as to herself.

The animal then walked calculatingly half the

distance between us, without stopping growling, and

then lunged towards Keene. Its strong legs covered the

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few meters between them in seconds, and the low bark

was ringing in our ears. The dog was already inches

away from jumping up and attacking Jacob.

— Sicarius! — shouted a hoarse voice from the

house. The huge beast stopped right in front of Keene

and sat down, merely sniffing the biomedical doctor's

leather shoes.

When we raised our eyes, we saw the source of the

voice. From the porch came a man, opening the

mosquito netting on the door and heading in our

direction. The fellow's eyes were as frightening as those

of Sicarius, his dog. His hair was short, curly and

completely white; his skin, also very pale, was marked

and the wrinkles around his eyes pressed them even

closer together, forcing an eternal look of distrust. A

camouflage hat shielded his eyesight, and an alligator

farm employee's uniform completed his look.

A machete tucked into its sheath adorned his

waist and a hand that seemed nervous to grab it was

enough to make us remain just as nervous.

— What do you want here? — shouted the man.

— I believe you're Mr. Boseman, — Frost

snapped forward. — You called us; we're Lane's team.

— Oh, you are? — The old man moved closer,

lessening the air of distrust, but not being able to change

his eyes. His hand finally let go of the machete handle

and he came to the farm gate. You could see a remnant

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of what had once been his mustache, the hairs now being

too white to form a respectable pattern.

— So which one of you is Lane? — asked

Boseman. Frost took a breath to explain, but Lucy

interrupted him, saying:

— That's me. Nice to meet you; Lucy Lane.

— You? — the man questioned, intrigued.

— Yes, Mr. Boseman. And this is my team — my

brother, our biomedical expert, and Mr. Frost, who is

funding the expedition.

— Odd... I thought you would be ...

— Older? Well, you can get experience in a few

years of life; you just have to use those years for

something useful, as you did with your business.

— Well, I guess you're right, — he yielded to

Lucy's flattery. — Anyway, come in; my wife is serving

dinner. Are you all right, partner? You look a little pale.

— With his eyes still fixed on the dog, Keene

stammered:

— I-I am. — With a slightly unsteady step, he

followed us into the ranch; Sicarius now trotted along

beside us, wagging his short tail.

The interior of the Boseman ranch was extremely

cozy, with every kind of upholstered armchair one could

dream of. Even more comforting was the pleasant aroma

that circulated through the house from the kitchen. The

only threat to the peace of that environment was the

alligator heads hanging on the walls, preserved as

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trophies, reminders of what this man considered to be

victories over the nature that provided his needs.

— You don't enjoy hunting, young man? — our

host asked. I was shocked, as I thought I had managed to

disguise my disgusted expression. Keene also had the

same reaction to hanging heads, but perhaps it was easier

to attack a youngster and let the adult listen.

— I don't approve of exaggeration, sir, — I

replied, without looking Boseman in the eye.

— If you are referring to waste, I assure you…

— What was that, Alexander? Why was Sicarius

barking that much? — asked a voice from the kitchen,

interrupting her husband's defense. From it came a

woman of approximately the same age as Alexander

Boseman, with the same marks covering her face, except

for the cruel wrinkles that deformed her husband's eyes.

An apron covered the front of her body and a heavy coat

covered everything else. In the hot climate of the

Everglades, Alma Boseman's outfit seemed odd, but the

silver hair hanging down the sides showed that the time

had come to feel cold even on the hottest days.

— These people make up the team we called,

Alma.

— Why, that's wonderful! Alexander has a

fabulous story to tell you over dinner. Come, come!

The lady's hospitality was so attractive that even

Keene returned to his original color, forgetting for a

moment the attack he had almost suffered. The kitchen

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table was made of solid wood, but much cheaper than

the one we saw in Jacob Keene's house. Here, however,

reigned a welcoming spirit that the biomedical doctor

would never have, even with all the opulence that

surrounded him. Before us, were placed plates with

heaps of breaded fritters, crispy and warm, accompanied

by a small bowl of vinaigrette to dip each piece in. The

frying was a lump of breaded meat; something between

fish and chicken that could be neither. Jacob made a face

of disgust before tasting it, while Frost ate it with gusto

and Lucy devoured hers.

— What a beautifully prepared dish, Mrs.

Boseman! — praised the dean. — Some kind of game

meat, perhaps?

— Why, no, — she replied in her sweet voice.

Alexander smiled and added:

— Remember what I said? No waste.

Keene was biting into his fritter at the moment he

heard this, and made a sharp noise, as if something was

hurting him intensely.

To take his eyes off the doctor, Frost coughed

lightly and introduced the subject:

— Well, I understand that we were called in to

investigate the sighting of a cryptid, right?

— Exactly, — Boseman confirmed. — This thing

has been attacking my alligator farm since we expanded

it.

— Oh, yeah? And how big was this expansion?

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— Twenty kilometers.

— Twenty kilometers? — Keene cut in. — But

that's much further than the boundaries of the national

park!

— I'll have you know this land was legally

purchased and is mine! I was fencing the perimeter and

increasing the space for my alligators when I heard a

commotion in the water. I went back to see what it was

and that's when I found...

— What did you find? — Lucy asked, stopping

eating for a second.

— One of my animals cut in half; that's what I

found! These alligators are my livelihood and now there

is something out there trying to steal from me? Well, I

will not shut up about it!

— On the phone you said you spotted the

predator, didn't you? — Frost asked.

— As indeed I did. It was a giant lizard, five and

a half meters long, plus a sail on its back. I went after it

with the machete, but it scampered into the cypress

thicket and ran away, taking my alligator with it. —

Alma Boseman held back a laugh.

— Come on, I know what I saw, okay? —

Alexander complained. — And now I want you to find

out for me what kind of animal that is! You don't usually

hurt the creatures you capture, do you? I wouldn't like to

see those animals be affected by my business. — I felt a

spark of hope when I thought that this man, as

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heat-hardened as he was in the swamp, still had affection

for animals. Perhaps he really wasn't all bad; after all,

even the meat he produced was put to good use, perhaps

to Jacob's dismay. The latter, by the way, was not content

with the explanation.

— If you care so much about animals, why did

you chase that one with a machete? — he questioned

Boseman, without even looking at the man.

— Because you don't need to attack a predator

for it to release its prey, partner. You ever had the

experience of having a python attack an animal you

own? Well, I have, and I'll tell you that I only had to hit

it a little bit before it uncoiled and released my gator.

Soon, it slid back into the water, and I went about my

business. You see? We do things very smoothly around

here, Mr...?

— Keene, Dr Keene.

— Oh, very well, Doctor, — Alexander said,

emphasizing Keene's title with contempt. — You see,

what comes before the name doesn't matter much around

here, but what comes after it does. My family built this

ranch, even before this place was called a park, so no

thug is going to stop me from using the land that is

rightfully mine!

— For God's sake, Alexander, calm down, — his

wife pleaded. In the same act, she pulled from an inner

pocket a small object surrounded by a casing. Alexander

received the object with a smile and opened it, revealing

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a candy, which was soon cut in half by the old man, who

deposited the remaining half on the table, revealing a

filling of creamy coconut shaving inside.

— Well, — said the Dean, wiping his mouth with

a napkin, — I guess we'll rest, then; we'll get an early

start in the morning.

— Now, I'll show you to your rooms, please

follow me, — said our hostess. The path to our rooms

was lined with clotheslines and embroidery spread

throughout the house — all the work of the patient old

lady who was now leading us through a corridor.

— I'm afraid we don't have many rooms, but

perhaps enough. — Alma's voice sounded apologetic.

When we got to the first room, there was a large wooden

bunk bed; every detail of it freshly painted and the sheets

smelled like lavender even from a distance.

— Alexander warned me that it would be a team,

but he had no idea how many were in it. I took the

liberty of preparing the bunk to await them, then.

— The top one is mine! — Lucy said

enthusiastically, immediately running and jumping up to

reach the mattress, without using the stairs. Alma

laughed at Lucy's manner, while I made my way to my

mattress, happy to have the lower one, but showing no

such glee. No one needed to know that I feared falling at

night.

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The entourage made their way to the next door,

where after a few seconds, I heard Frost's voice rising

again.

— You can't possibly be so selfish! — shouted

the dean. A weaker voice answered:

— And you think I can sleep near that beast

outside? Didn't you see how he tried to devour me

earlier?

— Too bad he failed! — Shouting these words,

the president returned, stamping his feet, and passed in

front of our door, followed by Mrs. Boseman, to whom

he apologized:

— I'm sorry you had to hear that, ma'am. My

colleague and I need to settle some matters.

We heard Frederick Frost's heavy footsteps pass

through the kitchen and his still dismayed voice bid

goodnight to Alexander, who was at the table. When

Alma came through our bedroom door again, I asked

her:

— Mrs. Boseman? What was all that about?

— Oh, dear; unfortunately we only had one more

bed and I told your colleagues that they would have to

choose who gets it. The other option is the old rocking

chair outside. It seems that the long-haired boy was not

willing to give in. Anyway, it all worked out. Good

night, dears. — With that, she went to her room, leaving

our door open.

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— Do you think he'll be all right out there with

Sicarius? — I asked Lucy.

— He will...it's summer and that dog wouldn't

hurt his own fleas. Wait a minute, what is this under my

pillow? Kevin! Check yours!

As I moved to sit up in bed, I heard the same

sound and lifted my pillow to see what it was. There was

a handful of coconut candy beneath it.