Animal sounds surrounded us, making my ears twitch as the boat’s motor hummed, catapulting us through the murky water. “Do you have life jackets in here?” I asked. He shook his head. “You don’t want that. It will only make the gators more interested in you.” He winked. Give me mountains any day. I hated water. We seemed to go on forever before a tiny, weathered cabin on stilts came into view and Dempsey started to slow down. He tied the boat to a half-rotten dock, and offered me his hand to help me out. Water surrounded the house. What did he have against dry land? I ignored his hand, taking large hopping steps off the deck and up the equally unsafe stairs. “Where are we?” I asked at the top of the stairs, my fingernails digging into the railing. “It was my grandfather’s,” he said. “No one will find us here unless they have a boat, and then we’ll hear them coming.
