“They have more room. We’d have to fill in a crawfish pond.”“Don’t do that,” Deena instructed. “John’s supplying the crawfish for tomo...row...”John Saucier was the enterprising crawfish farmer who leased the acreage on both sides of the airstrip, starting halfway down on both sides. We’ve watched him doing his thing, weird little boat running back and forth, John or one of his hired guys – he’s a real farmer – picking up each trap, dumping the unfortunate crawfish into a tub. Later they get. His pants were about him,baggy, like some sort of gangsta kid.Steve's joy at the vanity set was short lived. To him it was obvious,that the toy he so desired must be cursed. Now it must be protected atall cost, lest it injure him further. With careful effort he got it intothe house. Stories of Ponce De Leone, filled his head. He did not thinkit was the carny dog and lemon-less lemonade he had for lunch at the dollshow. It had to be the necessarie that was shrinking him. Or at lestcausing. More

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