Johnny Gator Read Online Free PDF

amazement.   His back appeared absolutely normal.   She touched it and found it smooth beneath
her fingers.   “What in the hell happened?
A few minutes ago, this was messed up big time.”
    After
a shrug, he said, “I don’t know.   I can’t
tell you.”
    Doubting
what she knew she’d seen , Nola shook her head back and
forth. “I know I didn’t imagine it.”
    “What
it is?”
    A
burst of anger cut through her confusion and concern. “You know what! This skin
was rough and bumpy in patches, more like hide than skin…”
    Nola
went silent.   What she’d seen and touched
had been more like alligator skin than anything human.   But she knew that would be impossible.   Remembering how his left foot had appeared
odd, she glanced down.   It seemed normal
now, just a big, bare foot.   A vague
uneasiness crept over her.   I’m not sure how it connects or what I’m
trying to think here, but it’s insane, totally and certifiably nuts.   His secretive attitude fueled her fantasies,
though.
    Washed
clean, Johnny stood stark naked and met her gaze with those unfathomable
eyes.   After what seemed like a long
pause, he sighed. “I’m gonna go take a bath now, cher , and get cleaned up.   Then if you’re still here, we’ll talk.”
    It
was what she needed to hear but a chill shot through her body. “Do you
promise?” she asked.
    “ Oui .”
    A
sigh expanded from deep in her chest and blew from her mouth. “All right,” Nola
told him.   “I’ll wait.”
    Inside
his small home, Johnny bolted into the bathroom and shut the door.   Nola glanced around at the place, curious
despite her inner turmoil.   Everything
had a place, she noticed, and the neatness had an almost military
precision.   There were three rooms, a
large main one, with the kitchen tucked along one end and a bedroom.   She heard sounds coming from behind one of
the two doors, and guessed the first was the bath and   the second must be a closet.   One more room adjoined it and must have been
added on at a later time than the original construction.   She pushed through the half-open door and
found herself in his studio.
    Sunlight
streamed through the windows, and there were no curtains to block the view of
the lake.   An easel rested against one
wall.   Three blank canvases were beside
it, and she spotted the paintings along the opposite side of the room.   Unable to resist temptation, she walked over
and turned one around.  
    “Wow,”
she said.   It depicted a night scene on
the water, mysterious and almost eerie, yet heartbreakingly beautiful.   Spanish moss drifted down from the tall trees
like an old man’s beard above the almost-black waters.   Small details included an owl perched on a
branch and a lone gator swimming in the lake.   Nola hadn’t known what to expect from Johnny’s artwork but she hadn’t
thought his work would be this exquisite.   She looked through them all.   Caddo Lake figured prominently in each one, by day and night and in
every season.   Some focused on a
particular bird or creature of the wild backwaters.   A few were of the old cabins, like his and
her grandparents’.   Johnny had painted
fishermen on docks, pirogues gliding across the water, and a couple sharing a
kiss in the moonlight.   They were lovely
and captured the scenes so beautifully, though the last one disturbed
Nola.   Unlike the rest, the portrait
focused on a single person, an older woman with wild, white hair flowing over
her shoulders.   Her dark eyes seemed to
stare from the canvas with living force and dark malevolent power.   She turned it back toward the wall and wished
she hadn’t seen it.   Now it would haunt
her.
    “She’s
some gnarly, huh?” Johnny spoke from the doorway.
    Nola
whirled around.   He stood, dressed in his
usual faded blue jeans and a Western shirt, wet hair combed back from his
face.   His expression combined weariness
with wary tension.
    “Yes.
Who is she?”
    “Her
name is