Short Story I Winning Entry of the 2024 Literary Festival Competition

Cinderella of the Bayou

By Rodney ‘Butch’ Bailey

There was, once upon a time, this woman who lost her prosthetic leg while floating on Bayou Teche, down in the deep southern part of Louisiana.

When we say floating, we could mean that in a lot of ways. Perhaps the woman’s floating was mental or emotional, some transcendent state akin to floating in a kind of out-of-body experience. Or it may have simply been that kind of physical floating with which we are all familiar, in some sort of aquatic craft…party barge, deck boat, kayak, pirogue, or even just the old stand-by, a huge inner-tube. It could be that she was floating both mentally and physically. All those ways of floating are often quite interesting, sometimes aided and abetted by prayer or meditation, and sometimes by wine, beer, or Southern Comfort. And while there is nothing inherently funny about losing a prosthetic leg while floating, what happened next, once the loss was discovered, is at least interesting.

Like most human stories, what we don’t know about the event dwarfs that which we do know. So for example, we don’t know if she had an untimely capsize of a boat, or whether she was floating on a tube or raft and the leg became unattached somehow. Or perhaps she was brandishing it for a weapon against a misbehaving drunk, and lost her grip. It could even be that she may have finished the whole day’s venture before she noticed the leg was missing. It is possible! An ensuing search, perhaps an exhausting search, may have proven futile. Bayou Teche, mysterious and murky, certainly contains more than just this one secret within its dark, slowly-moving waters.

But there are things we do know, or at least can reasonably surmise. The loss probably happened somewhere around or above the city of New Iberia. Currents being what they are on the bayou, the limb had probably not traveled far along the bottom. It was found at that big bend the bayou takes as it moves through New Iberia. We know it likely occurred in the early summer, after the annual Bayou Teche clean-up. Possibly it happened on one of the summer holiday week-ends. Independence Day week-end would be a good bet. These are days when we may witness swarms of people, sufficient to arouse envy in the locusts, descend on that lovely waterway with highly effective mood-enhancing treats, stored for the day in packs and ice chests.

We also know the liberated limb was salvaged by a young man who made it his practice, on days following the busy weekends, to search for treasure in scuba gear and with floodlights through the more popular stretches of the bayou. He made a pretty good living selling the Maui Jims, Yetis, caps, watches, binoculars, swim suits, and jewelry that he found with surprising regularity, at the bottom of the bayou. And now an artificial leg.

We are fortunate to have such young men in our midst, and when we hear the tired and angry elders lamenting the morality and work ethics of the upcoming generations, we would do well to remember his example. He made an immediate and deep commitment to find the owner of the prosthetic limb. He looked for identifying letters or inscriptions that would provide clues that might help him return the limb to its rightful owner. But if any mark had once existed, the mud and sand of the bayou had cleared it away. Other than that, he judged it to be in good condition, both cosmetically and functionally, and deemed it well worth the effort of getting the lost artifact back into the right hands.

He made a call to the parish sheriff’s office to let them know of the situation, and to learn if anyone had reported a missing artificial leg. The 911 call had ended up being more difficult than he had anticipated. “No, I did not take someone’s leg off. No, no one has been harmed…not really. Of course, I’ll give you my address. No, I do not need an ambulance. No, no one else needs an ambulance. Just tell me, has anyone called saying they are missing a leg?”

He really should not have been surprised, yet he was, when the sheriff’s deputy, and even the sheriff himself, showed up knocking loudly at his door. After introducing themselves, the deputy spoke, “We understand you have a situation here, something about a leg?”

The young man explained what had happened.

“Where’s the leg at now?” the deputy asked.

“It’s right over there on the pool table, but it’s not a leg. I wish you would quit saying that.” He turned back to the sheriff, “Sheriff Naquin, do you see my problem here?”

“I think I do, but I’m not sure if we’re going to be able to…..Jimmy Lee, what in the world are you doing?”

The deputy was outlining the leg on the pool table with yellow crime scene tape. “Just collecting and protecting evidence, Sheriff.”

“Take that tape off…no crime’s been committed here.”

“We don’t know that, Sheriff Roy.”

“The sheriff shook his head slowly, “Jimmy Lee, you still working on that online ‘How to be a Writer’ course?”

“You bet I am.”

“Good. Now take that tape off. And no, we’re not taking the leg with us for evidence!” Then turning to the young man, “Nowhere in the state of Louisiana is it a crime to find and claim ownership on an unattached appendage, especially an artificial one. If you find a way we can be of help, you call me, please. Me personally.”

If it had not previously been clear to the young man that he would have to do this by himself, it was certainly clear now. He went straight to work. He was rather adept at social media, and posted notices on several platforms in his attempt to contact the rightful owner. To his disappointment, this approach was rather unsuccessful. Not to be deterred, he took a state map and a compass and drew a circle 100 miles from where the limb had been found. Then in his spare time, of which he had a fair amount, he called on medical facilities that might conceivably have treated the woman who was missing the device. He made up a calling card that, however lacking in clarity, more than made up for it in good intentions:

‘If you are a woman who has lost a leg, and now have also lost an artificial leg while in the vicinity of Bayou Teche, please contact me via email or by Facebook, and I will bring your leg to you immediately.’

He provided his contact information, and left the cards at hospitals and orthopedic medical clinics from Morgan City to Lafayette.

Then he waited to hear what he expected would be a happy…maybe even tearfully happy… response, from an unknown person who appeared in his mind as a lovely young woman. A tender, and…based on the leg…shapely, young woman . As he waited, he imagined how that meeting, their first meeting, that predestined reunion, might unfold.

Over time, the young man found himself becoming more and more attached to this lovely sculpted object, this prosthetic limb. This woman’s leg. He studied and utilized various techniques for repairing some of the surface areas where the rocks and mud of the bayou had caused scarring or discoloration. As more time passed, he even went so far as to buy several pairs of women’s stockings and shoes, which, after throwing away the right shoe of each pair, he would fit and lace or buckle onto the foot of the limb. He bought several different types and colors of nail polish, and fussed with himself over which would be most attractive or appropriate for the occasions he conjured up…occasions they might even attend together.

He now kept the tender treasure on his sofa, with a knitted blanket over the very upper part, and the newly accentuated and attired foot extending in a slightly coy fashion from beneath the blanket. The idea of a tattoo…a perfect tattoo…had begun to drift into his mind. Place it boldly, or discreetly? A meaningful phrase of shared intimacy, or a strong symbol or picture that said everything, in a single glance?

As he continued his quest he became almost enraptured with this new world of possibilities. He felt sure that he would recognize the owner, because in his heart he knew what she must look like, he knew even how her voice would sound. He imagined the day when his question, “Where are you?” sent out by him into the very cosmos, would be answered, perhaps in a language only they could understand. Then he would finally look upon her face, and place the leg before her. Or, in his wildest imaginings, fit the leg himself onto the woman for whom it was made, his new love, his Cinderella of the Bayou.

SIDEBAR/BREAKOUT

Books Along The Teche Literary Festival Flash Fiction Writing Contest Winners

First Place

Cinderella of the Bayou

By Rodney ‘Butch’ Bailey

Second Place

Teche Tails: A Musical Discovery

By Christopher Grevemberg

Third Place – Tie

The Legend of Spanish Moss- A Tall Teche Tale

By Paul Schexnayder

A Teche Tale “The Treateur”

By Chris Warner