Somewhere in the vast swamps -- at least five times larger than in pre-flood times, but few remember that -- of the Confederate Empire raced a small narrow flat bottom boat carrying two men.

On its bow, manning it with the skill of someone who was born and raised in these treacherous waters, a tanned man laughed at the misery of his passenger. He popped open another beer can. "Hey, boy!" He taunted, "is this cool morning too much for ya?"

Gino wiped the rivers of sweat rolling down his sunburned face, burning his eyes, and looked back at the captain, who could not hide his pleasure. After gulping his beer, he added, "Ya ain't seen nothin'. In the summer it's 120 degrees and 100 humidity. Now that's sweatin' weather, I tell you what."

His smile went away when he saw his passenger wetting his handkerchief on the river, "Keep ya citifolk hands in the boat, boy. There are gators here big enough to swallow this boat whole that would love to make a supper out of ya." Seeing Gino putting his left arm back in, he added, "That's a good boy! Missus Toombs told me I should make damn sure to bring ya to her house, and I know better to disappoint 'er." He looked around and said half to himself, "she owns most of this land..."

Gino had a lot in his mind. Trying to figure out why one of the largest landowners in the Western hemisphere would have *asked*, not commanded, specifically for him in person occupied his thoughts a lot. How to sneak out after this meeting, for he was a wanted man in this country, would come in close second. And, of course there was the tantrum Marina made when she was told she could not come. But, that was the logical thing to do; she would not last long so far up into fresh water and amongst these people.

But, she was pissed.

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This is just a quick sketch I've done today, just trying to put down an idea. And, this is the first drawing I do in months...