Gumbeaux by Kimberly Vargas

of what to expect in the Deep South. This next part is unreal—he gave me a gun! Does he think I’ll be trapping furs with Cajun Pete or something? The only person I need protection from is Claude. Dante said going to Louisiana is like going to a parallel universe and one might as well go armed. He said everyone else would be. Then he handed me this tiny little gun which looked like a toy. He said, “Just a Derringer, see? No big deal. That’s a good gun for women. Very easy to handle.” Dante insisted that Dad would be upset if he didn’t do what he could to protect me. I tried to tell him I was just going to college and not appearing in a James Bond film, but he wouldn’t listen. “The gun is rather valuable, so make sure it doesn’t get into the wrong hands.” He wouldn’t reveal the prior owner’s identity. Our family is nuts. You can’t throw anything away for fear it once belonged to Napoleon or something. I am now in charge of what I can eat and drink, my own schedule and time, and with whom I can interact. Not having to get approval for every little thing has been exhilarating. This should be a good place to heal. No one knows me or my life situation. I’ve had a lot of time to think about who I want to be in my new life, and in my new identity of Veronica Fey. Veronica Fey is an art student at Audubon College. Veronica is fabulous, men dig her, and she’s an awesome artist. She is way cooler and more interesting than me. She’s going to live the life Mary Fait couldn’t possibly live