Where the Crawdads Sing tells the harrowing story of Catherine Daniel Clark, “Kya,” and her will to survive in the marshes along the North Carolina coast. With poetic prose, the author, Delia Owens, details the natural world and wildlife and the ways in which all creatures learn to love and communicate.
When Kya was just six years old, her mother, Ma, walked out of the tiny shack Kya shared with her four siblings and parents, and Ma never came back. Kya’s father, Pa, was an abusive alcoholic, and over the next weeks, he would drive away all of Kya’s older siblings, including her beloved brother and mentor Jodie.
Kya didn’t understand what made everyone leave or why they didn’t take her with them. Even though Pa was mean, he was all she had left, and she was desperate to make him stay. She took over the household duties—cleaning, doing the laundry, and cooking. For a few months, things were good for Kya and Pa. He appreciated how hard she worked to make a nice home, drank less often, and stayed home more.
Kya was sure things would be different when her mother decided to return. But after a letter arrived in her mother’s handwriting, Pa turned back into the drunk monster he was. He stayed away from home more and more, until one day he never came back. Kya was on her own.
Kya only attended one day of school in her life. Whenever the truant officer came looking for her, she hid in the woods behind her shack. Without Pa, Kya had no money or food. She started digging for mussels before dawn and sold them to Jumpin’, an old black man who owned a gas and supply store on a wharf near her marsh. Jumpin’ bought Kya’s mussels and continued to do so over the years. He and his wife, Mabel, also collected clothes, toiletries, and shoes for Kya from members of their church. A deep bond formed as the couple began to care for Kya as one of their own.
With Jumpin’ and Mabel’s help, Kya was able to survive her childhood alone in the marsh. She grew into a natural navigator and expert of marsh life, collecting various specimens, such as feathers, bones, nests, and shells. She used an old guidebook to identify the species of each and placed each item next to paintings she made. She didn’t know their names, however, because she still couldn’t read.
When Kya was fourteen, she found a feather stuck in a stump. She suspected it had come from a boy she’d seen running by a few moments before. The feather was rare, and the next day there was another. A game proceeded, with each leaving feathers for the other, until one day, Kya finally met the boy. His name was Tate, and he’d been an old friend of Jodie’s.
Tate and Kya grew close quickly. He taught her to read, count, and connect with someone without fear. He was the first person since her family left that Kya let into her heart, and they fell in love. Tate visited her marsh whenever he could, and their bond grew deeper. A year later, Kya was crushed when Tate left for college. He promised to come back for her, but he never did. Once again, she’d been abandoned by someone she loved, and loneliness swallowed her up.
Kya was ostracized by the townspeople of Barkley Cove. Everyone held a low opinion about people from the marsh, and rumors about the crazy Marsh Girl were common. Sometimes, Kya would see kids her age playing on one of the beaches between her marsh and town, and she’d watch, wishing she could be with them. One of these kids was a boy named Chase Andrews, the star quarterback for the local high school.
When Kya was nineteen, Chase caught her hiding behind a tree watching him and his friends. He smiled, and that small connection stirred something inside of her. When Chase asked her to go out, Kya apprehensively said yes. Tate had never returned, and she was afraid of letting someone in again, but her body longed to be touched. However, when Chase became aggressive on their first date, Kya pushed him off and ran away. He apologized and said it would never happen again. She decided to give him another shot.
Chase kept his promise about physical intimacy, having become enchanted by the strange, beautiful Marsh Girl, and he and Kya dated for over a year. But his life in town was separate, and although Kya didn’t realize it, Chase was dating other women and bragging about their escapades to his friends. Toward the end of the first year, Chase asked Kya to join him on a weekend away. He’d been talking of marriage lately, and she didn’t want to lose whatever connection they had. She agreed to go with him and understood that it was time to give him her virginity.
Everything changed after Chase finally slept with Kya. His visits became more sporadic, but he continued to talk of marriage and building her a house. Kya floated along with this dream, believing she’d finally have a family. Then, she saw an announcement in the local paper about Chase’s engagement to another woman and fell apart. She vowed never to let anyone in again.
One day, after not seeing Kya for several years, Tate came back and tried to win Kya’s forgiveness. Tate had reasoned that Kya would never belong in his new academic world, but he hadn’t had the courage to break up with her. He’d just disappeared. But after realizing he loved her more than anyone he’d met at college, he decided the rest of it didn’t matter. He wanted her back. He apologized to Kya for leaving her and said he still loved her. Kya wanted to believe him, but she knew she would never trust him again. Still, they became friends, and Tate helped Kya publish a book based on her meticulous collection of marsh specimens, which now were organized like a university research lab. With the money from the book, Kya was able to renovate the shack and stop digging for mussels.
Three years after Kya broke up with Chase, he attacked her when he found her alone in a cove down the shore from her marsh. He wanted to prove she was his and that he could have her whenever he wanted. Kya was able to escape, but not without being bruised and bloody from the attempted sexual assault. She hid her injuries from Tate and Jumpin’ for as long as she could, but even after they found out, there was nothing to do. No one would believe the Marsh Girl over Chase Andrews.
Kya’s fears that Chase would come after her again were appeased when his body was found underneath an old fire tower in a swamp on the other side of Barkley Cove. The town sheriff and deputy investigated the scene and found no evidence, not even Chase’s fingerprints or footprints. They decided Chase had been pushed from the tower and the crime cleaned up.
The town was up in arms about the local hero’s death, and many pointed a finger at the Marsh Girl. They’d heard rumors about her and Chase and assumed she was a woman scorned. There was also a question about a missing shell necklace that Kya had given him, which Chase always wore. The most damning evidence was red fibers on the body that matched a red hat found at Kya’s shack. Kya was arrested and charged with first-degree murder.
The death penalty was on the line as Kya’s case went to trial. Kya had a good alibi for the night Chase died. She’d gone to a nearby town to meet her book editor and hadn’t returned until after he was dead. But the sheriff was eager to pin the murder on her, and the prosecution claimed there was time for Kya to travel back and forth between towns and commit the murder. Several witnesses came forward and testified to seeing Kya in the area. It didn’t look good for her.
Kya’s defense attorney was a local retired man who took her case pro bono. He’d grown up hearing the terrible things people said about the Marsh Girl and knew she would face severe prejudice. He found people to support Kya’s alibi and ripped apart the prosecution’s case.
The trial went on for days, with Tate, Jumpin’, and Mabel supporting Kya through the whole thing. Kya languished in prison, afraid she’d never be able to be back on her land. So when a verdict of not guilty was announced, Kya rushed back home and never left her marsh again.
Tate and Kya came back together after the trial and lived the rest of their lives together on the marsh. When Kya was sixty-four, Tate found her lying in her boat in one of their lagoons. She had passed away peacefully.
The whole community showed up for Kya’s funeral. They’d felt ashamed for how they’d treated her and for condemning her during the trial. She was now a renowned expert of marsh life and author of seven books. When the mourners left, Tate noticed a hidden compartment under the kitchen floor. Inside, he found Chase’s shell necklace. He realized everything the prosecution said was actually true. Tate put the shell back into the sea, hiding Kya’s secret forever.
A swamp should not be mistaken for a marsh. A marsh is alive, full of light, winged birds, and grasses stretching through glistening water toward the sky. The marsh meets with the sea and holds various creeks and lagoons that reach like fingers for the open water.
A swamp, however, is devoid of light and life. It lies in the dark, and life decays and transforms into its most basic cellular level in stagnant, fetid water. It was fitting, then, when the body of Chase Andrews was discovered on October 30, 1969, in a swamp along coastal North Carolina.
If it hadn’t been for two boys from town, who found the body below the old fire tower, the body would have continued to decompose and sink into the muddy water. The swamp would have enveloped it without circumstance or judgment. After all, it was just another mass of cells returning to the earth.
Kya was six years old when her ma walked out of the house one morning, slamming the porch door on her way out. Kya was used to seeing Ma walk down the long dirt lane leading from their house to the ruddy road into town. This day, like all the others, Kya ran to the porch to wait for Ma to turn back at the bend and wave. Kya noticed that Ma was carrying a suitcase and wearing her fancy faux-alligator-skin heels. At the bend, Ma didn’t turn and wave. Kya ran to a part of the field where the road to town becomes visible, but all Kya saw was the end of the suitcase disappearing behind a bush.
Her older brother Jodie, the youngest of Kya’s four older siblings, stood with her. He promised that Ma would return, that mothers don’t abandon their children. But he didn’t sound convinced. Jodie was seven years older and had always been Kya’s mentor of sorts, teaching her about marsh wildlife and how to navigate the waterways in Pa’s boat. Kya wanted to believe him, but she sensed the suitcase and heels told a different story.
Kya’s family home was a shack on a large plot of land a few miles outside the main town of Barkley Cove. The land was surrounded by palmettos, lagoons and channels that curled like gnarled fingers through the marsh, a forest of oak trees on one side, and the Atlantic ocean on the other.
Pa had come to the land by way of inheritance and taken residence in the shabby lean-to made from palmettos. He was a WWII vet on disability because of a leg injury sustained during the war. He walked with a limp, was a hard drinker, and was an even harder man to stomach around the house.
Kya had become used to her parents fighting. But Ma had never left for more than a day or two before. She was positive she’d see Ma—so loving and kind—walk back up the dirt lane soon.
That night, Kya couldn’t stop thinking about mornings with Ma, when she’d wake up to the smell of frying fatback, grits on the stove, and biscuits baking in the wood oven. On those mornings, she would hug Kya and call her a special girl. Ma would sing folk songs or nursery rhymes, or the two would clasp hands and dance around the kitchen.
Kya should have known something was off that morning. Ma had been silent when she made breakfast. She didn’t smile, and her vacant eyes were bloodshot. A discolored bruise had formed across her forehead. The breakfast dishes still sat in the sink. Ma had left without washing up.
Kya took up her watchpost on the porch the next morning and the morning after that. Jodie tried to cheer her up with a make-believe games about explorers. His distraction worked for a while, but Kya’s thoughts turned back to Ma. All she wanted to do was wait for Ma to come around the bend. She didn’t cry. She was stoic, staring at the empty lane.
In just a few weeks, Pa would drive each of Kya’s teenage siblings away. His drunken rages turned into violent assaults, and each child—Missy, Murph, and Mandy (as Kya, later in life, would remember them, forgetting their real names)―found themselves on the receiving end of a punch or slap across the face.
One morning, with just Kya and Jodie left in the house, Kya awoke to the familiar sounds of breakfast cooking and rushed to see the glorious return of Ma. But it was only Jodie making grits and eggs. They kept quiet so as not to wake Pa.
After breakfast, the children set out to play in the marsh. They hadn’t run far from the shack when the sloppy torrent of Pa’s voice echoed from the porch. Kya wanted to hide in the overgrowth, but Jodie said everything would be fine.
When Jodie found Kya watching the sea at sunset on their private beach, she didn’t have to see his face to know Pa had punched him in the mouth. The way he talked indicated as much. Kya knew what was coming before Jodie even told her he was leaving home.
Kya wanted to tell him to stay or take her with him. She didn’t want to be left with only Pa to rely on, but she froze, unable to make the words come out. Jodie told her to be careful and hide in the marsh if anyone, even Pa, tried to do anything to her. Then, he turned and walked away.
Her first night alone in the shack was a trying one for six-year-old Kya. The kitchen, once lively with voices and warm from the wood stove, was stark and cold when she went to find something to eat. She heated up leftover grits and waited for Pa to come home.
When it got late, she crawled onto her mattress on the floor of the screened-in porch and tried to sleep. At first, the night scared her, and she woke thinking she heard footsteps. But soon, the familiar sounds of the marsh life lulled her to sleep.
Pa didn’t come home for another three days. When he finally stumbled in on the fourth night drunk, he staggered around, asking where everybody was. He called Kya names and raged around the house. Kya ran to the beach for safety, but she smelled smoke after a few minutes. When she ran back to the house, she found Pa in front of a large bonfire burning everything that had belonged to Ma. Ma’s paintings (Ma had been a wonderful artist), dresses, and books disintegrated in the blaze.
Kya ran to block Pa’s entrance into the shack, refusing to let him pass to get more of Ma’s possessions. He reached back to slap her, but instead, he stumbled away and climbed into his fishing boat. After that night, Kya kept a safe distance from Pa.
The only income the family had was Pa’s disability checks from the Army. He took most of the money for himself, but he gave Kya a dollar and some change to buy food in exchange for her taking on the role of woman-of-the-house: cleaning, doing the laundry, stockpiling wood for the stove, and cooking all the meals.
For the first time in her life, Kya walked the four miles to Barkley Cove. The town was small and surrounded by everglades. Along the waterfront was Main Street, which held a handful of shops, such as the Piggly Wiggly, a Western Auto parts store, a diner, a bakery, and the Dog-Gone beer hall. All the buildings were weathered from years of salt spray and wind off the ocean.
Barefoot and awkward in overalls too small for her long frame, Kya nervously entered town. The town folk carried low opinions of the marsh dwellers, and she was afraid of people seeing her. She also didn’t know how to count past twenty-nine, and figuring the change for the groceries felt scarier than talking to strangers.
When she arrived on Main Street, three boys nearly ran her over on their bikes. A local fabric store owner, Miss Pansy Price, scolded the boys after they nearly ran into her, too, and Kya heard her call one of them Chase Andrews and refer to Kya as swamp trash. Kya recognized Chase as the son of the family who owned Western Auto.
After the boys left, Kya scurried inside the Piggly Wiggly. She grabbed a bag of grits and took it to the counter. When Mrs. Singletary—the soft and sympathetic clerk—counted out change into her tiny hand, Kya was stunned to still have money. She took the bag and ran all the way home.
Kya had never cooked before, but after a disastrous first attempt at making grits, she figured it out. She foraged turnip greens from Ma’s garden and boiled them in a pot. Pa stayed out of her way, and she stayed out of his. Sometimes, they’d go for days circling around each other and never talking. She kept the house clean like he asked, but mostly she wanted it to look nice for when Ma returned.
The only thing Kya knew about her birthday was that the autumn moon hung high in the sky around that time. When she saw it one night, she assumed she was now seven. She was sure Ma would come back for her birthday, so she dressed up in the only dress she owned and waited.
Once again, Ma didn’t show up. Kya stood from the porch and took the grits to the beach. She loved to feed the sea birds, loved how they circled above her and dove down to peck grits from the ground and her hands. She spent her first birthday without Ma in the company of birds.
Kya had gotten used to hiding in the overgrowth of the marsh for safety, just as Jodie had taught her. So when she heard the sounds of a car coming up the dirt lane to their shack, that’s exactly what she did. From the brush, Kya watched a man and woman step out of the car and walk up the steps to the porch.
The woman called through the screen door, announcing she was there to take Kya to school. Kya was desperate to learn to read and find out what came after twenty-nine, but she was afraid of other kids. But when the woman, Mrs. Culpepper, yelled that Kya could get a hot lunch, Kya’s hunger won out. She stepped forward and allowed herself to be taken to school.
Kya was placed in the second grade despite never attending a day of school in her life because they couldn’t find her birth certificate. The classroom held twelve other students, most of them dressed in clean clothes and shoes, and Kya had never seen so many people in one room before. She took a seat in the back of the class, barefoot and in a soiled dress.
When the teacher asked Kya to spell “dog,” she searched her mind for the lessons Ma and Jodie had given her about letters. She wavered and blurted out “G-O-D,” causing the rest of the class to howl with laughter.
When it was time for lunch, the smell of chicken pie, with its warm flaky crust and thick gravy, made Kya’s mouth water. She couldn’t believe the amount of food the lunch workers had put on her tray: a heaping mound of pie, peas, a yeast roll, banana pudding, and a carton of milk.
The cafeteria was full of all the kids from grades first through twelfth, and everybody had someone to sit with. Kya, avoiding the other faces, especially those of Chase Andrews and his friends, sat at an empty table by herself. At one point, a group of girls wearing blossoming skirts walked in her direction, and Kya braced in anticipation of their company. But the girls bounced past, ignoring her like everyone else.
Despite her gut-wrenching hunger, Kya was too nervous to eat, so she drank the milk and shoved the rest of the pie in the carton. She kept her mouth shut the rest of the day, not wanting to give the other kids more ammunition to make fun of her, but it didn’t matter. After school, as the bus drove down the ruddy road to the marsh, the kids, including the girls from lunch (who she named Tallskinnyblonde and Roundchubbycheeks), teased Kya, calling her swamp rat.
Kya ran the three miles from the bus stop to the shack and went straight to the beach. With tears streaming down her face, she fed the swirling and diving birds the chicken pie from lunch. The birds were her only friends, and she wished she could stay with them forever.
Mrs. Culpepper was back at the shack two days later searching for Kya. This time, Kya created decoy tracks in the mud and stayed out of sight. Every few days or so, the car would bound down the lane, and the search for Kya would ensue. But after a few weeks, Mrs. Culpepper stopped coming. Kya never went back to school.
Weeks then months passed, and each morning, Kya still woke hoping to find Ma making breakfast. Pa stayed out of the house more and more, staying away for a week or more at a time. Without money or food, Kya ate Crisco slathered on soda crackers for nourishment. With no one around to love her, Kya turned to the land—the fields and lagoons of the marsh― for comfort. The land wouldn’t leave her, and she would never leave it.
Pa finally came home and told Kya he was headed to Asheville to speak with the disability officers about increasing his checks. He’d be gone for four days. Kya watched him limp down the lane, the same one that had taken all of her family away. But this time, Pa looked back and gave a short wave. She hoped this was a good sign.
After Pa left, Kya wandered the lagoon until she was standing next to Pa’s boat. She’d never been out in the boat alone before, but Jodie had shown her how to steer it and navigate some of the channels around their property. It was risky to take Pa’s boat, especially if he found out, but she felt drawn to the water. She checked the gas and reckoned there was enough for a quick joyride.
Kya remembered a little bit about how to get through the winding waterways and made her way to the edge of the large estuary stretching toward the horizon. She could tell by the water lines that the tide was going out, and if she didn’t make it back soon, she’d be stranded. Thunderclouds appeared in the distance, and she grew scared.
Making her way back through the channels, Kya came across a sight more disturbing than the storm clouds rolling in. Across the water she saw a boy fishing from another boat. He was a few years older, with blond hair covered by a red cap. Kya didn’t want the boy to see her, but she had to motor right past him to make it home. When she did, she tried to be inconspicuous, but the boy turned and gave her a gentlemanly tip of his cap and a friendly smile.
Once past the boy, Kya got lost. She couldn’t find the right series of turns to make it back to her lagoon, and she was running low on gas. Fear settled in. Her only choice was to ask the boy for help. As it turned out, the boy had known Jodie and knew Kya’s name. Kya beamed, surprised by how good it felt to be known by someone in the world. A small portion of her sadness lifted. The boy showed her the way home, introduced himself as Tate, and motored away.
Something changed in Kya after seeing Tate. She felt grounded by his calm demeanor and openness, and she longed to see him again.
Tate lived in town with his father, Scupper, who operated The Cherry Pie, a red shrimping boat. Tate’s mother and sister had died in a car accident in a nearby town a few years back, and since then, father and son lived mostly the same routine. Scupper had a love of opera, and each evening after docking his boat in Barkley Cove’s marina, he and Tate would listen to opera records while cleaning it.
The night after Tate saw Kya, he and Scupper finished cleaning the boat and went home for dinner. Tate told his father about school, saying he didn’t much care for the poetry section they were studying in English. His father told Tate not to dismiss poetry. It made you feel something, and there was nothing wrong with a man feeling things. Scupper told Tate real men weren’t afraid to show emotion, could find beauty in poetry and opera, and would always stand up for a woman in need.
Scupper recited a poem Tate’s mother had loved. It was about a young man meeting his love on a lake and hiding her from death in the trees. Tate thought of Kya and how scared and alone she seemed out in the marsh. His dad was right. The poem had made him feel something.
The only people Kya ever spoke to were Pa and Mrs. Singletary at the Piggly Wiggly, who was teaching her how to count coins. Her only friends were the birds she fed on the beach, but after seeing Tate, she couldn’t stop thinking about what it might be like to have a real friend. She would have to figure out some way to get Pa to let her use the boat again.
She figured if she did her part around the house, she could convince Pa to let her take the boat out. So the day after her joyride, Kya cleaned the shack from top to bottom. She scrubbed the kitchen surfaces until they shone, washed the laundry, and walked to town for groceries and gas. Then, she polished Pa’s boat until it reflected the sun.
Kya sat on the porch and waited for Pa to return four days after he left. With each passing hour, she started to fear he’d run off, too. Then, with dusk waning, Pa turned the corner of the bend and headed up the lane. Kya rushed inside to stand next to the kitchen table, where she’d laid out a stew of greens and backbone and a pan of cornbread. The table was set for two with knives on the right and forks on the left, as she’d seen Ma do.
Pa marched into the house and stomped into his bedroom without acknowledging Kya. After noticing the fresh smell and clean sheets, he came into the kitchen and saw what she’d done. Something in Pa changed at the sight, and Kya could tell he was sober.
The two ate dinner at the table like a family. They didn’t talk except when Pa offered a rare compliment. Kya waited until they were almost finished with supper before she asked Pa if she could go fishing with him sometime. She thought it was safer than asking to use the boat by herself. Things were going so well, she didn’t want to ruin it.
The next day, Pa took Kya in the boat and taught her how to fish. He didn’t talk about anything but fishing, but he was calm and steady. When Pa helped her pull in a fish, he smiled for the first time and looked at her with such tenderness, she felt like a connection had been made between them.
Kya and Pa went fishing again the following day, and she amassed a small collection of feathers, a hummingbird nest, and other natural trinkets. After a dinner of fried fish and greens, Pa gave her his Army backpack to put her collectibles in, the first present he’d ever given her.
For the next couple of months, things were good between Kya and Pa. They went out fishing almost every day, and she’d pack a picnic for the boat. Many days, Pa would stay sober through the afternoon. He told her stories about his family and the old tobacco farm they once owned near Asheville. Kya loved hearing these stories about distant relations. But most of all, she loved feeling like a family again with Pa.
Winter became spring, and spring grew into summer. It was 1953, and Pa and Kya had settled into their new life together. They ate meals at the table, talked, and sometimes played gin rummy after dinner.
Pa started to take her places, too. On one occasion, he took her to Jumpin’s Gas and Bait, a filling station and fishing shop that sat along the shore between the marsh and Barkley Cove. The shop was a shack on a floating wharf held in place by a cable tied around a tree. Jumpin’ was an old black man with gray hair. He lived in Colored Town, a small Black community located outside of town. He was kind to Kya, as he was with everyone who came to fill up their boats.
On another night, Pa took Kya into town for supper at the local diner. Kya had never been to a restaurant before. Before they went inside, she tried to clean the mud off her dingy clothes and smooth her wild black mane down. Pa ignored the snide looks and comments from the other patrons and ordered them a feast for dinner, including blackberry cobbler for dessert.
Kya waited outside the diner while Pa paid the bill. A small voice said hello, and she turned to find a four-year-old girl in a snazzy dress and blonde ringlets holding her small hand out. Kya was afraid to touch the little girl because of how clean she was, but she extended her hand anyway. Before they could shake, however, Teresa White, the preacher’s wife, burst from a store and shooed Kya away. Mrs. White warned her little daughter not to go near the Marsh Girl because she was dirty. Kya didn’t have time to be offended, preoccupied as she was watching a mother show love to her child.
Kya still hoped Ma would return someday. Now that Pa was being civil and engaged, she reckoned things would be better at home if everyone came back. He wouldn’t hit Ma over and over until she fell in a heap anymore. Things would be different. They could be a family again.
All of Kya’s wishing seemed to have worked when she found a letter from Ma in the mailbox one day in early fall. She wanted to rip open the envelope and read what Ma had written, but she didn’t know how. She left the letter on the table for Pa to read when he got home.
When Kya saw Pa coming up the lane, she ran from the house, too nervous about his reaction to the letter. She hid in the outhouse until she was sure he’d read it. After a minute, Pa slammed through the front door and stomped to his boat. Kya ran to the house to retrieve the letter, but all she found were its charred remains in the garbage. She collected the remains and stored them in a glass jar. They were the only pieces of Ma she had left.
After the letter, everything reverted back to the old ways. Pa was drunk all the time. He never took her fishing again and stopped coming home more often.
By the time Kya was ten, Pa was a passing mirage in the shack. He’d stay out for weeks at a time, not bothering to leave any money. Soon, she was able to count several full moons since she last saw him. She imagined all the things that could have happened to Pa, like being beaten up during a poker game or falling drunk into the swamp and drowning. Whatever had happened, Kya knew that Pa wasn’t going to come back.
Unlike with Ma, Pa leaving didn’t make her feel abandoned, just lonely. She was also scared that someone would find out he was gone and take her to live somewhere else. The marsh was her home, and the birds needed her. Leaving wasn’t an option. To avoid the authorities, she’d have to pretend Pa was still at home.
The only saving grace was that Pa had disappeared on foot, leaving the boat behind. Kya survived by digging for mussels in the sand and smashing them into a spread on crackers for each meal. But she had no more supplies. The house was dark at night without kerosene for the lamps, and she only had a few matches left. She had to find a way to get some money.
Early one morning, Kya awoke before the sun and went mussel hunting up and down the coastline. After several hours, she’d collected two large sacks full. She motored to Jumpin’s and offered him the bags of mussels in exchange for money and gas for the boat. He gave her fifty cents and a full tank. She’d never felt so proud.
Kya had never been inside Jumpin’s store before, but on this visit, she wandered around and saw that he sold more than just fishing gear. There was food, kerosene, and toiletries, everything she needed to get by. With her fifty cents, she picked up a few supplies.
She asked Jumpin' how many bags she could bring each week. He told her he bought mussels every three days, but other people brought them in, too. If she wanted to sell hers, she’d have to be first in line. Kya thanked him and said Pa sent his regards.
When Kya got back home, she felt grown up. She’d made money and replenished what she needed to survive on her own. She unpacked the groceries and noticed a box of candy in the bag. Jumpin' must have slipped it in.
Kya started waking up earlier each day to collect mussels and oysters. Sometimes, she’d motor close to the wharf and sleep in the boat so she could be there first thing when Jumpin' opened. She was making decent money and never had to step foot in town again for anything.
For a while, Kya was able to support herself with mussels money, but all the money in the world didn’t make up for a lack of human connection. The days stretched long, and Kya’s loneliness stretched with them. Ever since she’d seen Tate that day a few years ago, she’d caught glimpses of him now and then out in the estuary. She wanted to approach him, make contact with someone besides Jumpin', but she never did. She only ever watched him from afar.
Life at the shack had dwindled. Dishes went undone, her collection of feathers and shells were haphazardly strewn about the floor, and her clothes became tattered and rank. She had no shoes and no way of changing her circumstances without more money, which was scarce.
Many mornings, Kya pulled up to Jumpin’s only to discover others had beaten her there. After two weeks, she was out of money and supplies with no hope on the horizon. She decided to try a different tactic. She took the boat out and fished for eight hours, amassing a small pile of fish. She soaked them in a saltwater brine and smoked them in Pa’s smokehouse out back. The next day, she took the smoked fish to Jumpin's.
Jumpin' took one look at Kya’s mangled pile of fish and told her he’d sell them on consignment. However, that night, Jumpin' took the bag of fish home to his wife Mabel. Mabel, a large warm woman, took one look at the fish and decided something needed to be done about that poor girl. Despite Kya’s efforts to pretend Pa was still around, Jumpin' and Mabel weren’t fooled.
The next day, Kya pulled up to Jumpin’s and found Mabel sweeping the wharf. She’d never seen anybody at Jumpin’s before besides the proprietor. Mabel told Kya that members of her community had offered to trade some of their used clothes and other supplies for her smoked fish. She took Kya’s measurements and told her to come back the next day.
When Kya arrived the next morning, Mabel wasn’t there, but Jumpin' showed her two boxes of supplies his community had put together. There were jeans, blouses, sneakers, kitchen supplies, pantry essentials, and vegetables. Kya thought these items were worth more than her measly smoked fish, but Jumpin' said it was a fair trade.
On the ride back to the shack, Kya pulled her boat over and dug out one of the blouses. It was clean and had a lace collar and satin bow. She pulled the blouse on over her dirty overalls and headed home, one hand caressing the lace as she glided over the water.
Kya turned fourteen in 1960, and although her body was becoming that of a woman, she still had the mind of a child. She hadn’t learned what came after twenty-nine and still couldn’t read. Life had continued much in the same way. She still dug for mussels and smoked fish to sell to Jumpin’, and with Mabel’s help, she’d learned how to make a garden. One of the only bad things about going to Jumpin’s was that other people saw her there. She was exposed, as was the fact that she was alone.
A year before, Kya had been lying on her porch bed when she heard voices in the night. The voices came closer to the shack, and she recognized the sounds of teenage boys, maybe five, hollering in the surrounding brush. She’d jumped from bed and tried to run out of the house before they reached her, but she was too late. The flicker of lights was already visible.
Soon, the heavy thud of hands slapping the front porch shook her heart. Each slap felt like a stab inside her body. She crouched below the solid base of the porch wall and waited. Finally, the boys ran away, cheering about surviving the wicked Marsh Girl, or Wolf Child, as some called her.
Because of this experience, Kya was quick to hide after seeing a boy slipping through the shadows of her forest one day. Crouching in the trees, Kya wondered if it was one of the boys coming back for her. She waited until he was gone, then made her way home.
When Kya came upon an old stump in the clearing, she stopped. Sticking straight up from one of the stump veins was a black feather. To the untrained eye, the feather looked like an ordinary crow’s feather, but to Kya, who’d become an expert on marsh wildlife from years of observation, it was a feather from the eyebrow of a great blue heron, a rare find for even the most ardent collector.
The way the feather was positioned to stick straight up was a sign that someone had been there. Kya panicked and looked around. Had the boy put it there to distract her? Was he watching her now? She ran home and locked the door behind her.
When first light broke, Kya woke with a strong urge to see the feather. It was so exquisite. The feather was still sticking out of the stump, so she grabbed it and took it home.
The next morning, Kya went back to stump and found another feather standing upright. A laugh escaped her, a rare occurrence these days, as she pulled it free from the stump. The feather was white and belonged to a tropicbird. Normally, these birds didn’t exist in this part of the coast, and she wondered how the boy had come across it and why he would give such a rare thing away.
Kya took the feather home and opened one of Ma’s old guidebooks with pictures of birds and insects from the region. Although she couldn’t read the names, Kya had inherited Ma’s artistic skills, and she drew pictures of the birds or shells that matched her specimens on brown bags. She placed each collectible on its corresponding picture and placed them on the shelves.
Another week passed before Kya found another feather in the stump. This time, the feather, long and striped, was a tail feather from a wild turkey, one of Kya’s favorite birds. She smiled and took the feather home, happy the game this boy was playing with her was still on.
Kya figured she would have to reciprocate if the game were to continue. The day after finding the turkey feather, she laid a tail feather from a baby bald eagle on the stump and anchored it with a rock. That night, she lay in bed excited about the boy finding her feather. Everyone in her life had abandoned her, but this boy was intentionally trying to make contact. She assumed he was an alright boy. No one with this much knowledge or appreciation for birds could be bad.
Reinvigorated by the prospects of actual human contact, Kya cleaned the entire shack from top to bottom. As well as the shack, she cleaned herself up. In Ma’s drawer, she found a pair of scissors. Her hair hadn’t been cut since before Ma left seven years earlier. It was a long unruly tide of black hair down her back. She took the scissors and cut it to her shoulders. Then, she scrubbed the dirt from her hands and face and brushed her hair until it was silky.
When Kya went back to the stump, she saw not just another rare feather, but a milk carton containing vegetable seeds, a spark plug for her boat, and a note she couldn’t read. The boy had upped his ante, and she knew she had to do the same. Kya went home and grabbed a beautiful swan feather, but when she went by the stump to leave it, she was surprised to find the boy waiting against a tree.
At once, she recognized the boy as Tate, even aged as he was at eighteen years old. His golden curls were longer, his face tan and handsome. He was staring at her with bronze and green eyes, watching like a heron gazing at its prey. Kya felt the urge to run, but Tate called to her and told her not to be afraid. He couldn’t help but be taken aback by the sight of her. She had grown into a striking young woman.
Not only Tate’s words, but also a warm sensation inside kept Kya from running. She held out the swan feather, her movements slow. With equally slow movements, so as not to startle her, Tate took the feather. They stood in awkward silence for a long moment before Kya finally admitted she couldn’t read his note. Before he left, Tate said he would teach her how to read.
For the next few weeks, Tate taught Kya how to read sitting on a log near the beach. He brought old grammar books from school and worked with her on the alphabet. She learned to write each letter and make their sounds. Slowly and patiently (Tate was always so patient), she was able to form words and sound others out.
When she was finally able to read a whole sentence by herself, Kya beamed. Not only could she now read, but she’d never known that words could be put together to create meaning. The way she lit up made something inside Tate light up, as well.
Kya was also feeling something stir inside her for Tate. When they would sit close going over a lesson, she longed to grab his hand. She wanted to know more about him and his home life, but she was afraid to bring up the outside world, afraid he’d come to his senses about hanging out with swamp trash.
Shortly after Kya learned to read, she asked Tate what came after twenty-nine. She was finally going to get her answer. Tate helped her learn to count higher, showing her all the different numbers and groupings. He never made her feel stupid during any of those lessons.
With her new skills, Kya labeled her specimens with the proper names and read everything she could get her hands on. One night, she opened the old Bible and saw the names of all the family members and their birthdates written inside. For the first time, Kya learned the names of her siblings, the date of her birth, and her full name: Catherine Danielle Clark.
One morning, when Kya pulled into Jumpin’s, she was surprised to see the usually upbeat and kind expression on his face twisted with concern. Jumpin' told her some men had been asking after her, questioning whether Pa was still around and if Kya went to school. He said he thought they were from social services. Kya panicked, but Jumpin' told her not to worry. He’d send them on their way if they came around again.
Kya went home distraught. Would they find her and force her to leave her home? Live with a foster family? The idea was unbearable. When Tate showed up later that day, she confided in him about her fears. They decided to find a different place for their lessons, somewhere deep in the forest where the crawdads sing so no one could find them.
Kya had stumbled across an old cabin off the beaten path during her explorations. It was only a one-room structure, and most of one side was caving in, but the remaining logs were sturdy enough to hold. Over the course of summer, Tate and Kya met at the cabin most of each week. They continued their lessons, and Kya’s reading was getting better each day.
No one had come out to the shack, where she still returned to sleep each night, but she always kept one ear open for the sounds of car tires on the dirt lane. Her money was still coming from digging mussels and smoking fish, but now Tate delivered her goods to Jumpin' and brought her supplies to the shack so she wouldn’t be exposed.
Once Kya’s reading got to a certain level, Tate introduced her to poetry. He read her some of his favorite poems that had touched him. Kya loved the way the words rhymed and sounded like waves hitting the sand. After that, she started working on her own poems, reciting them allowed as she motored around the lagoons. At home, she found Ma’s old book of poetry and read through the ones marked as favorites. Each poem spoke to Kya as though they were messages from Ma, especially the ones that spoke of sadness and longing for freedom.
Tate also brought Kya more difficult books and educational materials from school. Tate never acted like the books were too advanced for her, so Kya didn’t know to think of them as such. She slowly made her way through each, picking up more and more every time. She especially loved the biology textbook.
With the fear of social services behind them, Tate and Kya stayed close to the shack instead of going to the cabin for her lessons. The late months brought darkness earlier, and when it became too cold to sit by the water, Kya invited Tate inside the shack. It was the first time anyone but Kya had been in the shack since Pa had left. He examined her collection of feathers, bones, nests, and shells with awe.
Reading kept Kya company on all the days and nights Tate couldn’t come. Loneliness was something she’d grown used to before Tate, but now she felt his absence palpably. One night, she picked up a novel from Ma’s books. It was a love story: Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier. When she finished reading for the night, she put on the one dress of Ma’s she still had and swished in front of the mirror. She imagined she was the character from the book and Tate was her handsome love interest asking her to dance.
On the morning of October 30, 1969, two Barkley Cove boys climbed to the top of the old fire tower in the swamp outside of town. They stared at the landscape from the top until their eyes landed on someone lying in the mud below. After yelling to try to get the person’s attention, they ran back down the stairs and found the dead twisted body of Chase Andrews.
Normally, the town sheriff, Ed Jackson, didn’t bother with crimes committed in the swamp. He figured trash killing trash was beyond his jurisdiction, but when the boys told him who the victim was, he jumped into action. He and the town doctor drove out to the fire tower and examined the body.
Both men, along with everyone in town, knew who Chase Andrews was. He was a charismatic child who grew into a popular teen. He was the star quarterback in high school and had joined his father at the auto shop business as an adult. He was married and lived a charmed life. Chase’s parents would be devastated when they found out their only child was dead.
At first, both men assumed Chase had fallen from the tower. The top of the fire tower was made out of large metal grates. Different squares could be pushed up, creating an opening. Chase had probably been up there drinking and fell through an open slat. But what they couldn’t figure out was why nobody had known. Chase was always running with his pack of childhood friends. The only way he would’ve been up there without them was if he was with another woman, which wasn’t a stretch for the smooth-talking local hero.
Something was off about the scene where Chase was found. There were no footprints in the mud near the body. In fact, the only footprints they could find were their own and those of the two boys. Not even Chase’s footprints existed. How could that be?
The first order of business was to inform Chase’s family of his death. Then, his body was transported to the morgue for an autopsy. Sheriff Jackson told the doctor not to mention anything about Chase’s death or the strange circumstances to anyone in town.
Soon, Deputy Joe Purdue arrived, and the men went about investigating the scene. They were reluctant to call it a murder just yet, but they both agreed it was starting to seem like it wasn’t a freak accident. They photographed the body and surrounding mud. They climbed up the fire tower stairs and saw that one of the grates on the far side was open. Sixty feet below the open grate sat the outline of Chase’s body.
The open grate was odd. People might forget to close the grate over the stairs, but it was unusual for any of the other grates to be opened, let alone left open. Joe questioned why someone would leave the grate open if they had pushed Chase into the hole, but Ed understood. If someone wanted his death look like an accident, the grate had to be open.
For two hours, Ed and Joe collected fingerprints from the grate, the stair railing, and anything else someone might have touched. They collected blood and fiber samples from broken beams that had snapped as Chase fell through. They had everything they needed to start the investigation except a suspect and motive. True, Chase was wild and known as a Tomcat with the ladies, even after he was married. There were plenty of people who might have had a grudge against him, but how many of them would take it as far as murder?
The initial lab reports came back for what had been collected at the scene. Ed and Joe looked over the report and noted a distinct lack of evidence. There were no fingerprints on the tower railings, no footprints, no traces of anyone being out there that night, not even Chase. They also had a time of death, somewhere between midnight and 2 am.
A few days later, Joe met Ed at his truck in front of the station. He’d received more information from the lab. The doctor had confirmed that the blood and hair samples taken from the broken wooden beam belonged to Chase. The blow had caused internal bruising and damage to his brain, but what killed him was the force of hitting the ground, a force that had severed his spine.
Both men knew that the evidence was now conclusive that Chase’s body had not been dumped in the swamp. He’d fallen from the tower, a fact that now made the lack of fingerprints and footprints even more suspicious. There was no more doubt that Chase had been murdered.
Along with the report were samples of a red fiber found on the body. Ed held up a plastic baggy holding a small clump of wool fibers. For the first time, the lawmen had a lead. All they had to do was find the red wool garment, whether hat, scarf, or sweater, and match it to the sample.
Eight days after Chase’s body was discovered, Ed and Joe both announced they had a piece of interesting information. Over donuts, Joe said he’d heard that Chase had been sneaking out to the marsh for several years. Chase never told anyone what he was doing out there, but he was known to visit the marsh on his own. Joe thought maybe he was mixed up with drugs.
Ed argued that Chase was an athlete and not likely to do drugs, so Joe suggested maybe he’d been meeting a woman. Again, Ed dismissed the idea. Chase only mixed with the high-class women of Barkley Cove. He wasn’t likely to mess around with marsh trash. Both agreed the circumstances were unclear, but the information did point to a secret side of Chase’s life that may help their case.
When it was Ed’s turn, he relayed that Chase’s mother, Patty Love, had something important to tell them, something that might lead to a break in the case. Her story had something to do with a shell necklace Chase always wore. It wasn’t much of a clue, but with the way the swamp had swallowed up any other evidence, it was worth a shot.
Kya’s body was changing in ways she didn’t understand. Without a woman around for guidance, she’d moved through puberty without restriction. So when Mabel gave her a bra, she was surprised and embarrassed. Mabel said “it was about time she be needing one” and added that she was always available if Kya needed to talk about any other changes in her body.
A few weeks went by before Kya needed Mabel’s help again. She was in her boat on the open water when her stomach started to cramp. It was a pain like she’d never felt before and made her double over. She motored back to her beach and docked the boat. Right then, she heard the sound Tate’s boat motoring toward her. She cursed his terrible timing and hoped she wouldn’t have to run into the woods to let out whatever was causing her insides to twist.
Tate sat next to her on the sand and immediately noticed something was wrong. After Kya described her pain, Tate went quiet. He dug his toes into the sand and kept his gaze toward the sea. Then, Tate said it sounded like she was going through what girls her age went through and reminded her of a pamphlet he’d brought from school regarding the menstrual cycle.
Kya’s whole body burned with shame. Here she was, becoming a woman in front of Tate, and she had no idea what to expect. She left Tate on the beach and went home, but the first thing she did in the morning was motor to Jumpin's and ask for Mabel.
When Mabel arrived, she hurried to Kya with a brown bag in her hands. Mabel climbed into her boat and pulled Kya into a tight hug. She gave Kya the bag and explained what everything was for. Mabel told her this was a natural part of a girl’s life. Kya was a woman now.
Tate and Kya never spoke another word about that day on the beach. Their lessons picked back up where they’d left off. Fall had turned the sycamore leaves a golden hue, and Kya and Tate sat on their reading log underneath. Their lesson had ended a while ago, but Tate lingered.
Sitting in the silence, Kya found the courage to ask the question she’d been wanting to ask since finding that first feather—why he helped her and gave her all those gifts and materials. Shouldn’t he be spending time with a girlfriend from school? Tate said he preferred to be in nature than in town, and he liked how interested Kya was in marsh life. Most people never thought about all the living things in the marsh the way she did.
What he didn’t say was that he felt bad for the way she was alone. He’d heard the rumors about the Marsh Girl in town and knew boys dared each other to tag her house as a right of passage. He also didn’t tell her about the boys betting each other about who would devirginize her. There was more Tate wasn’t saying, like how his feelings had grown from those of a protective brother to the strong desire of a man. His feelings were so intense, sometimes they hurt.
Kya leaned close to Tate and felt her energy shift. She wondered if he felt it, too. At that moment, a heavy breeze blew through, sending thousands of yellow leaves from the surrounding sycamores cascading through the sky above them. Tate and Kya leaped up and chased the swirling leaves, trying to catch them before they landed. The two whirled under the leaves, falling like snowflakes, until they were face to face. Tate leaned in and kissed her, and Kya felt the warmth of a new kind of connection, one she didn’t know existed.
Despite the age difference and their divergent lives in the community, love flourished between Kya and Tate. They still held their reading and math lessons, but the lessons were now accompanied by flirtatious games of tag along the beach, close embraces, and gentle kisses.
One day, Tate took Kya through the channels to a beach south of the shack. In his boat was a picnic basket. When they reached the beach, Tate revealed a two-tiered cake with her name written on top. He’d found out her birthday from the Bible and surprised her. Kya hadn’t celebrated a birthday since Ma left, and she’d never had a birthday cake made just for her.
Along with the cake were several presents wrapped in decorative paper. Kya unwrapped her presents as they ate cake with their fingers. There was a magnifying glass to examine her specimens, a jeweled barrette for her hair, and art supplies for her reproductions. Kya thanked him in wonder.
As fall moved into winter, Tate found it hard to visit Kya as much as he wanted. He was helping his father more on the boat and working through his final year of school. He thought about her constantly, keeping their relationship a secret, even from Scupper. He still made it to the shack now and then, sometimes just for a brief walk along the beach, but most of the time, he reminisced about kissing her and imagined what it would be like to be intimate with her. He would never push her, though. She was young and innocent, and he still felt a strong desire to keep her safe, even from him.
Kya also thought about Tate, but mostly she devoured every book she could get her hands on. Her reading progress was remarkable, and she could get through all of the science books Tate brought her from school. She loved reading about biological development patterns and communication rituals of animals, the whole time wondering if she’d find some explanation for Ma’s abandonment.
Christmas came and went as usual, with Kya spending it alone, but Tate had promised to come the next day to celebrate with her. Kya put on a peach chiffon dress she’d gotten from Mabel’s donations and waited on the cold beach with her present for Tate—a tuft of hair from the head of a male cardinal. When Tate arrived, he was sincerely touched by her gift. Together in the cozy warmth of the shack’s kitchen, Tate and Kya heated up his holiday leftovers. They ate dinner at the kitchen table, which Kya had decorated for the occasion.
Tate became aroused watching Kya cleaning dishes at the sink. He moved until he was behind her and engulfed her in an embrace. She leaned into his chest and closed her eyes. His hands roamed, surrounded her breasts. Kya experienced sensations in parts of her body that confused her. She didn’t want it to stop, but she also didn’t know what to do. Her instincts took over, and she resisted, but Tate whispered in her ear that everything was fine. They stayed embraced, feeling each other’s chests moving up and down with each breath.
Spring of 1961 burst forth from winter with startling beauty, and Tate and Kya took in the rebirth of warmth walking along the banks of a creek near the secret cabin.
One afternoon, Kya burst into giggles and fluttered away like a little girl, but Tate didn’t see a little girl anymore. He moved toward her and pushed her against a tree. They kissed, his body pressed up against hers. This was the most forward he’d ever been.
Tate pulled back and looked in Kya’s eyes, waiting for a sign to continue. Kya didn’t protest, so he undressed her, slowly so he could take in her beauty. Tate undressed himself and moved in close until he could feel her nakedness against his. Kya blushed and turned away, but Tate made her look him in the eye. She reached for him, and he reached for her. As he explored her body with his hands, Kya let out a soft moan. Suddenly, Tate came back to reality, his reason overtaking his passion once again.
Despite Kya’s pleas to keep going, Tate refused. He dressed her and carried her to the beach. Tate explained that he wanted her, but she was too young. He loved her too much to risk the emotional or physical repercussions of their lovemaking.
Over the next few months, their relationship was still physical, but Tate never let things get too far again. Then, in early summer, he told Kya that he would be leaving for college in Chapel Hill sooner than he thought to take a job in a biology lab over the summer. Kya, who had thought they’d have the whole summer together, was crushed.
Kya asked why he couldn’t stay, why he couldn’t just become a shrimper like Scupper. But she already knew. Tate wanted to be a research biologist and study the marsh. Kya understood his goals, but she also knew they would take Tate away forever. There were no jobs for biologists near Barkley Cove. Tate said he would never leave her, that he would visit often and come back for her when he was done, but she didn’t believe him. Everyone had left her and never came back. Why would Tate be any different? She jumped up and ran into the woods, hiding as she’d done so many times from the big scary world.
The next time Tate came to the shack, it was a week later. He motored onto her beach and took her to the reading log. Things had changed in the last few days, and he was leaving for college immediately. He’d come to say goodbye.
Kya couldn’t speak or look at him. All she could think was how she wanted to go back to the tree and give herself to him. She wanted him to make love to her just once in case he never came back. But Tate would be back for the Fourth of July, just over a month away, and he swore he would never forget her. Before he left, he gave Kya a long kiss goodbye. As he motored across the lagoon, he turned once and waved. Kya waved back, then brought her hand to her heart.
Kya sat on the reading log on July 4, 1961, eager to hear the low hum of Tate’s motor approaching. She read throughout the day and only left the log once to rush back to the shack to eat something. The sun began to drop, and the sounds of wildlife started to fade for the evening. By the time the sky lingered between the last copper bloom of light and hazy blue of night, the marsh was quiet, tucked in for the night.
The next day, Kya took up her post on the log and waited again for the sweet sound of her love’s boat. This time, she sat out until the moon was high, blasting a cone of light across the channel. The next day was the same, as was the day after that. Around noon on the fourth day of waiting, Kya screamed over the lagoon, yelling Tate’s name in disbelief. She fell to her knees and let the tide wash over her.
For three days, Kya lay in bed with an aching heart. She didn’t even get up to feed the birds on the beach, something she’d done every day of her life thus far. She could hear their painful pleas from her bed and hoped their sadness might replace hers, but there was no way to repair the damage of abandonment this time.
What was wrong with her that made everyone leave? Ma, her siblings, Pa, and now Tate. When the other’s left, she had learned to survive, but with Tate, his absence was like the absence of breath itself. Tate had opened her up to a life of connection and showed her how to love. She didn’t just lose Tate, she lost the whole world Tate represented. She vowed to rely on herself only from now on and never open her heart to love again.
With this new resolve, Kya got out of bed. The first thing she did was take grits to the beach to feed the seagulls. Their joy at seeing her was felt in the way they swooped around her tall frame, coming close enough to brush her with their feathers. Kya felt a small reprieve from her agony, but it was momentary. She stayed hidden from the world for another month in the marsh.
After being sequestered for so long, Kya ran out of supplies. She took her boat to Jumpin’s, but unlike before, she simply filled up, bought her items, and headed home. She didn’t want to talk with Jumpin’ or feel their connection. People couldn’t be trusted anymore.
One morning, Kya took the boat out, explored, and added to her wilderness collection. She tried to focus on finding feathers, shells, and nests, but her thoughts always drifted to Tate. Months passed in this way. She’d take the boat out, collect her specimens, and paint illustrations of them at home. She went to Jumpin’s only when she absolutely had to and continued to keep an emotional distance.
During this time, her collection had taken on a grand air. She’d organized everything according to genus and species, age, size, and color. Every surface of the shack held a part of her masterpiece. She loved her collection and world, but she was lonelier than ever.
Time continued, and soon it was a year since she’d seen Tate. Though her life had gone on, the empty hole in her heart expanded with each passing month. She longed for the sound of another’s voice, to feel someone near, to touch another’s flesh. But keeping her heart safe was more important than companionship, and year after year, Kya settled into isolation.
At nineteen, Kya had become a tall, lean, striking young woman. Her hair was long and coal black, and her eyes were large and captivating. She had remained sheltered all these years, with only her collection, textbooks, and poetry to keep her company. She’d grown accustomed to her life, but she never lost the longing for others.
One day, Kya sat on Point Beach along the coast between her shack and Jumpin’s watching the tide roll in and out. A crush of voices suddenly filled the air. Kya ran into the forest and watched as a group of young adults scurried over the place she had previously sat. They were the same group she’d seen a few times, the kids who’d scorned her as children now grown up.
The girls included Tallskinnyblonde and Roundchubbycheeks, along with two others, and a handful of boys tossing a football. She recognized one of the boys as Chase Andrews. On occasion, Kya was forced to venture into Barkley Cove, where she’d heard these people snickering behind her back. She didn’t want to envy them, but she couldn’t help it, especially the girls and their close female bond.
Kya was transfixed by Chase and his strong tan shoulders. At one point, the football was tossed close to where she was hiding. Chase caught it, and when he pulled back to throw, he saw Kya behind a tree. He threw the ball, then turned and stared at her in the eyes, a small smile creeping across his mouth.
Kya held her breath and felt a warm sensation course through her body. As he ran away, she was overcome with desire. Kya didn’t want to want Chase. In her heart, love no longer existed. She tried to stay away from Point Beach, but her desire for human contact was stronger than her will, and she went back again and again, hoping to see him.
The warmth of being noticed by Chase sizzled like an addiction. It had broken open a part of Kya she’d shut down, and when she went to Jumpin’s the next time, she asked him about Mabel and his family. Jumpin' was surprised at the change in her after so long, but he knew better than to show it.
A few days later, Kya returned to Jumpin’s. Jumpin' wasn’t at his usual post, but someone else was at the wharf—Chase Andrews. Chase approached Kya with all the confidence of someone used to being adored. He asked her if she would join him for a picnic over the weekend. Kya was apprehensive, but she agreed, not wanting to miss the opportunity to be in someone’s presence again.
Instead of going straight home, Kya drifted in the open water and stared at the sky. She recited poetry from memory, including one from unknown local poet Amanda Hamilton she’d read in the newspaper. The poem was about love being set free from its cage and allowed to wander the shore. It made her think of Tate, and the old hurt and anger roiled up inside.
What Kya didn’t know was that Tate hadn’t abandoned her, at least not in the way she thought. Tate was ready to leave Chapel Hill as planned the day before the Fourth of July, but his professor at the lab invited him to join a birding expedition over the weekend. He would be the only student in a group of renowned ecologists. There was no way he could refuse.
Fifteen days later, Tate arrived in Barkley Cove desperate to see Kya and apologize for standing her up. He headed for the shack, sure that she would forgive him when she heard about his prestigious invitation. As he glided into the channel to the shack, he saw Kya’s boat tied up along the shore. A few feet in front, she was low to the ground examining some type of creature. She hadn’t heard his boat or seen him approaching.
Tate watched, thinking of how beautiful she was barefoot and engulfed in the natural world. He smiled at the care and patience she took seeking and discovering the organisms of the marsh. Then, out of nowhere, Kya stood up on alert. The low hum of another boat was advancing, and Kya dashed into the woods. She was still a distance away, but her hiding spot had brought her close enough for Tate to see her face clearly. Her eyes were wild like a caged animal.
The other boat was a small fishing vessel driven by an old man. He passed through the channel and out to the open sea without seeing either Kya or Tate. Tate hadn’t seen this type of feral behavior from Kya since the feather game. He was taken aback and realized that even if her mind belonged in his new world of laboratories and academics, her life did not. He knew, in that moment, he would have to make a choice. A life with Kya or a life as an intellectual. He turned his boat around and headed back to town, ashamed that he didn’t even say goodbye.
Kya wandered down to the beach the night before her picnic with Chase. Under the stars and rhythmic chirping and croaking of crickets and frogs, she waltzed across the sand, dreaming of all the ways she wanted Chase to touch her. The way he’d stared at her at Jumpin's had increased her desire. It was a confident look of wanting.
When she met Chase the next morning, her desire shriveled and gave way to anxiety. Chase pulled his boat next to hers along the shore down from the marsh and reached out to help her aboard. If she took his hand, it would be the first skin-to-skin contact she’d had in years. After a moment of hesitation, she finally took it and climbed into his boat.
Chase took her to a beach farther down the shore, far from town and her shack. They walked along the sand, not talking and not holding hands, but every few feet, their fingers brushed between them. Kya worried that Chase was only hanging out with her out of curiosity, rather than real interest, but she reasoned it didn’t matter. All she wanted from Chase was a reprieve from loneliness. Her heart would never be involved enough to get hurt.
They sat on the sand, and Chase picked up an unusual shell. Kya quickly identified the name of the species and said it was rare to see it so far north. Chase stared at her confused, obviously not expecting the Marsh Girl to speak like a biologist. The information didn’t impress him one bit. He just thought the shell was cool. He gave it to Kya, since she knew so much about it.
Chase spread a blanket and pulled out the lavish picnic he’d brought: fried chicken, ham, biscuits, potato salad, and cake. He gave Kya a soda, the first in her life. Kya knew Chase’s mother was likely the one who’d packed the picnic, and she knew there was a good chance she’d had no idea who it was for. As they ate, they spoke of the water and seabirds flying above, nothing deep or personal.
They hadn’t touched the whole meal, but when it was over, Chase leaned in for a kiss. His hands fluttered softly against her face and neck, then one hand slid over her blouse toward her breast. They tipped backwards, and suddenly Chase was on top of her. In one motion, he positioned himself between her legs and pulled her blouse up. Kya pushed against his chest, wriggled free, and yanked her shirt down. Her black eyes burned into him.
Chase spoke calmly, telling her everything was okay. He tried to touch her face, but Kya jumped up. She’d imagined him touching her the night before and understood mating rituals of the wildlife in the marsh, but sex was different. Her only experience was the close call with Tate, and she realized she wasn’t ready. She should have known this was all Chase wanted. Men were no different than any other male species. They only came around when it was time to mate.
It was true—initially Chase had only asked her out so he could be the first to bag the Marsh Girl. But after seeing her eyes ablaze, he was struck by her beauty and raw power. He apologized and tried to get her to calm down, but Kya turned and ran into the woods. She followed the pattern of blackbirds until she was back by her boat. She was ashamed of how much she’d wanted to be touched, so much that she’d made herself easy prey.
The next time Kya saw Chase was ten days later sitting alone in his boat off the shore of Point Beach. She knew what he’d done was wrong, but he’d also stopped when she said to and apologized. Her loneliness convinced her to give him a second chance.
When Kya motored up to his boat, Chase again apologized. He offered to show her a view of the marsh from the top of the fire tower. The fire tower stood in the swamp on the other side of Barkley Cove, a place Kya had never ventured before. Once at the top, Kya greeted the full form of her true soulmate for the first time. The marsh was beautiful in its entirety.
Chase said he knew he was out of line before and would never pressure her again. In response, Kya took a necklace from her pocket. She’d made it with the shell they’d found on the beach. She was planning on wearing it but, in the moment, decided Chase should have it. Chase put it on, letting his fingers linger on the shell.
Chase wanted to see where Kya lived. Kya couldn’t imagine showing him the rundown shack, but she didn’t want to mess up this opportunity to be accepted by another, so she agreed. When Chase entered the shack, he was greeted with ten years of specimens lining every inch of the shack. He examined them, surprised that she’d amassed such a large and intricate collection, had painted all the illustrations and organized them so skillfully. Again, his interest waned. He didn’t understand why you would go to so much trouble for stuff you see lying around outside.
Tate was the only other person who’d ever been in the shack in almost ten years. He had always seemed to belong there, but Chase was different. Kya felt on display and ashamed of her meager home. So she was surprised when Chase complimented her, saying he didn’t know anyone else who could have survived the way she had.
Feeling the moment upon her, she asked Chase why he was spending time with her. He admitted that lust had been his motivation, but he’d changed. Now, Chase just wanted to be near Kya and get to know her.
Kya led him to the beach, a piece of stale cornbread in her hands for the birds. As Kya fed the birds and became engulfed in their gleeful dance, Chase felt a stirring inside. He’d never intended to have feelings for the feral Marsh Girl, but he couldn’t help but be entranced by her bravery and beauty. He asked if he could come back again, and Kya nodded.
During the first week of their relationship, Chase visited Kya every night. They’d take his boat and explore the marsh estuaries. One weekend, he took her farther up the coast than she’d ever been. The water was clear and uninhabited by water plants like in the marsh. Kya avidly took notes on everything she saw. She motioned for Chase to slow down whenever deer or nests were present, and she collected whatever new specimens she could find.
Chase thought Kya’s habits were ridiculous. He was annoyed with her concern for the wildlife and questioned why she cared so much. When Kya told him she wanted to learn about the marsh, he said all she needed to know was when the fish were biting. Kya laughed despite herself. For the first time, she betrayed her own interests for a man.
Chase and Kya never met in town and never went on normal dates. They were isolated in their courtship, but Chase always remained the gentleman. Then, one night, they were huddled around a small beach fire under a blanket when Chase asked to kiss her. They kissed passionately, but Chase didn’t push for more.
Things continued in this way, but after the first couple of weeks, Chase’s visits became more sporadic. Once again, Kya was consumed with longing as she waited on her beach for the sounds of Chase’s boat, never knowing when he might show up. To shake herself out of this desperate, hopeful routine, she packed a bag and decided to go to the secret cabin.
Being away from the possibility of Chase’s visits was a relief. Without the sick worrying, Kya was free to explore and read. She’d started going to a library in Sea Oaks, a larger town down the coast, where no one knew her or whispered about the Marsh Girl behind her back. She checked out college-level science books and read to her heart’s content in the cabin.
When Kya returned to her shack, she found Chase, shaken from the surprise of not finding her there when he wanted her. He started scheduling his visits and was always punctual.
Kya started fantasizing about what it might be like to be part of Chase’s real world. She imagined them picnicking with his friends, marriage, and children, but every time she thought about broaching the subject, she clammed up.
Months had passed since that first picnic on the beach, and Chase had kept his promise to not pressure her. One day, they were lazing on his boat off the coast, and Chase suggested they go swimming. He told her he wouldn’t look when she took off her clothes, but when she pulled her shirt off, he stared at her bare chest. Slowly, he began undressing her down to her underwear. To be touched was glorious, and Kya moved against him. But when he tried to take off her underwear, she stopped him.
Chase protested that it had been long enough and he’d been good. Kya asked what would happen after she gave in. How could she be sure he wouldn’t abandon her once he got what he wanted? Chase said no one ever had guarantees, but he was falling for her. Wasn’t that good enough? Kya searched his expression, looking for a trace of the love he’d professed, but his face was hard and gave nothing away. Still, she wasn’t alone, and that seemed good enough for now. She told him she’d be ready soon.
Kya was gliding through the channels one day when she saw Tate in the distance. It wasn’t the first time she had spotted Tate out in the waterways, but he was closer than before. She watched as he now expertly collected samples in official-looking lab vials. Tate was out of her league, and she knew it. She rowed silently away.
A while later, Tate was home from graduate school and decided he was going to visit Kya. It had been five years since he’d left her on the shore before heading to college. He knew he’d been a coward for never contacting her, but he wanted her back and would beg for her forgiveness.
Since that day he’d come back after the Fourth of July, he’d continued to believe that Kya wouldn’t fit in his new world. He’d tried dating a few women, but they were never Kya. So when Tate heard that a federal research lab was being built in Sea Oaks, he decided he would apply to be a scientist there. He would finish his degree and move to the marsh with Kya.
Tate neared the channel to the marsh and saw Kya motoring fast in her boat. He tried to get her attention, but it was focused elsewhere. Chase’s boat was coming toward her. Tate’s heart dropped. He’d heard people talking in town about the possibility of this relationship, but seeing it hurt him. It also hurt Tate that Kya had no idea that Chase was living a different life in Barkley Cove, one that included other women. Still, Tate had mistreated Kya, too, and could not bear judgment on Chase’s actions. He cursed himself for leaving Kya and returned to town.
Kya made a trip into Barkley Cove one day when she needed something Jumpin' didn’t carry. When she was leaving the Piggly Wiggly, she almost ran straight into Chase’s parents. Patty Love was dressed immaculately, as usual. Kya knew who they were, as they did her, and she hoped to receive some acknowledgment from them. But Chase’s parents stopped abruptly and made a wide circle around Kya, like she was a walking plague.
That night, while she and Chase floated in his boat, Kya mentioned running into his parents. She asked if she might meet them soon. Chase promised she would and held her hand, but he didn’t look at her when he said it.
Patty Love entered the police station late in the afternoon. She wanted to know if the sheriff had any leads or other information about her son’s death. Sheriff Jackson thought it was surely foul play and said they were doing everything they could to find the person responsible. That was when Patty Love told them her news.
Patty said there was a shell necklace Chase had worn almost every day for four years. It was a single shell with a piece of rawhide laced through. She knew he’d been wearing it the night he died because he’d been over for dinner. But when she saw Chase’s body, he wasn’t wearing the necklace, and it wasn’t part of his possessions held by the coroner. She was certain the necklace wasn’t loose enough to have simply fallen off.
Ed was curious about the significance of the necklace. Why would Chase wear such a thing on a daily basis? Had someone special given it to him? Patty Love fell quiet. She knew rumors had spread around town about her son and the Marsh Girl carousing a year before he got married, but she’d never been able to talk about it—her son with such trash.
But now, it was different. She was sure that girl had done something to her boy. She told the officers about Chase’s affair and that the Marsh Girl had made the necklace. She was positive no one else would have taken it. The Marsh Girl had obviously felt scorned that Chase had broken up with her and married another woman. If she couldn’t have him, no one could.
After Patty left, Ed and Joe pondered this new information. It would make sense if someone from the marsh was involved, as they have little respect for the law. Also, marsh folk know more about the swamp than anyone else. They’d know how to cover their tracks out there. But he had a hard time imagining a woman having the strength to push a man like Chase off the tower. Still, it was the only lead they had.
The men agreed to drive out to the shack to talk to the Marsh Girl and find out what she knew. If they brought up the necklace and she seemed disturbed, there could be something to Patty Love’s theory.
The next morning, the men woke before dawn and drove to the shack. They wanted to try to catch Kya before she took off in her boat. When they arrived, they parked a ways down the lane and crept silently to the shack. Nobody answered when they knocked, and despite their early arrival, the boat was already gone. They tried another day and found the boat tied up on the shore, but nobody answered when they knocked. They had an inkling that the Marsh Girl was hiding in the woods, but there was nothing they could do without a warrant.
Because Chase Andrew’s murder was the biggest thing to hit Barkley Cove in decades, Ed and Joe couldn’t go anywhere without being bombarded with questions. After the last failed attempt to find the Marsh Girl at the shack, the men entered the Dog-Gone and got an earful. Townspeople asked if they’d found anything new, why there was no evidence, whether they’d considered certain people around town, whether they knew what they were doing.
At one point, a shrimper named Hal Miller asked to speak to Ed alone. Ed took the man to a corner away from the clamor. Hal seemed stressed as he told the sheriff he’d been haunted by information he hadn’t shared before and figured it was time to tell someone.
The night of Chase’s death, Hal was out shrimping with another man, Allen Hunter, and saw the Marsh Girl motoring at around 1:45 am. If she kept to the course she was heading, she would have reached the area surrounding the tower.
After Hal left, Ed told Joe what he’d just heard. They both agreed this new information increased suspicion about the Marsh Girl. If they had a little more, they might be able to get a warrant to search the shack.
It was raining outside when Joe walked into Ed’s office with news. Kya was still nowhere to be found, so the deputy had gone out to Jumpin’s to see when she might be coming next. Jumpin' had given Joe the most interesting news: Kya was gone the night Chase was killed.
Ed didn’t believe it. He knew the Marsh Girl never left the area, and he doubted she had any friends who would know about it if she did. But Joe said both Jumpin' and Dr. Tate Walker confirmed that Kya was over in the nearby town of Greenville for two nights, including October 30. Jumpin' said she hadn’t even heard the news when she came by the wharf a day later, and Tate was the one who’d helped her learn to take the bus to Greenville and back.
Joe believed they were back to square one, now that their main suspect had a rock-solid alibi, but Ed wasn’t quite so sure. What about Hal and Allen seeing her in the boat? He reminded Joe that sometimes a good alibi was too good. They agreed to wait until they confirmed the story before deciding what to do next.
Later that afternoon, Pansy Price knocked on the sheriff’s door. She’d heard around town, most notably from Patty Love, that the Marsh Girl was suspected of killing Chase, but she didn’t believe the rumors. She and her co-workers had seen the Marsh Girl get on a bus the afternoon of October 28 and get off the bus two days later, hours after Chase had died that morning. She’d be willing to testify to all of it.
Again, Joe assumed the investigation into the Marsh Girl was done, but Ed couldn’t be thwarted. If someone could take a bus to Greenville in the day, they could easily take one at night back to Barkley Cove. And it seemed too convenient that she allowed herself to be seen getting on and off the bus. If she was going to cover her tracks, she would have to have made her movements public. It was a brilliant plan, Ed said. The men looked at the bus departure times for Greenville. Sure enough, the times indicated that going back and forth and back again in one day was not only possible, but easy. It was time to get a warrant.
When Ed and Joe entered Kya’s shack without her knowledge, they stood dumbfounded at the sight of her enormous collection. They thought what most people from town thought: she had lost her mind.
The men searched every drawer, closet, and behind every specimen for a red woolen item, a diary, ticket stubs, anything that might help. After a while, Joe called Ed onto the porch. In his hand was a red wool hat. Ed pulled out the baggy containing the fibers and held them up to the hat. They looked like a perfect match. They took the hat for testing at the lab.
The day the report came back, both men celebrated the officially confirmed match. Kya’s hat had left the fibers on Chase’s jacket. The case against Kya was still tenuous. Her motive as a jilted lover was shallow at best, and there was her alibi to contend with. Still, they thought the fibers were enough to at least bring her in and possibly charge her.
In mid-December, Ed and Joe were in the office devising a plan to find Kya when Rodney Horn, a retired mechanic, came in. He told the officers about something he’d seen at the end of August that might have something to do with their case. He’d been out fishing with his friend Denny Smith and witnessed something at one of the nearby coves. After he told the men his story and left, the two officers stared at each other. They finally had a proper motive.
A year had passed since Kya and Chase had come together, but things had not progressed physically. What had changed was the way Chase talked about their future. Chase started talking about building them a house after they were married. He said Kya could choose whatever kind of house she wanted, and he’d build it for her, including a veranda that looked over the water. Chase’s words were music to Kya’s ears. She would be forever attached to another. She’d finally have a family.
As Chase continued imagining their new home (away from town so Kya would be more comfortable), Kya remembered the conversation they’d had about his parents. Had he told them about her, and would they accept her? Chase said his parents would love and support whatever decision he made. If he said Kya was the woman for him, they’d love her, too. This life all sounded too amazing, and although Kya wasn’t positive she loved Chase like a husband, the fantasy of it made her swell with emotion. Her life could really change.
Chase had to go to Asheville for business over one weekend and wanted Kya to come. Kya hesitated. Asheville was a big city, and she didn’t have the right clothes or know how to act around so many people. Chase assured her he’d take care of her, and if they were going to get married and move closer to town, she’d have to get used to normal life eventually. Kya wasn’t sure, but she wanted to see the countryside and mountains, so she said yes.
The trip to Asheville was dizzying for Kya. She’d never been away from the shore and couldn’t believe her eyes as they drove through barren flatlands. It was her first time in a car. She became even more dazed when they pulled into the Appalachian Mountains, with its windy roads and deep valleys. The way the sun seemed to vanish behind the peaks and appear again a second later disoriented her, being used to the stable schedule of sunrise and sunset along the coast.
When they entered Asheville, Kya couldn’t believe the tall buildings and hundreds of people milling about. She searched each of their faces, hoping to see Ma or Pa among them.
Chase drove across town and pulled into a small drive-up motel. Their room reeked of cleaning supplies and was filled with shabby furniture. The bed took up most of the space, and Kya understood what was about to happen. With all those lovely nights under the stars, this was where they would consummate the relationship. Nothing about the room felt like love.
Chase had always been gentle with her on all those nights of touching and kissing. But now, granted access to her body, he plowed forward, ignoring the discomfort that comes with losing one’s virginity, until he was finished. Without any concern for Kya, he rolled over and passed out. The whole time, Kya had watched the blinking neon “Vacancy” sign through the window.
After that night at the motel, Chase and Kya continued making love. Kya always experienced an unsatisfied sensation when it was over, but she didn’t know what to say about it or if it was even okay to say something. Weeks went by, and then Christmas was upon them.
Chase had just finished dinner at the shack when he announced he wouldn’t be out to visit for a few days, what with the holidays and all. Kya dug deep and found the courage to ask whether she might come along to some of the holiday parties and dinner with his family.
Chase was sincere when he said she wouldn’t be comfortable at any of those town get-togethers. As she’d said before, she didn’t have the right clothes, didn’t know how to dance, and didn’t know anyone who’d be there. Kya questioned whether it wasn’t time for her to start getting used to being in town and going to events, like he’d said, for when they were married.
Chase didn’t want to ruin what they had together. It had always been just the two of them, and their time together was more precious than some stupid dances. They wouldn’t be attending those types of things once they were married anyway, so why start now?
Chase leaned in, touched her face, and stared into her eyes when he said Christmas dinner wasn’t a good idea either. He had annoying relatives coming in, and he didn’t even want to be around them. She wasn’t going to be missing anything good, he assured her. He left the shack, and just like every other Christmas since Ma had left, Kya spent it alone.
Chase didn’t return to the shack until a week after Christmas. Kya had promised she would never be caught waiting on another man again, but each day, she was on the beach desperate to hear the sound of his boat.
One morning, Kya was finishing breakfast when she heard the whir of a boat entering her lagoon. She raced outside and found an unpleasant surprise. It wasn’t Chase’s boat. It was Tate’s.
Kya thought about running away, but she stood her ground. This was her land after all. She picked up rocks, threw them at Tate, and screamed for him to leave her lagoon. She yelled that she was with someone else now while pelting him with handfuls of pebbles. Tate did his best to duck the onslaught and said he just wanted to talk. He hadn’t planned on speaking about Chase, but since she’d brought him up, he couldn’t stop himself.
Tate told Kya that she didn’t know what Chase was like in town. He dated other women and had left a party the other night with a blonde in his truck. Kya said that no matter what Chase was doing, none of it was as bad as what Tate had done. He was a coward, and she hated him.
Tate admitted that Kya was right. He apologized for meddling in her private life and said he just wanted a chance to explain what had happened all those years ago. Kya wanted to rage against him, but she softened. Here was her first love, her companion in the marsh, a person who had known her family.
Seeing an opening, Tate scrambled to get the words out. He regretted leaving her and knew he was wrong in thinking she didn’t fit into his life. He’d never gotten over her and hoped she could forgive him, but even if not, he’d needed to tell her how sorry he was and how much he still thought about her.
Tate wanted to say more. He wanted to tell her about Chase dancing with all sorts of women at the Christmas party and bragging to his friends about sleeping with Kya. Chase said she was wild and willing and worth every ounce of gas it took to get to the shack. Tate had forced himself to leave before his anger took over.
Kya kept glancing nervously behind Tate, afraid Chase might pull up any minute, so Tate suggested they go inside. He wanted to see how her collection was coming. He followed Kya inside and gaped at the grandness of what had once been just a hobby.
As Tate took in her meticulous categorization and starkly accurate renderings, he exclaimed that her collection was good enough to be published in a book. Kya rejected this notion, but Tate asked if he could take a few samples to show a publisher in the city. After much persuading, Kya finally let him take a few items. She was afraid of what she’d have to do if people wanted to meet her and discuss a book, but Tate promised he’d take care of everything.
One of the specimens Tate picked up was the first feather he gave her and the painting she’d made of it. They glanced into each other’s eyes, remembering, but Kya looked away. She wouldn’t be dragged back into feeling anything for this man. Tate asked if she could forgive him, but Kya said she didn’t think she could ever trust him again. After Tate left, Kya couldn’t stop picturing Chase with the blonde in his truck.
Chase spent New Year’s with Kya, ringing in 1967 walking arm in arm along the coast and making love. Kya forgot all about what Tate had told her, and the winter months continued, with Chase visiting often and staying over on the weekends.
For Chase’s birthday, Kya wanted to make a special dinner and birthday cake. She took her boat into town one early March morning to buy supplies at the Piggly Wiggly. She was most excited about the cake, figuring she better learn to bake if she was going to be a good wife. Chase had continued to make comments about saving money for their dream home.
When Kya reached the docks at Barkley Cove, she tied off her boat and walked the path to the row of shops. At the end of the dock, Chase was hanging out with his friends, his arms around a young perky blonde. Kya had never seen Chase in town and wasn’t sure what to do, but the only way to the store was to pass their group, so she kept on.
When Chase and his friends saw Kya, he immediately removed his arms from around the blonde and casually said hi. He asked if Kya remembered his friends, then introduced her to everyone, his voice losing strength. Kya had been waiting to meet Chase’s friends for so long, and she held her breath, hoping this might be the moment when they could be together for real. She searched for something to say, but the others only eyed her cooly and turned away. Chase lingered, saying he’d be out on Sunday, then hurried away before she could respond.
Kya finished her shopping and went home. She’d purchased a local paper to read about the new lab opening in Sea Oaks. She read the article at the kitchen table, but when she turned to the next page, her heart stopped. Staring back at her was a large picture of Chase and the blonde he’d had his arm around. It was an announcement for their upcoming marriage.
Kya ran from the room and collapsed on her bed on the porch. Her body heaved with the force of sobs. She couldn’t believe he would do this to her. Just then, the sound of a motor cut her anguish short. Chase was entering the lagoon. As she had done so many times before, Kya slipped out and hid in the woods. She watched Chase enter the shack, knowing he’d see the open paper, and come out calling her name. She waited until he gave up and left before taking the bread she’d bought for his dinner to feed to the gulls.
After feeding the birds, Kya jumped in her boat and motored with unusual speed into the open water. As she raced farther out than she’d ever traveled from land, she cursed to the wind. Finally, she reached her destination, an area of deep currents fed by the Gulf Stream. Kya had always avoided this part of the water because of the dangerous riptides, but today, she plunged into the heart of them.
The water was rough and ragged, tossing her small boat here and there. The rip grabbed hold of her boat and thrust her farther into the sea, but she didn’t care. She just wanted to feel something besides pain. Water began to slosh inside her boat, drenching her and spinning her this way and that.
Kya caught a glimpse of a small sandy island in the distance. She fought the currents and made her way toward it. When she beached, she collapsed on the sand. Kya thought about the way Chase had manipulated her with talks of marriage. All he ever wanted was sex, and once he got it, he found someone else more suitable to build his life with. In her heart, she knew she wasn’t sad about losing Chase. She was sad about losing the dream of a different life.
Once again, she spoke aloud the words of her favorite poet Amanda Hamilton—a poem about letting love go and watching it drift away. The sun burst through just then and warmed her splotch of land. When Kya sat up, she realized she was sitting among glistening rare shells unseen in this part of the coast.
Kya gathered some shells and headed back into the water. She looked at the sandy island and knew she would be the only person to ever see it. The water had created the island momentarily from shifting sand, and soon the water would rise again and move all of it to another location. It had been divine intervention that had created that piece of stable land for her to find when she needed solid ground the most.
A year had passed since Kya had seen Chase’s wedding announcement. It was now 1968, and she was twenty-two years old. One morning, she walked to the mailbox and found a large package inside. She opened it and pulled out an advance copy of The Sea Shells of the Eastern Seaboard by Catherine Danielle Clark. Her heart soared at seeing her name on her book, but she had no one to share her joy with.
After Tate took Kya’s samples to a publisher, Kya had submitted more drawings through the mail. An editor, Robert Foster, allowed the entire interaction to take place through the postal service and sent her a five-thousand-dollar advance for two books: the shell book and another on birds. It was more money than she’d ever thought about.
Kya’s book felt more like a family album with its pages filled with years of her collections. It sold well, and bookstores all along the Eastern Seaboard displayed it in their windows. Royalty checks started to flood in, sometimes made out for thousands of dollars.
Kya knew Tate was to thank for pushing her to publish. He’d helped her turn her passion into a career and made it so she never had to dig for mussels to survive again. She sent him a note at the Sea Oaks laboratory, where he now worked. She still didn’t trust Tate, but she extended an offer for him to stop by if he was ever nearby to pick up a copy of the book.
With the advance, Kya got to work on her shack. She hired a contractor to completely renovate it. He fitted the shack with electricity, indoor plumbing, a water heater, a large bathroom with a sink, tub, and toilet, and a brand-new refrigerator and stove. The only thing that remained of her old home was Ma’s wood stove. She bought new furniture for each room of the house except the kitchen, where the old family table still held court.
Once the house was in order, Kya turned to the land. She’d heard from Jumpin' that developers were thinking of turning the marsh and swamp surrounding Barkley Cove into resort hotels. She’d already seen construction around the area, watching with horror as rows of trees were bulldozed and marshes drained. She didn’t want her home to suffer the same fate.
Kya didn’t have any legal papers regarding the ownership of her home or land, so she took the Bible with her family’s names to the courthouse in town to see about attaining a deed. To her delight, Kya’s grandfather had had the land surveyed in 1897. But there were years of back taxes to be paid before the land could be officially claimed, and anyone who paid the fee would own the land. Kya was afraid that forty years of taxes would be too much to pay, but the fee was only eight hundred dollars because of how the land was zoned. She paid in cash and left with a deed for 310 acres of beachfront property. Her home would always be safe.
Tate accepted Kya’s invitation to stop by a day after receiving her letter. When he pulled up in her lagoon, the first time since the rock-throwing Christmas, he waved and gave a small smile. Kya mimicked both gestures.
Tate marveled about the beauty of her book. He wanted to hug her, but her body language suggested otherwise. Standing on the beach, he thanked her for the book and asked her to sign it. Kya thought about what she could possibly say to Tate. Then, on the front page, she wrote, “To the Feather Boy, Thank you, From the Marsh Girl.” When Tate read the words, he turned to hide his emotions. If only he could hold her. He settled for squeezing her hand.
Before Tate left, Kya thanked him for helping her the way he did. Kya felt a stirring on one side of her heart, but the other was still locked down tight. She thought maybe she might be able to be his friend or, looking at her book, even his colleague someday.
Later, Kya grabbed another copy of her book and headed to Jumpin’s. When she climbed out of the boat, she placed the book in Jumpin’s hands. He stared at it, not knowing what it was, until she pointed out her name on the cover. She thanked him for all the ways he and Mabel had taken care of her and said that she was finally okay.
Kya continued to visit Jumpin’s wharf for gas and supplies. She saw her book propped in the window of his store and knew it was the kind of thing a father would do for a daughter he was proud of.
One winter morning, Kya received a massive surprise while working on her third book, a guide to local mushrooms. From the kitchen table, she heard tires rolling over the gravelly lane to her shack. A red pickup pulled in, and she thought about running, her normal way of dealing with visitors, but it was too late. A man dressed in a military uniform was walking to her porch.
When Kya went to the door, something about the man struck a chord in her. He had a long, uneven scar running from his ear to mouth. Her mind left the moment and returned to another: the Easter Sunday before Ma had left.
That day, Kya and Ma had hidden painted eggs for the other children. When the hunt was over, each child had a basket full of pastel eggs and chocolate bunnies. Suddenly, Pa appeared drunk and angry. He grabbed Kya’s basket and raged at Ma about where she got the money for the treats. He accused her of lascivious acts and shook her by the shoulders.
Kya tried to intervene and received a hard slap across the face. Pa grabbed a fire poker and charged at Ma, slashing her in the chest. Then, Jodie was on top of Pa, wrestling him to the ground. Jodie yelled for his sister and mother to run, and Kya looked back to see Pa whip the poker across Jodie’s face. When they’d returned to the shack, Jodie was on the ground in a pool of blood. Ma stitched his face with her sewing needle, leaving a ragged scar.
Back on her porch, Kya stared at the strange man for another second before saying her brother’s name for the first time in more than a decade. Jodie moved to hug Kya, but she took a step backward and gestured for him to come in. Jodie had seen Kya’s book but wasn’t sure if it was her name on the cover. Now, looking around the shack at her collection, he knew positively that it was. He thought her book was amazing.
Over coffee, the siblings talked about Jodie’s tours in Vietnam and degree in mechanical engineering from Georgia Tech. Kya told him about Pa leaving, and Jodie was surprised to hear that she’d been there all alone since shortly after he left. He apologized for leaving her with Pa and not coming sooner. When he returned from the war, he’d assumed she was already gone.
Kya looked at her brother with emotion. She didn’t blame him. He was a victim just as she was. She asked if he knew anything about their other siblings or mother. Jodie didn’t know anything about their brother or sisters, but he’d found out a week ago that their mother had died two years earlier. Kya crumbled at the news.
Kya’s mother had suffered a breakdown after years of abuse from Pa. Little known to anyone in the family, she’d been writing letters to her sister, Rosemary, about life in the swamp and being abused. The day she left, she made her way to her hometown of New Orleans and showed up on her family’s doorstep dirty and mute.
Kya’s maternal grandfather had tried unsuccessfully to get news about the children from the Barkley Cove sheriff. Over the next year, Ma lay in a stupor in her childhood bedroom. Then, one morning, she emerged in a panic, remembering the children she’d left behind. Rosemary helped her write and send a letter to Pa asking for the children to join her in New Orleans. Pa had written back that if she tried to contact any of them again, he’d beat the children bloody. Kya remembered the letter and the end of the good times with Pa.
Ma sank into a depression, knowing she had abandoned her children and feeling powerless to do anything about it. When she was diagnosed with leukemia, she refused treatment. Her body slowly deteriorated until her death.
Kya was overcome with grief for her poor mother. She still didn’t understand why she never came back for her, but she was able to use her understanding of biological development to start to forgive her. All creatures, even humans, are evolutionary remnants of their former ancestors. Early species did things to survive that would be unthinkable today, and those instincts get passed on through the generations. Maybe Ma had felt that primitive instinct for survival when she left. It didn’t make it right, but understanding it in this way made it less painful.
Jodie took Kya outside and showed her dozens of oil paintings, ones Ma had done during her years away, that Rosemary had given him. They were all of the children in the marsh. One painting struck Kya. It was of her and Tate as small children surrounded by marsh flowers.
Kya asked how Ma knew Tate, and Jodie told her that Tate had boated into their lagoon while Pa was abusing Kya. At seven years old, Tate ran ashore and defended Kya, receiving a blow and death threat from Pa. Still, Tate had picked her up and carried her to Ma.
Jodie stayed at the shack for a few days. During that time, he learned about Kya’s survival, which was largely due to the benevolence of Jumpin' and Mabel. Jodie couldn’t believe it. He asked why Kya didn’t have any friends from school and was astonished to learn she’d never gone and that Tate had taught her to read.
They took the boat exploring in the marsh, and Jodie reminisced about their siblings. Afterward, they ate a proper southern meal at the shack. Jodie noticed that most of Kya’s stories included Tate, including the fact that he was her first love and had recently confessed that he still loved her. When Kya told him that she could never trust Tate again, Jodie tried to persuade her to give him another chance.
Before Jodie left, he and Kya hung their mother’s paintings in the shack, giving it a more open and warm feeling. Jodie said he would try to visit as often as he could, and he gave Kya his address. After all this time, Kya finally had a way to connect with her brother. The last thing Jodie told Kya was to find Tate. He climbed in the truck, and Kya waved goodbye, tears of sadness and joy streaming down her face.
Seven months after Jodie’s visit, in July 1969, Kya found a copy of her new book on seabirds in the mailbox. She carried the book into the forest, where she planned to look for mushrooms, and a familiar sight made her stop dead in her tracks. On top of the old stump was a milk carton.
Inside the carton was an antique compass and a note. The note told of the compass’s previous owner, Tate’s grandfather. Kya hadn’t seen Tate since giving him the shell book long ago and had continued to hide when she saw him on the water. She felt her heart opening, but she still felt the sting of abandonment. She put the compass in her bag and thought about how she could repay him.
Despite herself, Kya often searched for Tate on the water just to see him. One morning, she watched as he passed unsuspecting in his boat while she lay undercover in the brush. His blonde hair glistened under a red cap. She recited a poem by Amanda Hamilton about the delusion of love.
Early one morning, Kya motored to Cypress Cove, an area near town she rarely visited. She was looking for mushrooms in the cool, damp brush. She had Tate’s compass tucked into a pocket of her old backpack, and though a month had passed since receiving it, she hadn’t thanked him yet.
Kya sat on the ground drawing the mushrooms she’d discovered when she heard footsteps. A voice followed and said, “Well, look who’s here. My Marsh Girl.” Kya stood to meet Chase. She had no idea how he’d been able to sneak up on her. She hadn’t heard a boat. She gathered her items and told Chase to leave.
Chase reached for Kya’s arm. He apologized for the past, but Kya must have known they could never have been married. His breath reeked of whiskey. Kya pulled her arm away, but he grabbed it again, this time with force, and told her he knew she still loved him, and he wanted things to go back to the way they’d been. He pulled her in toward his body, and as Kya struggled, he kissed her.
Chase pushed Kya to the ground, got on top of her, and started to pull his pants down. Kya tried to push him off, but he punched her in the face. Chase leered, saying Kya was his. He wasn’t going to let her get away again. Chase held Kya with one hand and pulled down her pants with another. From somewhere deep inside, Kya’s survival instincts kicked in. She used all her force to push Chase off with her knees, then elbowed him in the face. She threw punch after punch until he was on the ground. She kicked him hard between the legs and in the lower back.
Kya pulled up her pants, grabbed her bag, and ran to her boat. As she started her boat, she saw Chase getting to his feet. She motored hard toward the open water, where another fishing boat sat, two men watching.
Kya stumbled into the shack, knees and face swollen from the attack. She cried on the floor knowing there was no one to help. Jumpin' would want to call the police, but she knew they’d never take her word over that of the former star quarterback. One thing she couldn’t stop seeing was the shell necklace around Chase’s neck. She couldn’t believe he still wore it. His words drifted through her head—“You’re mine”—and she knew he would come after her again.
Kya moved gingerly as she gathered food and supplies and headed to her boat. She motored through the channels to the secret cabin. Tate and Scupper had renovated it as a place for Tate to stay the night on his explorations, and there was now a bed, stove, and places to sit.
The first night, Kya sat outside listening for any disturbance in the brush. Satisfied that she was alone, she went inside and surveyed her body. Her legs, face, and arms were bruised and scratched, and her left eye was swollen shut. Her knees were bloody and enlarged. Kya cried, feeling the shame of having acted so promiscuously with Chase when they were together. Inside, she felt her actions had led to her current state.
Something about her bruised body made her understand for the first time what Ma’s life with Pa must have been like. Kya vowed she would never live in fear of a man’s abuse again. She went back to the shack, where she would stay until her injuries healed. She didn’t want anyone to see her discolored face.
A week after Kya’s attack, she received a letter from her editor that he would be in nearby Greenville and hoped to meet her in person. He said the publisher would pay for everything if she could handle coming to town.
Kya didn’t know what to think, so she motored through the lagoon pondering it. Toward the far side of the estuary, she saw Tate collecting samples. She tried to hide, not wanting him to see her face, but he saw her and waved her over, tempting her with a new state-of-art microscope on board his research vessel. Seeing Tate brought a slight relief to her heart.
Kya climbed aboard, keeping her bad eye away from Tate. Tate was used to her distance, but this behavior seemed weird even for her. He finally understood why when she faced him, exposing the purple and yellow bruises. Tate didn’t believe her story about running into a door in the night, but he knew better than to push her. Instead, he asked about her new book.
Kya told him about her editor’s visit. She wasn’t sure if she would go to Greenville or not, but Tate urged her to go and promised to show her how to buy a bus ticket. The two talked a bit more about her book and Tate’s work. He would have talked about anything to keep her on the boat one minute longer.
When Kya finally stood to leave, Tate said it was too cold and tossed her his red stocking hat to keep her warm. Kya caught it and tossed it back. They continued tossing the hat back and forth as she ran over the sand to her boat, laughing. Then, she and Tate grew silent staring into each other’s eyes. Kya shook the moment off and motored away.
Kya docked her boat in a different spot than usual after seeing Tate after a flock of gulls swarmed her, excited for their nightly feast. Kya walked to the beach and fed them bits of bread. The sound of a motor cut through the sky, and Kya knew it was Chase’s boat. He wouldn’t be able to see her boat where it was docked, but she was on display on the beach. She flattened her body against the sand and watched Chase motor by without noticing and enter the lagoon to her shack. His face was contorted with anger.
Kya couldn’t believe her luck. If she’d gone home the normal way, Chase would have found her. She also knew he would come to the beach when he didn’t find her at home. She got back in her boat and moved to a more hidden spot so she could see when he finally left. Thirty minutes after hearing the roar of his engine pass by, she finally went home.
That night, Kya jumped at each noise. She took her bedding to the beach and sat with the birds. Chase would keep coming back until he found her and taught her a lesson. She looked at the sea and wondered if she shouldn’t just walk in and let it consume her.
Going to Greenville seemed worthwhile in more ways than one now. She could get away for a few days and be safe, but she was also interested in meeting Robert Foster. Kya and her editor had corresponded like penpals for two years about her books, and a bond had formed. She wanted to meet the man who shared her love of nature and spoke of it with a similar poetry.
Kya went to Jumpin’s to get a bus schedule and told him about her possible trip to Greenville. But when she climbed back into her boat, Jumpin' saw the faintest hint of the bruise around her eye and asked what had happened. Like Tate, Jumpin' didn’t believe her story about the door, but unlike Tate, he didn’t let it slide. Jumpin’ asked her point blank if Chase had done that to her, and Kya told him yes, surprised at betraying her secret.
Kya begged Jumpin' not to tell. He protested, and she asked what would happen if a girl from Colored Town accused Chase of such a thing. The result would be the same. Jumpin' understood, but he didn’t like it.
Before Kya left, Jumpin' said if she ever needed a place to stay, she could stay with him and Mabel. He wanted to be updated about her trip plans because if she was gone and he didn’t know it, he’d be worried. If he didn’t see her for a few days, he was bringing a posse to her cabin to find out why.
A few days before Christmas, Kya motored toward Jumpin’s before dawn. She was more cautious than usual, had been ever since the sheriff and deputy had started coming to her shack. When she got close enough, she could make out Jumpin' on his chair near the store. She waved as she normally did, but Jumpin' didn’t move or say a word. After a second, he gave the slightest shake of his head. Kya slowed the boat, turned quickly, and headed back to her shack. Appearing out of the fog were several boats, one with the sheriff at the helm.
Kya tried to lose the boats by heading out to sea. But there was no time. The boats surrounded her, and two officers jumped into her boat and detained her. Deputy Purdue said she was under arrest for the murder of Chase Andrews and read her her rights.
Kya was held in custody in the town’s holding cells for two months. On February 25, 1970, she was led into a courtroom in handcuffs with her lawyer Tom Milton by her side. Tom had taken over for the public defender after reading about Kya’s arrest. He was from the area and had heard stories about the Marsh Girl over the years. He took her case pro bono, coming out of retirement at seventy-one.
The courtroom was packed to the rafters with townspeople, everyone wanting a chance to witness the Marsh Girl in handcuffs, a possible death sentence looming over her head. Kya didn’t look at anyone as she took her place behind the defendant’s table.
Jury selection started after the presiding judge, Judge Sims, announced that Tom’s motion to have the trial moved for bias was denied. The judge turned to two rows of jurors and asked if they would have a problem sentencing Kya to death. No one raised their hands.
Kya recognized most of the jurors from town but didn’t know their names. Two, however, she knew: Sally Culpepper, the truant officer from Kya’s youth, and the preacher’s wife, who’d rushed her little girl away the night Kya and Pa ate at the diner. All the jurors agreed to not be biased.
Hearing about her possible death made Kya’s breath catch. It wasn’t that she was afraid to die. She was afraid of dying by appointment at the hand of someone else. She’d never relied on anyone for anything, but the thought that her freedom would be hijacked at the last moment of her life terrified her.
The prosecutor, a man named Eric Chastain, was called to present his case first. He had a number of witnesses to call, each with damning evidence against Kya.
He called:
Although these witnesses’ testimonies painted a bad picture regarding Kya’s guilt, Tom was not deterred. He questioned each witness expertly, creating doubt about their statements.
After Tom’s cross examination, court was dismissed, and Kya was taken back to her cell.
Shortly after returning to her cell, a guard came to take Kya to meet with her lawyer. Tom wanted talk options. Because of the town’s prejudice against her, it would be hard to win the case. If she plead guilty to manslaughter, saying that she’d been at the tower with Chase and he’d fallen as part of a horrible accident, she could probably get ten years and be out in six. Kya outright refused. She wouldn’t say she was guilty and wouldn’t go to prison.
Back in her cell, Kya went through the events that led her there. Her family leaving, Jodie leaving, Tate leaving. If any of them had stayed, she wouldn’t be sitting in jail. That fall, Kya had become more inclined to take Jodie’s advice about Tate, but since her arrest, she’d refused to accept Tate’s visits. She hadn’t called Jodie either. Imagine finding each other after so long and then telling Jodie she’d been accused of murder. She couldn’t ask for his support. Depending on people only led to trouble.
Court was out of session the next day, and the guard told Kya the same young man who kept coming to see her was back. Kya wouldn’t budge, but after the guard said there was nothing to do all day but be cooped up in there, she went to the meeting room, where Tate was waiting.
Tate jumped to his feet and tried to hide his emotions about seeing Kya in jail. He said he’d been feeding the gulls and promised that when Kya was free, they would explore the lagoons again, like they did when they were together.
Kya told Tate to forget her, but Tate wouldn’t and never could. He’d be in court every day until it was over. Kya pleaded with him to understand. It was too late. She couldn’t trust people, didn’t belong in his world, and didn’t want to. They could be friends, but that was the best she could do. Kya thanked him for coming and went back to her cell.
The next day, when Kya was led into court, she saw Tate, Jumpin’, Mabel, and Jodie in the front row. Despite what she’d said to Tate and to herself, seeing them there filled her with renewed strength.
The next witness on the prosecution’s list was Patty Love, and as she made her way to the witness box, Kya realized the ridiculousness of ever thinking this woman would have accepted her as family.
Patty Love told the court what she’d told Ed and Joe about the shell necklace. To back up her story, she had provided a journal she’d found in Chase’s room while cleaning. Kya had given Chase the journal as a gift. Inside, she’d painted scenes from their time together. In one of the paintings, Kya clearly depicted her handing Chase the shell necklace on top of the fire tower. The audience gasped. Out of respect for the grieving mother, Tom did not cross-examine her.
Next up was Hal Miller, who told of seeing Kya speeding in her boat the morning of October 30, the same story he’d told the sheriff at the bar. Hal said he was sure it was Kya because everyone knew what her boat looked like.
Under Tom’s keen questioning, Hal relayed that the moon rose the morning of October 30 after they’d docked for the night at 2 am. He admitted it was too dark out and they were too far away to see what Kya was wearing that night. When Tom asked how he could be sure it was Kya from so far away, Hal responded she cut a particular shape in the boat, one they were all familiar with. But under pressure from Tom, Hal had to acknowledge that he could not positively say it was Kya he saw that night. The prosecution rested its case.
The morning Tom began his defense, he called Mrs. Singletary, the clerk at the Piggly Wiggly, to the stand. Mrs. Singletary testified to seeing Kya getting on and off the bus on the afternoons in question. As she spoke, the grocery store clerk glanced at Kya and remembered the unkempt barefooted girl who didn’t know how to count. Unbeknownst to anyone else, Mrs. Singletary had slyly given Kya extra change all those years, taking the money from her own paycheck to cover the difference.
Tom’s intention was to support Kya’s alibi, but Mr. Chastain told the judge that there was no reason for the string of people slated to defend Kya’s boarding and unboarding of the bus to testify, for the fact of her riding the bus at those times was not in question. The judge asked Tom if he felt the need to bring more testimony if Kya’s presence on the bus was not in question, to which Tom begrudgingly admitted he didn’t.
Next, Tom called the owner of the Three Mountains Motel in Greenville, where Kya had stayed. The man testified that he’d checked Kya in and showed her the room. Kya was the kind of woman you don’t forget, and her room was directly across from his office, so he would have noticed if she’d left at any point the night of October 29. Kya watched the man, remembering how he’d leered at her and loitered in her room until she had to ask him to leave.
Mr. Chastain listed a number of events that night that could have taken the man’s attention from Kya’s room. Between leaving his post twice to use the restroom, a pizza delivery, and other guests checking in, wasn’t it possible he’d been too distracted at times to notice? The motel owner acknowledged that it was possible but reiterated that he hadn’t seen her leave.
The next witness was Kya’s editor, Robert Foster. Kya was so embarrassed that this man she revered was witnessing her humiliation. He’d been the only person who didn’t think of her as the Marsh Girl. Robert testified that he and Kya had gone out to eat the night of October 29, and he’d dropped her off at the hotel at five to ten. The next morning, he picked her up at 7:30, and the two had breakfast. He’d taken her back at 9 am.
Mr. Chastain forced Robert to acknowledge that the company had offered to put Kya up in a fancy hotel near the downtown district, but Kya had requested the remote motel. A map of Greenville showed the close proximity between the motel and the bus station. Before he sat down, Mr. Chastain proffered that if someone wanted to make a quick getaway by bus, the motel was a better option than the fancy hotel if they were on foot.
On redirect by Tom, Robert stated that Kya was a reserved and introverted person who preferred isolation in the wilderness. It had taken some effort to even get her to agree to come, so he could understand why she might avoid a crowded hotel. He thought the choice of the remote hotel suited Kya’s character. When Robert was finished, he took a seat behind Kya with the rest of her supporters.
In the afternoon, with only two witnesses for the defense left, Kya started to unravel. Where, once, she was able to distract herself with thoughts of marsh life, now she was consumed with images of prison and her possible death sentence. She crumbled into her hands, prompting Tom to call a recess.
Kya begged Tom to go on without her. She couldn’t sit in that courtroom one more minute. But she had to attend by law, and it was easier for a jury to find an absent defendant guilty. When Kya went back to the courtroom, her mind drifted in and out of reality, and she could no longer focus on what was being said.
Tom recalled Sheriff Jackson and questioned him about the timing of Kya’s crime. With the testimony that the bus was late, the time it would take her to get to her boat, ride to the tower, perform the murder, and get back to the bus station was one hour seven minutes. But the bus to Greenville left fifty minutes after she would have arrived. There simply wasn’t time to do everything needed to commit the crime.
Ed speculated that she could have saved a minute or two here or there if she’d jogged, but he was flustered. The sheriff also suggested that maybe she hadn’t taken the boat. Maybe she’d run from the station to the tower by foot. At the prosecution’s table, Mr. Chastain burned with fury. The sheriff was dismantling his theory.
To make up lost ground, the prosecutor explained that the water surrounding Barkley Cove was often caught in riptides and undertow currents that caused it to move faster. Someone could have taken advantage of a riptide and traveled to the tower faster than normal. But the sheriff had no proof that these events had occurred on the night in question.
The last day of the trial began with Tom calling his final witness. It was Tim O’Neal, the owner of the shrimping company Hal and Allen worked for. He’d also been out that night in a separate vessel and seen the same boat as his crew members. But Tim explained that without the moon and no lights, it was impossible to make a positive ID about who was in the boat. Also, Kya’s boat was one of the most popular styles, and many people in town had similar boats. With that, the witness testimonies came to a close.
Closing arguments followed a short recess, and the prosecution was up first. Mr. Chastain reiterated the evidence against Kya, adding that her lifestyle in the wild gave her specific knowledge about how to navigate the water and land in the dark. From where he was standing, the case against Kya was clear and worthy of a conviction of first-degree murder.
Tom took a different approach. He started by locating himself as one of Barkley Cove’s residents who’d heard the stories and rumors about the Marsh Girl. His speech turned emotional when he spoke about the failure of the community to support a little girl left to her own devices, choosing to ridicule and ostracize her instead. He said only Jumpin' and his community stepped up to help Kya survive as a child. If the community had stepped in and helped this girl, her life could have been different and a town full of people wouldn’t be prejudiced against her.
Tom paused, preparing for his emotional ending. Despite her circumstances and lack of schooling, this woman, who Barkley Cove reduced to Marsh Girl, was now heralded as the Marsh Expert in scientific communities. He said it was time for this community to put aside their prejudices and see this woman for who she was. Let the persecution of this young woman finally be over.
Kya’s supporters, including Scupper, who’d shown up in court a few days earlier to support his son, were impatient for the verdict. Tom told them he couldn’t predict how long the jury would deliberate or what their verdict would be but reminded them that even with a guilty verdict, the fight wasn’t over.
The jury asked for documents twice. The first was the bus drivers’ transcripts. The second was the coroner’s transcript. The hours dragged, and as her support team sat unsettled, so did Kya in her cell. She had lived a life of loneliness, but waiting for the verdict created a sensation like she’d never known. Thinking of never seeing her beautiful marsh again made her feel more alone than before.
At four o’clock the same day, the jury had a decision. Tom delivered the news with a solemn expression. A verdict this fast didn’t bode well for Kya. The townspeople clustered back into the courtroom, which was at capacity within ten minutes.
Judge Sims asked Kya to rise. Jumpin' and Mabel clasped hands. Tate leaned as far as he could toward Kya’s back. The energy in the room had shifted from before. The salivating eagerness of community to condemn Kya was gone. Now, most people stared at the floor. Tom’s words had shown them their folly.
When the verdict of not guilty echoed through the breathless courtroom, everyone had different reactions. Kya’s supporters gasped with relief, cried, and hugged. Other’s comforted a sobbing Patty Love. Some grew angry, demanding an explanation and pointing the finger at the ineptitude of Sheriff Jackson. Others showed a similar disappointment, but inside, they were overjoyed. These few included Mrs. Singletary, Mrs. Culpepper, and Pansy Price. Soon, the roar died down, and people left the courthouse to return to their regular lives.
Jodie drove Kya home from the jail. She was anxious to see her shack and the environment that had saved her all those years. She rushed into the shack and touched every possession. Jodie had a bag of crumbs waiting for her, and she ran to the beach, tossing crumbs to her seabirds and crying with joy.
When Kya got back to the shack, she was surprised to find Jodie still in it, so used to being alone. Jodie asked Kya to sit and have tea with him. He wanted to stay and help her readjust for a few days, and he didn’t want what had happened to harden her even more against people. Jodie saw the verdict as a new beginning and thought people would accept her now.
Kya didn’t want to hear anything Jodie had to say. She wanted to be alone, as she’d always been. Kya left the shack and disappeared into the forest, but Jodie couldn’t bring himself to leave. He made dinner, hoping to try again when Kya returned, but she never did.
Kya waited for Jodie to leave before she returned home. She tried to paint, but the images were dark and angry. Kya didn’t know what to do with all the furious emotions she felt, and she was suddenly remorseful for the way she’d treated Jodie. She sank to the floor and cried. Later, Kya found a pelican feather on the beach. It reminded her of the one Tate had given her. She recited a poem by Amanda Hamilton about trying to break free but being haunted by her lover’s eyes.
The day after returning home, Kya motored through the lagoon and into the channels of her land. She felt free on the water with nothing to stop her from working on her collection the whole day. Somewhere deep in her mind, she thought maybe she’d see Tate. Maybe she could invite him to eat the dinner Jodie made, which she hadn’t touched.
Tate was thinking similar thoughts. He had motored to the shallow waters surrounding Kya’s land early to collect samples. He wanted to be close to her, hoping he might see her out there. If he didn’t, he swore he was going to her house that night and would do his best to win her back.
Out of nowhere, the roar of a mighty engine swept over the water. Tate watched as a flashy airboat pulled toward him. In the boat, he saw Ed, Joe, and another man. Kya also heard the boat and moved closer. When she saw the men approaching Tate, she slid into the overgrowth and watched. The men talked to Tate, and his body language changed. His shoulders slumped, and his head dipped in surrender. Joe pulled Tate into the boat, and the other man jumped into Tate’s. The two boats turned and headed to Barkley Cove.
Kya was confused and anguished. She realized that seeing Tate had been the biggest motivator for her venturing into the water all these years. Even when she hated him, she always hoped to see him around a bend. Now, what would keep her moving forward if he was no longer there?
Tate stood over the grave of his father, guilt and remorse coursing through him. He’d spent so much time wrapped up with Kya’s case and trial, he’d neglected to spend time with Scupper. If he had, he may have noticed his father’s heart was failing.
Everyone from Barkley Cove attended the funeral, everyone but Kya. Fisherman and others who’d known Scupper patted Tate on the back and gave their condolences. After the service, Tate asked for his father’s forgiveness. He felt in his heart that Scupper would forgive him anything. Scupper’s appearance at Kya’s trial was his way of saying he understood Tate’s heart. Tate looked over the water and hoped Scupper was on a red fishing boat wherever he was. He set a record player next to the fresh grave and put on Scupper’s favorite opera record.
When Tate got back to the dock, he climbed in his laboratory vessel and saw a feather on his seat. It was the breast feather of a night heron, a bird not normally seen this close to the sea. He knew who had left it.
Tate motored to Kya’s lagoon and waited on the beach as she exited the shack. When she was close enough, he grabbed her and pulled her in. He told her he loved her and always had. She told him the same. Tate said there couldn’t be any more running. If she was going to love him, it had to be completely. Kya grabbed his hand and led him into the woods.
That night, they slept on the beach, and Tate became a resident of the shack a day later. As they walked along the shore, Tate asked Kya to marry him. She told him they were already married according to nature, and he accepted that as enough.
Kya and Tate settled into a routine. They ate breakfast every morning, then explored the estuaries, with Tate performing his duties for the lab and Kya collecting specimens for more books. At night, they drifted in her boat and swam naked in the moonlight.
The contractor who’d renovated Kya’s home built a lab for Tate and a studio for Kya behind the shack. They expanded the bedroom and living area inside, and the shack became a cozy cabin. Jodie and his wife, Libby, often visited, and the four of them would explore the marsh.
Kya never stepped foot in Barkley Cove again. Her life and trial became folklore around town, and the townspeople spoke of seeing her moving through the water in her boat as though she were a mythical creature. Theories were postulated over the years about what had happened to Chase Andrews, but nothing ever came of them. Everybody believed that Sheriff Jackson had mishandled the case and was wrong for accusing Kya. He was never reelected, and each new sheriff attempted to reopen the case, but eventually, the circumstances of Chase’s death became lore, as well.
One afternoon years later, Tate pulled ashore and told Kya that Jumpin' had passed. Kya felt a chasm of grief open up inside. Like Scupper’s funeral, the whole town showed up for Jumpin’s. Again, Kya did not attend. She held a private ceremony on her beach and said goodbye in her own way. After the funeral, Kya took a jar of homemade jam to Mabel’s. Mabel embraced her, and the two women cried in each other’s arms. Mabel said Jumpin’ thought of Kya like a daughter, and Kya said Jumpin’ was her real pa.
Saying goodbye to Jumpin’ brought up feelings of Kya’s mother. She took a moment to say goodbye to her past. She remembered the day Ma walked down the lane in her crocodile shoes, but this time, Ma stopped and waved. Kya felt a release for the first time. Her grief was replaced by joy when Jodie started bringing his children, Murph and Mindy, to visit. Finally, Kya was surrounded in the shack by family.
Barkley Cove was not spared from gentrification over the years. Jumpin’s wharf became an upscale marina, and the little shops on Main Street became boutiques. Grits became polenta, and every establishment was desegregated. Tate worked at the lab for the rest of his career, and Kya published seven more books, all of which won awards. She was given an honorary doctoral degree from UNC but never accepted invitations to speak.
Kya and Tate were inseparable. They’d tried to conceive a child, but it never happened. As her relationship grew on solid ground, so did Kya’s understanding of connection. She saw that human love was more than just mating rituals, but she didn’t regret growing up in a world dictated by the laws of nature. She was connected to the land in a way no one else could understand. The land had raised her, and it was as much a fabric of her life as anything humans could provide.
One afternoon, when Kya was sixty-four, she didn’t return from exploring in her boat. Tate went to search for her and found her lying back in the boat, seeming to be sleeping. When he got closer, fear gripped his heart. He shouted her name, but she didn’t move. Tate pulled her up by the shoulders, her long hair, now stark white, flowed behind her. He screamed his anguish to the sky and held her, rocking back and forth.
Tate buried Kya below an oak tree near the water. All the people who had once condemned her lined up to pay their respects. They had grown to marvel at the way she had survived and the life she was able to make for herself with everything that had happened. On her tombstone, Tate chose an epitaph he felt represented Kya’s life well. She had become a legend in their community, and her nickname was now distinguished. The tombstone read: “Catherine Danielle Clark, ‘Kya’, The Marsh Girl, 1945–2009.”
After all the mourners had left, Tate walked to Kya’s studio and labeled the samples she hadn’t gotten to yet. Her looked at her collection, fifty years in the making, and knew he would keep it just as she’d left it. She’d wanted it donated to Tate’s lab, but he wasn’t ready to let go yet.
Tate went back to the cabin and started preparing food for the birds. He stirred a pot of mush absentmindedly, thinking of Kya. Then, he saw something that brought him back. Next to the kitchen stove lay the wood pile Kya had always kept stacked high, even in the warm months. At the edge, he noticed the new tiles they’d installed didn’t reach underneath the pile.
Tate leaned down and moved the wood aside until he saw a cutout in the floorboards. He lifted the boards and revealed a hidden compartment encompassing a dusty cardboard box. Inside the box were several manilla envelopes, all labeled “A.H.” and a smaller box. The poems of Amanda Hamilton lay inside each envelope written in Kya’s hand. Tate couldn’t believe it. His wife was the poet and had secretly reached out to the world, sharing her most private feelings, and no one had ever known.
There was another envelope that housed only one poem called “The Firefly.” The words described something unmistakable. Kya’s poem was about watching a lover fall into another world, taking his life and their love with them. Tate gasped. He made sure no one was outside before he reached for the smaller box. He didn’t need to open it to know it held Chase’s shell necklace.
Tate sat at the table that night going over what must have happened the morning of October 30. He saw her disguised on the buses, riding the riptide and avoiding the moon based on her keen knowledge, luring Chase toward her, her hands on his chest as she moved him closer to the open grate. She knew how to cover her tracks and vanish without a trace.
Tate made a fire and burned the poems and piece of rawhide the shell had hung from. He replaced the boards and wood. He took the shell to the beach and placed it on the sand, where it became just another shell among so many others. The tide came in and washed the shells back to sea, taking Kya’s secret with them.
Although the circumstances of Kya’s journey are particular and uncommon, the themes resonating from her story are more universal.
What are your main thematic takeaways from the story of Kya’s life and struggles?
In what ways did you Kya’s journey remind you of your own life?
Can you relate to Kya’s views on love? In what ways?
How did the book’s ending affect your personal ethics? What would you have done differently in Kya’s shoes?