How to Climb an Airboat Cage

New Southerner

It’s a date, or rather, three’s a crowd. My sister’s boyfriend, Cary Boy, will swing by our place Saturday morning at seven for a cruise on his airboat. It’s my job to make ham sandwiches and “stay the hell out of the way,” my sister Katy’s mantra ladled with the rich venom only homecoming queens can dish.

Although my sister acts like she doesn’t want me along, I know that for this particular outing, she’s relieved to have my company. Even at 17, I’m still tomboy enough to dig an airboat ride. We’ve both grown up on five acres in Delray Beach, at the edge of the Loxahatchee Wildlife Refuge, but I’m the only one who’s really embraced the place.

Full essay published by New Southerner.

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Copyright © 2017 Kerri Dieffenwierth