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You’re one to talk about talking crap, Forester.” Dunstan’s voice interrupts the memory, and I can’t help but feel a little grateful. “Accusing my dad of poisoning the swamp? What a bunch of bull.””It’s not bull,”I snarl. “Your dad’s dumping trash into the swamp and you know it!”Dunstan finally loses it and stands up. The boat tilts dangerously. Melanie and the twins shriek, grasping the sides like they’re glued to them.”You two sit down this minute!” Babette bellows. She’s holding onto the motor for dear life. Neither of us listens.”You wanna run that by me again?” Dunstan growls. His fingers curl into fists.”Your. Dad. Is. Poisoning. The. Swamp.” I let each word out slowly like Dunstan’s a dumb little kid who needs help understanding.
