The Swamp Thing
THE SWAMP THING.
by
Clem Mason.
(age-6-10)
(wc-2340)
Tales of the beast is common knowledge among the students at Morgan City elementary. He is 10 ft. tall and said to weight 500 lbs. They claim his body is covered with hair and he can run like a deer. He never comes within sight of town however but lives on an island up Sixmile Lake. The most frightening thing about him is that it is rumored he eats small children, slow cooked over a fire pit. Some locals claim to have seen him but have not tried to seek him out or capture him. He is much too cunning.
So when Rachael, Katie and Dot, all eleven, made plans to take a boat up Sixmile Lake to find the beast, they asked Tabby (short for Tabetha), who was eight years old, if she wanted to come along. Now those girls are what most town people refer to as snot nosed, little rich kids from the more affluent part of Morgan City, Louisiana. Tabby comes from the poorer part of Bayou Vista. They’re not what Tabby would call her best friends. In fact, Tabby really doesn’t have any close friends. She is much too poor to fit in with that gang or any group for that matter but really didn’t reason why she was being asked along. She was just honored to be invited. As it turns out, their plan all along was to strand Tabby on the island and leave her there. They didn’t really like her at all.
Tabby agreed to meet them early Saturday morning. She didn’t tell her parents where she was going or why. She quietly packed a small lunch and left the house and waited on the dock. It wasn’t long before she heard the purr of a small motorboat and the girls waved at her when she came into sight.
“This is going to be so much fun,” Rachael said as they pulled up to the dock. She flatters herself to be the most popular girl in school and the leader of the gang. Dot and Katie just go along though Rachael has gotten them into trouble more than once.
Tabby crawled aboard and away they went, up the narrow lake. It was a cool morning and the banks along the lake were shrouded in patchy fog. Slowly, they made their way until Rachael pulled up to an island. She beached the small boat and crawled ashore.
“This is it,” she said. “I asked my dad and he said that possibly the swamp thing lives on this island. Let’s go find him.”
They all just set there in the boat, looking from one to the other.
Rachael cleared her throat. “Come on girls. Don’t you remember the plan?”
“Oh, yeah,” Dot said. “And what do we do if we find him?” she asked, getting out of the boat.
Rachael produced a pocket camera. “We’re going to take his picture, dummy,” she said.
‘Now here’s the plan. Katie, you and Dot go that way and Tabby and I will go this way,” she said, pointing. Tabby didn’t see Rachael wink her eye at her friends.
“Come on, Tabby. Let’s go find us a swamp creature.” With that said, Rachael hurried off up the shoreline. Tabby went after her. In a moment, Rachael stopped. “You know, I think we should go in.”
“In? Tabby asked.
“Go In. You know, like go into the swamp. We’re not going to find anything out here. We have to go where we’re likely to find him.”
She reached to part the reeds and hesitated.
“Tabby, you live by the swamp, don’t you? Why don’t you lead the way.”
“I…I guess so.” Tabby said.
So she pushed into the reeds and didn’t hear Rachael run away. In a Moment, she realized she was by herself, twenty feet into the swamp. “Rachael?” she called. There was no answer. “Rachael,” she called again and again there was no answer. Then, faintly, she heard the purr of a small motorboat motor. She rushed back to the shoreline just in time to see the boat with three girls disappear around the bend. They were laughing. They had stranded her on the island with the swamp thing as they had planned all along. “Help, somebody help me,” Tabby cried out. There was no answer. She screamed again; “Help me.” She began to cry for fear of her life.
Tabby reasoned she couldn’t stay there so she followed the shoreline until she saw the alligator lying in wait for its next meal. She quickly dropped down behind a fallen log. It didn’t see her. She went back the way she’d come. The going was hard because of the reeds hugging the shoreline and the trees that were hanging on by their roots to keep from falling into the lake. When she crawled over the huge log and near stepped on another alligator, she screamed. The alligator hissed and vanished into the lake with a loud splash. She tried to watch to see where it went but could not. She thought the safest place for her to be was on top of that huge log. So she waited, all day, occasionally screaming out; “Help me.”
She was glad she had taken the time to pack a lunch. She pulled the sack from her pocket and ate, sniffing quietly as she cried. She was trembling with fear. She didn’t know where the alligator went and she was afraid the swamp thing would find her.
Then she realized that she had been screaming for help and might be leading the dreaded creature right to her location. What was she to do? She remained quiet. She cried as softly as she could.
Then, she began to feel as if she was being watched. The hair on her neck stood up and goose bumps appeared on her arm. She looked about without moving her head. She saw nothing. Then she smelt it. She jerked around and there it was, standing at the end of the log where she was sitting. No, it wasn’t ten foot tall and didn’t weigh 500 lbs. but it did have a face full of beard and it was watching her. She screamed a blood curdling scream and bolted off the log, along the shoreline. She ran as fast as she could, occasionally slipping and near falling into the lake. Suddenly, there before her lay the biggest alligator she had ever seen and he was but an instant away from snapping his big jaws around her and taking her life away.
Suddenly, she was lifted out of danger. The alligator flung itself into the lake. The swamp thing had his huge hands around her waist and held her up at arm length, looking at her with contempt.
“Look like gator bait to me,” he said, shaking his head.
Tabby started sobbing. “Please don’t eat me. Please. I’m only eight years old.”
He softly squeezed her ribs. “You don’t have enough meat on your bones to make a good meal,” he said.
Tabby sobbed all the more. “I was stranded here by some friends. I don’t mean any harm. Please don’t eat me,” she cried.
The swamp thing snorted. “Some friends they be, eh? It dirty trick I think.”
Tabby nodded, sniffing loudly.
He set her down. “Don try to run; I will catch you again. I don want no trouble, eh?”
Again, Tabby nodded. “I won’t run; I promise. Just please don’t eat me.”
He rolled his eyes. “I won’t eat you,” he assured her.
Tabby frowned. “They say you do; all the stories?”
He chuckled. “Stories?”
She nodded, frowning. “So, you don’t eat kids?”
He hesitated. “Yes! I do eat kids,” he assured her.
Tabby whimpered for fear of her life. “You do?”
“I eat young goat,” he explained. “So, you say I eat kids, okay?”
Tabby let a sigh. “I was really afraid I was going to be your next meal.”
“You be the first, okay?” he said, lightly poking her ribs with a huge finger. He smiled.
“My name is tabby. That’s short for Tabetha.” She extended her hand in friendship.
He looked at her a long time. Then his hand swallowed up hers. “I be Jon. Jon Crouix.”
She swallowed hard. “Do you live around here?”
They both laughed. “I be here maybe 500 hundred years.”
Her eyes grew big. “Really?”
He chuckled again. “No! I be born on this island maybe forty..fifty years. Come,” he said. “It will be dark soon and we must go to my shack before dark.”
Tabby sucked in a breath. “I…I can’t stay here. Can’t you take me home?”
“Tomorrow,” he said bluntly.
“But…but I can’t stay here. My parents will wonder where I am. They’ll come looking.”
“They no come here after dark. Your friends won’t tell them, I betcha.”
“But…”
“Tomorrow!”
His was a crude hut, constructed of discarded material standing in the middle of a man made clearing. There was a single sow nursing four or five young housed in a pen and several goat; tethered to a tree. He had a very well manicured vegetable garden to the side.
“I eat dem and sometime dem,” he said, pointing. “I don eat…children.”
Tabby was greatly relieved but dreaded the thought of spending the night with this huge, hairy man.
He led her inside the cabin, retrieved a faded shirt and tossed it to her. “Take your clothes off and I will wash dem,” he said.
Tabby hesitated. “I’m fine,” she said.
Jon snorted. “You all muddy. Wear de shirt and I will wash.”
Tabby threw the shirt on the floor. “I’m not going to put on this smelly ole shirt.”
Jon looked at her a long time. “I may not smell so good but I am clean.” He couldn’t hide the hurt expression on his face.
Tabby leaned and picked up the shirt. “Okay, but don’t you look.”
He laughed. “You too skinny to look at, I think.”
After washing out the mud from her clothes, Jon hung them near the fire to dry. On the fire was a single skillet with the most pleasant aroma emitting from it. Tabby was very hungry.
“That sure smells good,” she said.
“I think you like, maybe. It be alligator stew.”
“Alligator?” she asked. “No way, Jose. I’m Not eating no alligator”
“Better you eat him than he eat you, okay?”
It was delicious.
“Jon, did you go to school?” she asked.
“No.” He shifted nervously.
“So you can’t read or write?”
He shook his head. “No need.”
Tabby thought a moment. “Would you like me to teach you?
He looked at her and shrugged. “No need. I sleep now,” Jon announced as it was getting very late.
Where am I going to sleep?” she asked.
“I sleep out dare an you sleep dare. That be my bed, okay?
She nodded.
After cleaning up the supper dishes, Jon stepped out into the darkness and disappeared into the night. Tabby didn’t hear another sound until she heard the screen door open the next morning.
He looked at her and smiled. “Good morning, little Tabby.”
“Good morning, Jon,” she said.
“I think I make breakfast now, okay?” he said.
It was getting on to noon as the sun was straight up. Tabby began to wonder when the dreaded swamp thing was going to take her home.
“Are you going to take me home, Jon,” she asked.
He didn’t answer and was silent a long time so Tabby asked him again.
“I don take you I think,” he said eventually.
“What?” Tabby stammered. “I…I thought you said ….”
“I be here…long time now, many years maybe and no one come and I like it that way, I think. But you come, a lost little girl and you okay. I like you. You make me see I not … be happy. I am a lonely man I think. More than I know before today. I don think I take you back, okay?”
Tabby was shocked. “No! That’s not okay. You promised,” she reasoned.
“No. I no promise.”
Jon was silent a long time again. Then he started thinking aloud. “If I keep you, your family will miss you and there will be beeg trouble for me, no? If I take you back, I will miss you.” He sat thinking a moment. “I think it better if I miss you. Okay?”
Tabby smiled. “I will miss you also,” she admitted. “You are not the monster everyone tells about. First of all, you’re not ten feet tall and you don’t weigh 500 lbs. and mainly, you don’t eat kids.”
He gave her a wry stare.
“You don’t eat children.” They both laughed.
Jon poled his flat bottom boat to shore a few miles up from up Bayou Vista and Tabby jumped out.
“Jon, I’m not going to tell anyone the truth about you, okay?”
He shrugged sadly. “That be okay, maybe.”
Then she almost started crying. “Will I ever see you again?”
Again, he shrugged but said nothing.
“I just can’t say goodbye and have that be it,” she whimpered.
He pushed his boat into the lake. “Goodbye is all we have left,” he said as he poled away.
“I’ll never forget you,” she called to him. He didn’t respond.
She watched the swamp thing disappear, back into his domain. It saddened her and she cried openly. “I might not ever see him again.”
To this day, stories of the swamp thing are still the main topic in many a school room discussion; and the truth about him was never revealed. Just as it should be.
THE END.
If you liked this story and you feel the poor, old author deserves compensation in his retirement for this creation, please feel free to send $1.00 to Clem Mason, c/o Backwater Publishing. 66021-0213.
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