Swamp Thing 2 - The Return of Swamp Thing

by Peter David

  Great, green life broke through every stone and fissure of the Arcane Mansion, invading that bastion against nature, filling every inch with grass and trees and brush. Within minutes the mansion had been reclaimed.

  And then the Swamp Thing shrugged.

  The mansion collapsed in on itself, crashing with a roar, unable to stand even for a moment against the fury of the swamp god who had decided to erase the abomination of Arcane and his people from the face of the earth.

  For long minutes afterward the rumbling and the aftershocks continued.

  And slowly . . .

  . . . slowly . . .

  His wrath subsided.

  The great red eyes of the mountain went dark.

  There was silence for a time then, and then small popping and splutching sounds.

  The Swamp Thing reformed himself from the crevices between the great pieces of concrete. He grew there, next to Abby, who had lain peacefully untouched during the horror that had erupted.

  He lifted her up gently in his great, mossy arms. He cradled her, amazed at her lack of weight. How could something that, moments before had been so substantial, now seem nonexistent. She seemed so at peace . . . a peace he would never know.

  And without a word, he carried her away, leaving the Arcane Mansion to whatever predators and beasts and bits of vegetation chose to take up residence in its remnants.

  18

  He laid her down in the bough of the tree that would have been her home. He stroked her cheek tenderly, and he wanted to cry—he wanted to cry so much . . .

  He forced moisture from the leaves near his eyes and felt the water trickle down his face. Then, slowly, he shook his head and placed his wet cheek against her face.

  He left his body for what he was certain would be the last time.

  From a safe distance, Omar softly clicked off several shots. “Got it,” he whispered. “They are both sleeping I think.”

  “All right, let’s get outta here,” said Darryl. “Where to?”

  “Wherever’s closest. Man, I’m going to buy me a Corvette with the money we get from this.”

  “What about me?”

  “Get your own Corvette.”

  I plunge into the green . . . deeper than I have ever gone . . . down until I am beyond the green . . . beyond the earth . . . and into the blackness of nothingness . . . where I will reside from now on.

  Earth mother . . . why?

  Why?

  I thought . . . I was doing as you wished. I thought you desired . . . that I reclaim . . . my human heritage. Yet now . . . she is gone from me. She whom I love . . . and cherish . . . above all others. How can I return . . . when even to look at humans . . . will be painful beyond words? Answer me.

  Why have you forsaken me . . . earth mother?

  (What is that?)

  Somewhere in the darkness beyond . . . I see a small globe . . . of light . . . and beauty.

  It comes closer to me . . . and infuses me . . . with its peace . . . and understanding.

  And I begin . . . to comprehend . . . the way . . . and the why.

  If I am to be the bridge . . . between humanity and nature . . . then I must remember all that is required . . . to be fully human.

  I must know the joy . . . and the tragedy . . . the peace . . . and the conflict.

  If I am to understand . . . the miracle and exhilaration of birth . . . then I must understand . . . the full nature of grief . . . at the loss of a loved one.

  Once . . . I knew these things . . . but I had buried them . . . deep in the earth . . . in the green . . . for they were too painful . . . and it was so much easier . . . to hide.

  But, earth mother . . . I need Abby. Despite all I have learned . . . there will be no joy . . . without her . . . She is mine . . . and I hers . . . and without her . . . I shall always be . . . no more than a thing.

  The globe . . . hovers close to me . . . and radiates the colors . . . of the rainbow . . . and a familiar warmth. I reach out to it . . . and clasp it to my bosom . . . and rejoice.

  I shall continue to learn from her . . . and grow to be more human . . . and she shall learn more . . . of nature . . . and perhaps one day . . . humanity and nature . . . will regain the harmony there was . . . at the beginning.

  The rose . . . the orchid, in its beauty . . . and completeness . . . the one . . .

  Return to me, Abby. Share my life . . . be my life. All I am . . . and ever shall be . . . I give to you . . . forever.

  19

  Abby opened her eyes slowly, not certain what she expected to see.

  She saw Alec looking down at her. He seemed nervous, concerned, until she smiled up at him, and then he returned it.

  “Hey, Alec,” she whispered, prodding him gently. “Is that a tuber in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”

  He stroked her face gently. “I . . . am happy to see you.”

  “What happened? I—” She started to sit up. “This is going to sound strange, but . . . did I die?”

  Slowly he nodded.

  “Then how . . . what did . . . how . . . ?”

  He placed a finger against her lips. “I . . . pulled some strings. Although . . . there may be . . . side effects . . .”

  “If one of the effects is that I wind up at your side, I can live with that. Unless you’re attached to this swinging bachelor life-style?”

  “Not necessarily.” He smiled.

  Omar and Darryl stumbled about in the night until they finally reached the darkened motel. They glanced at each other, and Omar whispered, “It’s late. Probably nobody awake.”

  “I’m awake” came a British voice from the lobby.

  They opened the screen door, and the man behind the desk reacted with surprise. “Bloody knob didn’t come off! Maybe that’s a sign of good things to come. What can I do for you gents?”

  “We need a place that develops film. But we don’t want to send it out or nothin’,” said Omar. “We’re not letting this baby out of our sight.”

  “You happen to be in luck,” said the long-haired man. “I have a darkroom in the back. I can handle it for you. Let’s see the film.”

  Quickly Omar wound it back, the opened up the back of the camera.

  He stared at it for so long, Darryl looked in as well. “Uh oh.”

  “You didn’t put film in the camera?” said Omar hoarsely.

  “Me! You’re the photographer” came the indignant response.

  “That’s right, but it’s your camera!”

  “Who said I had to load it?”

  The boys were now nose-to-nose. “I did!” said Omar.

  “No, you just said take the other film out. You didn’t say put in a new roll!”

  “You’ve got a Twinkie between your ears, you know that?! We missed getting pictures of the Swamp Thing, and it’s all your fault!”

  “Shut up, Omie!”

  “No, you shut up!”

  Chuckling softly to himself, the desk clerk moved away and said, “Nice to know everything’s back to abnormal.”

  I hold her close to me . . . for nothing will ever steal her from me . . . again.

  As long as I am with her . . . I shall continue to change and grow . . . and learn.

  And as long as she is with me . . . she shall grow as well . . . although perhaps not in the way . . . she presumes.

  She chatters lovingly . . . making light comments . . . about my putting down roots in the community . . . and raising sprouts. I nod thoughtfully . . . and reach around . . . and pluck a lovely orchid . . . from between her shoulder blades.

  And I am whole.

 

 

 
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