Evil Whispers

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Evil Whispers Page 2

by Goingback, Owl


  Pulling off the road, Robert parked in a space reserved for overnight guests. Switching off the ignition, he climbed out of the car. Janet and Krissy followed him.

  It was a little after sundown, but the temperature was still in the upper sixties, a far cry warmer than what they had left behind in Missouri. In fact, it was much too hot for long sleeves, so Robert decided to leave his jacket in the car. Closing the door, he turned to look over the camp. He also took a deep breath, intrigued by a flowery smell that hung heavy on the air. He wasn’t sure if it was the scent of magnolia or orange blossom, but it was extremely pleasant.

  “Mmmm....that smells good,” Krissy said, obviously smelling the same thing Robert did. “What is that?”

  Robert shook his head. “I’m not sure. Maybe a magnolia tree. Or orange blossoms.”

  “It’s night-blooming jasmine,” said a voice from behind them. “We’ve got a patch of it growing behind the restaurant.”

  The three of them turned to see an older man coming out of the closest cabin. He stood about five eight, and probably weighed a little over two hundred pounds, his skin wrinkled and tan from long years spent in the hot Florida sun. He wore a pale blue fishing cap and sported a neatly trimmed white beard. On his arms were several tattoos that spoke of military service, probably in the Navy. The man looked to be in his early sixties, but he might have been older. It was hard to tell the age of someone who had spent the better part of his life outdoors.

  “You must be the Pattersons,” the man said as he approached them.

  “That’s us,” Robert replied. “I’m Robert. This is my wife, Janet, and our daughter, Krissy.”

  “Pleased to meet you.” The man nodded to Janet and Krissy, and shook hands with Robert. “I’m Ross Sanders. We spoke on the phone. Welcome to Blackwater Fish Camp. We’ve got a cabin all ready for you.”

  “That’s great.” Robert smiled.

  “I just need to get the keys out of the office, and have you to sign a registration form. The restaurant’s still open, if any of you are hungry. And the lounge doesn’t close until midnight.”

  “I’m starving,” Janet said.

  “Me too,” Krissy added.

  Ross smiled. “Well, then you’re in luck. The food’s not fancy, but it’s good. And there’s plenty of it. If you like old-fashioned country cooking, you won’t be disappointed. My wife, Mary, is an excellent cook.” To prove his point, Ross placed both his palms on his midsection and shook his ample stomach. “See what I mean? I wouldn’t be so fat if it wasn’t good.”

  Krissy giggled.

  Ross smiled at the girl. “Think that’s funny? Just you wait. You’ll be this big after you eat. That’s a promise.”

  “No, I won’t.”

  “Sure you will,” Ross teased. “You like catfish? We have them fresh from the river. I believe Mary also cooked up a meat loaf. And there’s always fried chicken, or hamburgers.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Robert said. “I haven’t had fresh catfish in a long time.”

  “Then you’re in for a treat.” Ross smiled. “Mary serves them up with French fries and homemade hushpuppies.”

  They followed Ross into the office, which was nothing more than a side room in the bait and tackle shop. Robert filled out the registration form and was handed two keys to cabin number seven. He was also given a brochure about the camp and a map of the river.

  “If you need to rent any fishing gear, then come see me in the morning. We’ve also got plenty of canoes and flat-bottomed boats. Since you’re staying with us, you get a fifty percent discount on everything you rent. Everything except bait. You have to buy that.”

  He looked down at Krissy. “What do you like to fish with, darling? Crickets, nightcrawlers, or minnows?”

  “Worms,” Krissy answered. “Rubber ones.”

  Ross laughed. “Good choice. Rubber worms aren’t nearly as messy as the real things, and the bass seem to love them. Now, if you get bored with fishing and want to take a hike, there’s a nature trail that starts on the backside of the camp.”

  “That sounds like fun,” Janet said. “It would be nice to take a walk after breakfast.”

  “Morning is the best time for walking,” Ross agreed. “Nice and cool then. Though it won’t really get all that hot this time of year. There’s also more critters out and about in the morning than there are in the afternoon: raccoons, deer, eagles, hawks. If you’re lucky you might even see an alligator, or a black bear.”

  “You have bears?” Janet asked, concerned. “Are they dangerous?”

  “Not as long as you don’t try to feed them,” Ross answered. “If you do take the trail, follow the signs. Part of the boardwalk caught fire and burned a few years ago, and we just haven’t had time to repair the damage, so a few sections of the trail are now closed to the public.”

  “I’ll be sure to follow the signs,” Janet reassured him.

  “You’ll also want to keep a sharp eye on your little one,” he said, smiling at Krissy. “It’s a pretty big forest, and you wouldn’t want her wandering around in it by herself.”

  “Don’t worry. We’ll keep an eye on her,” Robert replied, patting Krissy on the head.

  Ross nodded. “Now, let’s see about getting you folks something to eat.”

  They followed Ross out of the bait and tackle shop to the very next building, which housed a small restaurant and an even smaller lounge, the two being separated by an interior wall. Ross explained that a lot of the fishermen liked to have a beer or two when they came in off the river, and he didn’t want their tall tales and cigarette smoke to offend the dinner crowds, so he kept the two establishments separate, even if they were in the same building.

  Sitting by the front door of the restaurant was a large black Labrador who sported an equally black eye patch over his left eye. The dog stood up and wagged his tail when he spotted Ross and the Pattersons approaching the restaurant.

  “You waiting for a handout, boy?” Ross asked, causing the dog to wag his tail even harder. “Don’t let Mary catch you sitting here. You know she doesn’t like you bothering the customers.”

  Ross patted the dog on the head and turned to the others. “This here is Patch. He’s the official camp dog. Don’t worry, he doesn’t bite. But he will become your devoted servant if you give him food. We call him Patch, because of the eye patch he wears. He lost his eye in a fight with a raccoon several years ago.”

  “Poor thing,” Janet said, stepping forward to pet the dog.

  “Oh, it don’t bother him much,” Ross said. “but he does sometimes run into trees if he’s not being careful.”

  Ross gave his dog a final pat on the head, and then opened the restaurant’s door and ushered them inside. The restaurant was small and cozy, featuring a narrow counter and about a dozen tables. The walls were covered in wood paneling, decorated with enlarged photographs of scenic areas along the Wekiva River. Several of the photographs featured water birds and wildlife; others showed people enjoying a day of fishing, canoeing, and hiking. In addition to the photographs, several mounted game fish hung on the walls. There was also a large alligator head sitting on a shelf behind the counter.

  Following Ross into the restaurant, they were shown to a table beneath one of the mounted fish. Despite being the dinner hour, there were only three other customers in the restaurant: two at a table along the opposite wall, and one sitting at the counter.

  “I’ll let Mary know that she has some hungry customers,” Ross said, handing each of them a menu. “I’ll also get you good people something to drink. What would you like?”

  Robert and Janet ordered ice teas. Krissy ordered a Sprite. Ross repeated the selections, then hurried off to get his wife.

  Mary Sanders appeared a few moments later from the kitchen. She was a tall, stout woman with striking black hair and an infectious smile. She greeted each of the Patterson’s warmly, and then frowned. “My husband didn’t get you any drinks yet? Not even water? That lazy old man. I swea
r, I don’t know why I keep him around. He’s about as useless as his dog.” She smiled, letting them know that her words were only in jest.

  As if on cue, Ross appeared from the kitchen carrying a tray of drinks. “You talking about me, dear?

  Mary turned toward her husband, still smiling. “You bet I am. I was just telling these folks how useless you are.”

  “Useless, but lovable.” Ross grinned. He set the drinks on the table and then stepped back. “I’ve got to get over to the bar to check on the drunks, I mean the customers. I’ve got old Charlie McGee watching the place, but Charlie’s too generous for his own good. Everyone is probably drinking for free.”

  He turned to Robert. “You and the misses stop on by later on, if you have a mind too. We’ve got the coldest draught beer around. Also serve soft drinks, if you don’t like alcohol. It would be a good way to pick up some fishing tips from the locals. Find out where the hot spots are.”

  “I might just do that, after we get unpacked,” Robert said.

  “Good.” Ross nodded. “I’ll see you then.” He returned the drink tray to the kitchen and left the restaurant, leaving the three of them in his wife’s care.

  “What can I get for you tonight?” Mary asked.

  “What’s good?” Robert asked, teasing.

  Mary laughed. “Honey, it’s all good. Just ask the regulars.

  Robert opted for the “all you can eat” catfish plate, liking the thought of having something for dinner that was caught locally. He knew the Wekiva River was still fairly unpolluted, so he wasn’t worried about pesticides. Janet chose the meat loaf, and Krissy went for chicken fingers and French fries. Janet suggested that she also choose a vegetable with her meal, but Robert intervened by saying that vegetables could be skipped on the first day of vacation.

  Taking their orders, Mary returned to the kitchen to supervise the cooking. While she did most of the cooking by herself, she did have two other people working in the kitchen to help out in case things got too hectic.

  While they waited for their food, the Patterson’s discussed plans for their stay at the fish camp. Robert wanted to go fishing first thing in the morning, but he was outvoted by the girls, who wanted to take a canoe trip down the river.

  Krissy had been fishing several times with her father, but she had never been in a canoe. The thought of taking a canoe trip down the Wekiva River excited her, even though she did become a little worried when Robert commented that they might get to see a real alligator or two. The little girl turned to look at the gator head displayed on the shelf behind the counter, wondering if they would see any alligators that big.

  Janet reassured her daughter that alligators in the wild usually stayed away from people. The ones kept in captivity were actually more dangerous than the wild ones, because people had been feeding them, so the alligators associated people with food. She also told Krissy that, if they did see a big alligator, her father would just put his foot in the water and scare it off with the smell.

  Krissy laughed at the joke, nearly blowing Sprite out of her nose. Robert faked a frown, reassuring his daughter that his feet did not smell that bad.

  Their food arrived a few minutes later, smelling wonderful and looking just as good. It had been a hectic day: awaking early to get ready, hurrying to the airport to catch their flight, renting a car, and then driving through traffic to reach their destination, so they hadn’t had time to do more than snack. This was their first real meal of the day, and it was a wonderful way to unwind and put the tension of the trip behind them.

  Ross was right: Mary was a wonderful cook. The catfish was some of the best Robert had ever tasted, and the meat loaf was an absolute delight. So were the chicken fingers, at least according to Krissy. Each of them thoroughly enjoyed their meal and ate every bite, leaving no room for dessert.

  Thanking Mary for a wonderful meal, they paid their bill, leaving a generous tip, and headed back to get their luggage. All three of them walked slowly, their bellies full, none of them in a hurry to carry bags or unpack. Night had already fallen, and the first stars of the evening were poking their heads through a sea of purple. Around them the forests had come alive with the shrill cries of crickets and tree frogs.

  They took a short detour before going to the car, wanting to see the river. The Wekiva River flowed dark and cold behind the wooden cabins. Formed from underground springs, the Wekiva twisted its way through old growth forests, joining up with the larger St. John’s River just north of Sanford.

  According to the brochure Robert had been given, you could canoe down the Wekiva all the way to the St. John’s, if you had a mind to, but it was a trip much farther than he was willing to make. Because if you paddled down the river, you also had to paddle back up it to get home.

  There was a park bench sitting by the river’s edge, but Robert and Janet chose not to sit on it. They still had to get settled in, and knew if they sat down they would be in no hurry to stand back up again. The rushing water of the Wekiva was hypnotizing, even at night, and they could easily spend hours watching it flow by. Work came first; they could always come back later, after Krissy had gone to bed.

  Grabbing their suitcases out of the car, they followed a narrow path to cabin number seven. The cabin they rented was rustic, dusty, and smelled slightly of fish. Two small bedrooms were attached to a somewhat larger sitting room, which came furnished with a pair of oversized chairs, a small wooden table with two folding chairs, an electric coffee maker, a stack of chipped coffee cups, and a tiny refrigerator. Two single beds and a wooden dresser crowded each of the bedrooms, while the bathroom came complete with a sink, toilet, shower, and a medicine cabinet with a cracked mirror.

  Krissy claimed the bedroom to the left of the sitting room, because the curtains covering the window had printed ponies on them. Setting her suitcase on the floor, she was startled when a large bug shot out from under one of the beds and raced past her feet.

  “Cockroach!” she screamed, jumping back.

  The bug didn’t get far before it was squashed by Robert’s well-aimed stomp. “They call them palmetto bugs down here, because they live in palmetto trees.”

  “Yuck. Gross,” Krissy said, shivering at the sound of the bug being squashed under her father’s shoe. She looked nervously under the bed closest to her. “I hope there aren’t any more around here.”

  “Probably not,” Robert said, lifting his shoe to make sure the bug was dead. “But that’s the price you sometimes have to pay for being in the forest: bugs, spiders, snakes, hungry alligators that eat little girls.”

  Krissy smiled, realizing her father was teasing her. “I’m not afraid of alligators, or bugs. I just don’t like cockroaches.”

  “A cockroach is a bug,” Janet said.

  Krissy nodded. “But it’s a big, ugly, crunchy bug. Especially that one.”

  Robert kicked the palmetto bug out the front door with the toe of his shoe. “Well, that one won’t be bothering you anymore tonight. I just hope he didn’t tell his friends that a sweet young girl is living in cabin number seven.”

  Krissy looked around the room, searching for more bugs. “You’re not funny, Daddy.”

  Not wanting her daughter to find another bug, Janet carefully inspected the bathroom, kitchen, and the dresser drawers. Fortunately there were no more creepy crawlers to be found. Opening the suitcases, she put their clothes in the dressers and then stacked the empty cases in the corner of the rooms.

  Finished with the unpacking, she suggested that Krissy take a shower and slip into her pajamas. They had gotten up early, and the little girl was already showing signs of being sleepy. Krissy argued that she wasn’t tired, but agreed to get ready for bed when reminded that they would be getting up early in the morning to go canoeing.

  Robert was also tired, but he wasn’t ready to go to bed so early in the evening. Instead he wanted to go over to the lounge to have a beer or two, maybe strike up a conversation with Ross or one of the locals. Promising Janet that
he wouldn’t stay out too late, he waited for Krissy to start her shower and then slipped out of the cabin.

  The lounge was about half the size of the restaurant; it too was decorated with photographs of the Wekiva River area and mounted game fish. There were also a few neon signs and an old jukebox sitting in the corner of the room. The jukebox was playing a country song, but the sound had been turned down so the music was little more than background noise.

  Robert spotted Ross talking to three men sitting at the bar. They were the only customers in the place. Judging by the way they were dressed, they had probably spent the day fishing on the river. All three men turned to look at Robert as he entered the lounge.

  “Glad you could make it,” Ross smiled, motioning for Robert to join them. “How’s the cabin?”

  “The cabin’s just fine,” Robert answered. “But my daughter did get to meet her very first palmetto bug.”

  Ross grinned. “Sorry about that. It must have slipped in when I was cleaning. We do grow them big down here; I hope it didn’t put too much of a scare into your little girl.”

  “Naw. She’s okay. I told her bugs were just a part of being in the woods.”

  Ross nodded. He turned to the other men seated at the bar. “Gentlemen, this here is Robert Patterson. He and his family are down visiting from St. Louis. They’re going to be spending a week with us.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” Robert said.

  Ross continued the introductions, naming each of the three men seated at the bar. “This is Mike Walters, and his brother, Scott. They’re both regulars here, been fishing this river since God was a pup. If it’s fishing secrets you’re looking for, then these are the guys you want to talk to. They know all the best places for catching the big ones. As a matter of fact, all the fish you see mounted on the walls were caught by them.”

 

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