Evil Whispers

by Goingback, Owl

  When he arrived back at the reservation, they were waiting for him. Actually, only one man was waiting for him: an old medicine man named Charlie Osceola. Charlie knew that Jimmy was coming home. He also knew why the young man had returned. Charlie had also had a vision. It would be his job to start Jimmy down the medicine path, teaching him the things he would need to know for a job far more important than any he had ever done before.

  Jimmy turned and looked at the place where the white tourist had fallen asleep. Pieces of kudzu vine still lay scattered on the ground, pieces that Jimmy had cut away from the man’s legs. The tourist didn’t know how lucky he really was. Had Jimmy not come along when he did, the man probably would have been killed.

  “Stupid tourist.”

  Most of the people who lived in the area had forgotten the story of Blackwater. They did not know of the evil that resided in the ground, waiting for a chance to be free once more. They had never heard of Mansa Du Paul, and were ignorant of the darkness that he represented.

  But Jimmy was the guardian. He knew the story, and had dedicated his life to making sure the evil did not return. His was a lonely existence, living in a tiny shack that was barely fit for cockroaches and spiders. He had accepted his calling without complaint, following his original vision and the teachings of the late Charlie Osceola. He was one with the forest, and the animals in it, watching and waiting, hoping that the darkness would never again rear its ugly head.

  Jimmy sighed, turning his attention toward the lagoon. The darkness was growing stronger. He could feel it. It was in the water and in the land, even in the plants and trees. Soon it would be strong enough to break free of its prison, returning again in full force. Heaven help them if it did return in full strength, for Jimmy Cypress wasn’t sure he was strong enough to fight it.

  Reaching into his front pocket, he removed an old leather pouch. He opened it and took out a pinch of black leaf tobacco, spreading it around the base of the staff. He whispered a few words of prayer, then closed the pouch and started down the trail toward his tiny cabin. The staff was again in place, its medicine fighting to keep the evil from spreading. Still, he would have to keep a closer watch on the area, just in case the foolish white tourist returned.

  Chapter Four

  Krissy was bored. She was supposed to be taking her afternoon nap, but she just couldn’t sleep. If you asked her, having to take a nap was stupid. She was ten years old, not a little girl, so she didn’t need a nap. And she sure as heck didn’t want to take a dumb nap while she was on vacation.

  She was supposed to be out doing things, not sleeping. This was her vacation, there would be plenty of time to take naps when she went back home.

  The morning’s canoe trip had ended far too early to satisfy her. They were supposed to go fishing after they got back from canoeing, but her mother wanted to learn how to make crab cakes. Krissy didn’t really want to learn, she only said she did to make her mother happy. Truthfully, she could care less about learning how to make them. But her mother always wanted to do mother and daughter things, so Krissy had gotten roped into spending an hour or two in a hot kitchen learning how to make “authentic Florida crab cakes.” She would have rather been learning how to catch crabs, or maybe taking a walk with her father.

  She had asked her father to take her on the nature trail when he got back from his walk, but he had acted funny saying that he was just too tired to go for another walk. Maybe later.

  Krissy sighed. It was always “maybe later” with her parents. Maybe later we will go fishing, maybe later we will go for a walk, maybe later we will take you to Walt Disney World.

  Angry, she sat up in her bed and looked around the room. “Maybe later I will take a nap, but not now.”

  Crossing the room, she looked out the cabin’s window. Her parents were at the lounge talking with Mr. and Mrs. Sanders. Knowing how her parents both loved to talk, it would probably be hours before they came back. And if her mom and dad were drinking beer, which they sometimes did--especially on their days off--then they might not be back for a long time.

  That was typical: Krissy, take a nap in a boring old cabin while we go have a good time drinking beer and talking with people we don’t really know. If you get lonely, you can talk with the cockroaches. Correction, palmetto bugs. Her dad said the big ones were called palmetto bugs.

  “Who cares?”

  Walking back across the room, she sat down on the bed and pulled her shoes on. This was her vacation too, and she wasn’t about to spend it taking naps in the middle of the afternoon. There was a strange, exciting world out there, and she was going to explore at least part of it.

  Tying her shoes, she left the bedroom and went to the front door. She opened it a crack and peeked out. The camp appeared empty. No sign of her parents, or anyone else.

  Checking to make sure she would not be locked out, Krissy stepped outside and closed the door behind her. Truthfully, she only planned to walk around the camp a little, maybe sit on the bench by the river and watch the fish swim by. But when she reached the beginning of the nature trail, she decided to go for a short walk in the forest.

  Krissy had always liked doing things with her parents, but she also liked doing things on her own. Her father said she had an independent streak, whatever that meant.

  She had only walked about fifty feet down the trail, crossing the wooden footbridge that spanned the Wekiva River, when she spotted a bright blue butterfly sitting on the wooden handrail.

  “Hello, Mr. Butterfly. How are you today?”

  The butterfly didn’t answer her, but she knew that it wouldn’t. It just sat there on the handrail, slowly opening and closing its wings, perhaps sunning itself. She stepped closer to get a better look, but her shadow fell over the butterfly, startling it into flight.

  “Wait. Don’t go,” Krissy said, not wanting the insect to fly away. “I won’t hurt you.”

  But the butterfly didn’t listen. It flew away from her, following the boardwalk deeper into the forest. Not wanting the insect to get away, Krissy gave chase.

  She hurried to keep up with it, running along the boardwalk. Suddenly, the insect turned left, flying away from the wooden walkway. Not wanting to lose the game of chase, Krissy climbed down off the boardwalk and continued after the bright blue butterfly. And when the tiny insect flew too high to be of further interest, the little girl found herself surrounded by trees.

  Krissy stopped and looked around. At first she was alarmed, fearing that she might have gotten lost in the woods. But she could see a section of the boardwalk through the trees, even though the section looked old and black like it had been burned in a fire. She could also hear the whispered gurgling of water, and knew she was not far from the river. Even if she was lost, all she had to do was follow the river back to camp.

  Knowing she would get into big trouble if her parents found out that she had gone off by herself, Krissy started back for the camp. She had only taken a few steps, however, when a wild rabbit darted out from under a bush. She just had to chase the rabbit, at least for a little ways. The ten-year-old forgot all about the rabbit when she stumbled upon the lagoon.

  There was something terribly appealing about the lagoon. There was also something a little frightening about it. It felt old, really old, like something left over from ancient times. She could almost imagine a huge, scaly dinosaur rising up out of the dark water to stare at her, and that thought was more than a little frightening to a girl alone in the forest.

  Krissy was almost certain that the lagoon she faced was the same one she and her family had stumbled upon while canoeing earlier in the day. She could even see the tiny branch of the Wekiva leading away to join up with the river’s main artery. Earlier it had been nothing more than a dead end, but now the lagoon and surrounding forest was a place of dark secrets where strange creatures watched from the shadows.

  The little girl looked around, suddenly fearful that something was watching her. As she looked around, she became aware of
how quiet everything was. Too quiet. A spooky kind of silence, like the kind they always have in scary movies right before the monster jumps out at you.

  Not that the forest itself was noisy. There had been a pleasant quietness surrounding them when they had gone canoeing that morning, broken only by the whisper of the river, the soft splashing of their paddles, and the cries of birds. That silence had been nice. There was also a calm stillness surrounding her when she had been chasing the bright blue butterfly, marred only by the sound of her footsteps.

  But the silence now was far different than what she had already experienced in the forest. There was nothing soothing or serene about it. It was the silence of waiting, of holding your breath in nervous anticipation. The quietness of little kids playing hide and go seek, hoping not to be caught by the person that was “it.” The silence of a big hairy spider as it slowly descends a web toward the terrified struggles of its next victim.

  No. The eerie silence that surrounded the lagoon was anything but pleasant. It was a silence of something waiting, perhaps waiting for her.

  Becoming increasingly nervous, Krissy started to turn away from the lagoon when she spotted something neither she nor her parents had noticed earlier while canoeing.

  A narrow wooden staff stood upright by the water’s edge, apparently stuck in the ground by someone who had come to the lagoon before her. The staff was wrapped in leather and covered with beadwork, decorated with feathers and strips of colored cloth. On top of the pole sat the skull of some kind of animal, its jaws open in an evil grin. The skull faced away from Krissy, looking out over the black water.

  Krissy was glad the skull faced away from her. Even though it was nothing more than the bone of some long-dead animal, she had a funny feeling that it might be able to see her had it been looking her way. One thing for sure, she didn’t want to get any closer to the skull-topped staff. She could she it just fine from where she stood.

  Deciding that she had enough of spooky lagoons and grinning skulls, Krissy started to leave. She had just turned away from the water, when a man’s voice spoke to her.

  Where are you going...little one?

  Startled, Krissy turned back around. She didn’t see anyone, but someone had definitely spoken to her. “What?”

  Where are you going?

  The little girl looked left, then right, searching for the man whose voice she heard. But she saw no one, which meant that he was hiding somewhere: perhaps behind a tree, or bush, maybe ducked down so he would not be seen.

  But why would he be hiding? A man wouldn’t be hiding alone in the forest, unless he was hiding from someone. Maybe he was waiting for someone to come along, someone like Krissy.

  Fear shot through Krissy as she realized just how alone she really was. Though the river was not far away, and she could still see a section of boardwalk from where she stood, she was very much alone in a forest that had suddenly grown dark and spooky. It was just her and the man.

  “Where are you?” Krissy asked aloud. She wanted to know where the man was in case she had to run for help. It just wouldn’t do to run toward him.

  I am here, little one.

  “Where?” She looked around, but saw no one.

  Here. There. Everywhere.

  Krissy took a step back. “You’re hiding somewhere.”

  No. I am not hiding.

  “Then why can’t I see you?

  Can you see the wind, little one?

  Krissy shook her head. “No.”

  But you know the wind is there. You can feel it. You can see the wind when it moves the trees. I am like the wind. I can be heard, but not seen.

  The voice was soft and smooth, almost a whisper. Krissy suddenly realized that she didn’t hear the voice with her ears, but heard it deep inside her head. The voice scared her, and she started to run, but the man she could not see again spoke to her.

  Do not be afraid, little one. I will not hurt you. I am your friend. Your ssspecial friend.

  “Special friend?” Krissy hesitated. Her legs still wanted to run away, but she forced herself to stand still.

  That is correct. I am your ssspecial friend. A ssspecial friend for a ssspecial little girl.

  Krissy was now curious. “How do you know I’m special?”

  I know many things.

  “Like what?”

  I know the color of the butterfly that you chased, and where the rabbit is now hiding. I know that you are a brave little girl, for you have not run away. You are ssspecial. Very ssspecial. Only ssspecial people are allowed to have ssspecial friends.

  Krissy was still a little afraid, but she no longer had the desire to run away. She kind of liked the idea of having a special friend to talk with. No one that she knew had such a friend.

  “Will you play with me?”

  Yesss. Play. Talk. Sing. We will do many things together. Many things. I will tell you the stories of the wind, and the trees, and the secrets of the dark water.

  “Can we read together?” Krissy asked. “I like to read books. Can we read some books together?”

  Yesss. If you like. I am your friend. We can read together.

  Krissy stopped talking and frowned. “I don’t know your name. How can we be friends if I don’t know your name?”

  My name is Mansa, said the voice.

  “Mansa,” Krissy repeated the name aloud. “That’s a nice name. My name is Krissy.”

  Krisssy. Krisssy. The voice repeated her name twice, sounding like the singing of chicadas.

  Krissy laughed. “Just wait until I tell my parents that I have a special friend.”

  The whispered hissing of her name went shrill, almost hurt her head. No! You must not tell anyone about me.

  “Ow. You’re hurting me.” She grabbed her head, waiting for the voice to stop.

  I am sorry, little one. I did not mean to hurt you.

  Krissy lowered her hands. “Why can’t I tell my parents about you?”

  Our friendship must be kept a secret. A ssspecial friendship between two ssspecial friends. If you tell anyone about me I will go away and not come back. You do not want that. Do you?

  “I guess not.”

  Good. Then you will not tell anyone about me?

  I won’t tell.

  Promise?

  “I promise.”

  Good. Very good.

  She looked around the lagoon, but still didn’t see anyone. There was only the voice, and she only heard that on the inside of her head. She wanted to tell about her new friend, but she didn’t want her special friend to be mad at her. Not everyone had a special friend. No one she knew had a friend that could be heard, but not seen. That excited Krissy, made her feel that maybe she was a special little girl after all.

  One thing for sure, she now had someone to talk to whenever she wanted. Let her parents hang out in the lounge if they wanted, Krissy no longer needed them to keep her company. She had something better. Something special.

  Realizing that it was getting late, Krissy again promised to keep her friend a secret. She also promised to return to the lagoon as soon as possible. This made her new, special friend very happy.

  Krissy made it back to the cabin with plenty of time to spare. Lying on her bed, she waited for her nap time to be over. She still wasn’t sleepy, but she was no longer bored. She now had someone to play with. A special friend that only she could hear.

  Chapter Five

  The next morning the Pattersons rented a small, flat-bottomed boat to do a little fishing. They also rented three rod and reels, but they had to buy their bait and hooks. In this case the bait was the nonliving kind: artificial worms in several different colors and smells. Ross Sanders had told them about several good spots on the river to catch striped bass, and they were anxious to try their luck.

  Along with the rubber worms, they also purchased snacks, a small Styrofoam cooler, a bag of ice, a twelve-pack of canned ice tea, and a bottle of sunscreen.

  Robert looked at the bag of supplies they had just
purchased and smiled. “I guess it’s a good thing we’re only going fishing for the morning. Otherwise we would have to rent a bigger boat.”

  The boat they rented came equipped with two swivel seats, as well as a small bench where Krissy could sit without being in the way of either of her parents. It also had a small electrical trawling motor, which Ross guaranteed would not run out of juice and leave them stranded. There was a pair of wooden oars lying in the bottom of the boat, just in case Ross’s guarantee failed to come true.

  Robert loaded their fishing poles and supplies into the boat while his wife filled the cooler with the cans of ice tea, covering them with a layer of ice. He set the filled cooler in the middle of the boat, and then put a life vest on Krissy. Tossing two more vests on board, he helped his family into the boat and they untied from the dock.

  He started the motor and steered out into the middle of the river, heading upstream to the places that Ross described as the best spots to catch the big ones. The first spot Ross suggested was underneath an old wooden bridge, but there was another boat already anchored there, so they kept going.

  It was actually a good thing that they didn’t stop at the first fishing spot, because shortly after passing the old wooden bridge they spotted an alligator swimming near the shore. With only its head and part of its back protruding above the water, the gator closely resembled a floating log.

  Krissy was extremely excited about seeing her first alligator and nearly fell out of the boat when she changed positions to get a better look. The alligator was less than excited about seeing the three of them, disappearing beneath the surface when their boat got too close. Bidding a fond farewell to Mr. Gator, they continued in search of the perfect fishing spot.

  The next place described as a good fishing spot was about a mile upstream, where the river widened and slowed its pace. Here the water was choked with a mixture of eelgrass and hydrilla, but in the middle of the green vegetations were small open patches of water where fish liked to gather.