But Krissy was afraid, worried that she would get into trouble with her parents if she sneaked off to the lagoon to look for more bones. It was her vacation, and she didn’t want to spend it sitting inside the cabin. And if her parents got really mad, they might not take her to Walt Disney World.
On the other hand, she didn’t want to upset her special friend either. None of her friends back home had special friends, so that made Mansa’s friendship even more important. Krissy wanted to be a good friend. She didn’t want her special friend mad at her. She had seen what he could do if he got mad, and that had scared her. Scared her really bad.
The sun came early that morning, filtering softly through the branches of the trees that surrounded the rented cabin. But the sun’s light did little to warm Krissy’s heart. She felt cold on the inside, alone, frightened of getting into trouble with her parents, but more afraid of making her new friend mad at her. So, as the blackness of the night began to be pushed back by the first light of morning, Krissy climbed out her bed and quickly dressed.
Tiptoeing quietly across the room, she opened the door and looked out into the cabin’s tiny sitting room. The room was empty, which meant her parents were not awake yet. That was good. They were probably sleeping late this morning, especially since they had not made any plans to go fishing or canoeing. This was their vacation too, so maybe they just wanted to take it easy today.
Gently closing the door and locking it, she grabbed her backpack from under the bed and placed the four magical bones inside it. She then crossed the room to the window. There were no palmetto bugs on the glass this morning, no insects of any kind. The voice she heard was also silent, at least for the moment.
Krissy unlocked the window and slowly slid it open. The window squeaked slightly, but not loud enough to be heard by her parents. Her mother and father were both sound sleepers, especially if they had been drinking the night before. She unhooked the screen and pushed it outward, allowing it to fall to the ground.
She climbed out the window and lowered herself to the ground. Once outside, she closed the window and set the screen back in place. The window now looked exactly as it had only moments before, so no one would be suspicious that something was amiss. Not that anything was wrong. Not really. Krissy was just going to do a favor for a friend. She just wasn’t telling her parents.
From the cabin, she made her way through the camp to the back side of the bait and tackle shop. Krissy had seen several shovels leaning against the back wall of the shop the day before. They were probably used by local fishermen to dig worms. She didn’t think anyone would get mad if she borrowed one of the shovels. At least she hoped they wouldn’t get mad.
There were still two shovels leaning against the wall. There was also a folding army-shovel that was small and lightweight. Since Krissy was also small and lightweight, she chose the folding army-shovel to take with her into the woods.
With shovel in hand, she hurried across the footbridge that crossed the Wekiva River at the beginning of the nature trail. It was still early, so there weren’t very many people up and about. She only saw two men, and they were busy putting a cooler and supplies into a flat-bottomed fishing boat. Neither of them noticed her as she crossed the bridge and disappeared into the forest.
She hurried along the elevated boardwalk that lead deeper into the forest, paying little attention to the nature that surrounded her. Ordinarily, Krissy would have slowed her pace to check out the birds and animals that were so active in the morning, but she just didn’t have time to admire the wildlife. She needed to help her special friend and still get back to the cabin before she was missed. She didn’t have much time, so she couldn’t afford to do any sightseeing.
Reaching the part of the nature trail that was scarred by fire, she climbed down off the boardwalk and continued onward. The grass and foliage were still wet with morning dew, so Krissy was completely soaked by the time she reached the lagoon.
Emerging from the forest, she stopped to look at the lagoon. A layer of gray mist covered the water, making the pool look even spookier than it had the first time she saw it. The staff with the skull mounted on it still stood by the water’s edge, but it now leaned slightly to the right and appeared in danger of falling over. Perhaps the wind had blown it off balance, or maybe the ground was just too soft to support its weight.
Krissy didn’t care about the staff and wasn’t worried if it fell over or not. Turning away from the beaded staff, she let her gaze wander over the tree line that surrounding the lagoon, looking for her friend. But Mansa was no where to be seen. He remained nothing more than a voice, someone that could be heard but not seen.
“Are you here?” Krissy asked aloud. She waited for an answer, but all was silent. She wondered if her special friend was even around and knew she would be mad if he wasn’t. Maybe he was still sleeping. She had gone to a lot of trouble sneaking out of the cabin, so he had better be waiting for her.
“Mansa, are you here?” she asked louder, worried that she had made a trip for nothing.
Suddenly there was a feeling of movement behind her. She couldn’t see anything, but it felt as if someone had just stepped past her. She turned and looked, but there was no one there. Only the wind that whispered through the treetops, stirring the leaves and grasses at her feet. A cold wind that spoke of ancient ice fields and deep dark places. A wind that brought a shiver to the little girl, making her arms break out into goosebumps. With the wind came the voice of someone who claimed to be a special friend.
Krisssy, my dear, dear child. You have come to help me. You did not disappoint me like the others. Good. Very good.
Something moved by her feet, touched her ankle and caused her to jump back. She thought it was a snake, but she looked down and saw that it was just a vine. Krissy could have sworn that the vine reached out and touched her, but it must have been just her imagination.
“I told you I would come,” she said, hoping to catch a glimpse of her friend. But there was no one to be seen. He remained as invisible as the wind. “Where are you?”
I am here.
“Where? I still can’t see you. You said that I would be able to see you.”
Soon you shall see me, little one. But not now.
“When?”
Later. But first you must help me, the voice whispered in her ear. You must find more magical gifts.
“More bones?” Krissy asked.
Yesss...more bones. They are magic. Strong magic. Strong enough to bring me back into your world.
“Then can I see you?” Krissy wanted to know.
Yesss....
“Then can we play together?”
Yesss....
“And read stories?”
Yesss...anything you like.
“Good.” Krissy smiled. “But we won’t play hide-and-seek. That wouldn’t be fair, because you can hide anywhere and I still couldn’t see you.
“I brought a shovel, in case we have to dig, but I can’t be gone long. My parents will be mad if they know I sneaked out.”
Not long. Not this time.
“Okay.” She set the shovel down and took a seat on the ground, taking off her socks and shoes. Standing back up, she picked up the shovel and started walking slowly toward the lagoon. “Are the other bones in the same place?”
Yesss...the same place.
Guided by the voice inside her head, Krissy waded across the lagoon to the little island in its center. There, among the twisted roots of an ancient cypress tree, she dug in the soft mud looking for more bones. Magical items that would allow the little girl to see her special friend.
She found the first bone right away, and then another shortly after that. They both looked to be rib bones, but she couldn’t really be sure. Bones were bones as far as Krissy was concerned; they all looked pretty much the same. She wondered what kind of bones they were, but only for a moment. It didn’t really matter what kind of bones they were. The important thing was that she was making her special friend v
ery happy.
Good. Very good, the voice whispered deep inside of her head, pleased with her results. Now look over there. To your left. Beneath the water. Not far from the shore. Not deep. Dig in the mud with your hands. Yessss....
Krissy waded a few feet from the shore and reached beneath the water, sticking her hands in the soft mud. At first she didn’t feel anything, but guided by the voice of her special friend she soon found a bone bigger than all the others. Slipping her fingers beneath the bone, she tugged and tugged until it came loose.
Very good, little one.
She lifted the bone above the water and looked at it. The bone was long and round, with a knob on each end of it. It looked like a leg bone of some kind, but again she couldn’t be sure.
Carrying the leg bone back to the island, she set it on the pile of bones she had already collected. It wasn’t a large pile, but there were too many bones to fit into her tiny backpack.
Krissy was suddenly worried. Mansa had told her the bones were magical and she needed to keep them a secret, but there were too many bones to hide in her backpack, probably too many to hide in her dresser. Her parents would find them, and then she would be in trouble. They would be mad at her for having the bones, and Mansa would be mad that she had revealed the secret.
“I can’t take these with me,” Krissy said, looking around. “There are too many of them. I won’t be able to hide them. My parents will find them.”
You do not have to take them with you, Krisssy. We will hide them here, hide them where they will be safe from animals and people. No one will find them. No one will be able to scatter them again.
“You’re not mad?”
No. Not mad. You have worked hard. We have enough bones for now. Enough magic for what I need.
Then I’ll be able to see you?” asked Krissy.
Yesss...
“Oh, goodie!”
Mansa instructed her to carry the bones across the lagoon, to hide them in the hollowed log of a fallen oak tree. Carefully placing the bones inside the tree, she opened her backpack and added the four bones she had found the previous day.
There were twenty-two bones all together. Some were fairly large, others were smaller than her little finger. Carefully placing all the bones inside the hollow log, Krissy covered them with handfuls of dried leaves and grasses to keep them hidden from sight.
“There. All done,” Krissy said, pleased with her effort. “Now can I see you?”
Not now, but soon. Tonight, when the moon is full. Tonight you will be able to see me, little one. Tonight, when the moon is high in the sky, I will show myself. But I will only show myself to you. Come alone, and tell no one that you’re coming.
“I won’t tell anyone.”
Good. Come back here tonight and I will show you magic, things you have only dreamed of. Strange things. Wonderful things. Now go, before you are missed.
Krissy smiled and nodded. Grabbing her shovel and backpack, she hurried off through the forest to the camp. It was still early, so she felt safe that her parents were still sleeping. Maybe she would go back to bed too, but she knew that she wouldn’t be able to sleep. Krissy was far too excited, for soon she would be able to see her special friend. She had only to wait for the night.
Patch, the dog, liked many things. He liked sleeping in the shade of an oak tree on a hot, lazy summer afternoon. He liked sitting by the restaurant’s front door, begging for handouts from the customers. He even liked barking at the fish that the fishermen caught, all shiny and rough, flipping around on the ground like smelly play toys. The fish were funny, and Patch enjoyed barking at them.
Patch also liked the little girl named Krissy. The girl played with him, and scratched him behind the ears, in the place that always itched and was impossible to reach. She also gave him food, tiny morsels of meat and fish that she carried out of the restaurant concealed in a white paper napkin. The food was good, but there never seemed to be enough of it. Just a bite or two, quickly swallowed, and then it was gone. Gone in one bite and then nothing more than a memory, a tiny taste left on the tip of his tongue. Just a memory. Never enough.
Sometimes Krissy gave him candy. Sticky sweet candy that stuck to his teeth and fur. Strawberry candy. Licorice. Even the forbidden taste of chocolate. Jelly Beans were his favorite, and he would do tricks to get them: sit pretty, roll over, even play dead. The tricks always worked. Silly tricks that made people laugh at him, made them give him candy.
Patch liked Krissy, but he did not like the bad smell that now clung to her. Bad smell that belonged to the bad thing in the forest, the thing that lived in the water. Bad thing that could not be seen, only smelled. The thing beneath the water that waited, and watched. Bad smell. Bad thing. Dangerous.
Krissy was not bad. She was good. She gave him candy, called him “good doggie,” and scratched the place that always itched. She was a very nice little girl, but the bad smell was now on her. The others couldn’t smell it, but Patch could. It was there, clinging to her skin, the smell of the bad thing in the forest. The smell of evil, and death.
He liked Krissy, but he did not like the bad thing. Nor did he want her to get hurt; therefore, he decided to follow the little girl into the forest to protect her. He didn’t follow too close. No. Not close. She didn’t even see him as he followed her along the boardwalk, staying back so he could see but not be seen, keeping to the shadows that still lingered beneath the trees.
Patch wanted to scare away the bad thing, scare it from the girl so she would be safe, but he didn’t know if the bad thing could be scared. How could you scare something you could smell but not see? The bad thing was old, very old; it had been around a long time. Long before Patch. It would not be easy to scare something that had been around for a long time, something that could be smelled and not seen.
Patch hung back as he followed the little girl along the nature trail, taking care not to be seen. In his younger days he had been a good hunter, so he knew how to move quietly through the forest. He knew how to sneak up on rabbits and squirrels, so he had no problem sneaking behind a little girl, especially a little girl that never looked behind her as she hurried along the trail.
Patch didn’t want the little girl to get hurt, so he decided to go into the forest to scare away the bad thing. Scare away the bad thing and the girl would be safe.
As he neared the lagoon the forest grew quiet. All the birds and squirrels had left this part of the forest a long time ago. Patch liked to chase squirrels, but there weren’t any to chase. The bad thing had scared the squirrels away. Maybe they would come back when the bad thing went away. But Patch was afraid that the bad thing was not going to leave. The little girl was helping the bad thing, making it stronger. Patch bared his teeth as he thought of the thing with the bad smell. He wanted to bite it, but he couldn’t see it. Can’t bite something you cannot see.
The dog slowed his pace as Krissy reached the section of boardwalk that had been burned by fire. He hoped the girl would turn around and go back to camp, but she climbed down off the boardwalk and continued onward. Patch felt a shiver of fear pass through his body. The land beyond the burned area belonged to the bad thing. It was his home, a place of strange silence where roots moved and the trees danced at night.
Being careful where he stepped, Patch climbed down off the boardwalk and continued to follow the little girl. Already he could smell the lagoon, the odor of its brackish water carried on the morning wind. He was still about a hundred yards from the lagoon when he spotted a dead toad not too far from the trail. Curious, he left the trail to investigate.
The toad was stiff and old and had the smell of the bad thing on it. Bad smell. A very bad smell. The dog raised his head and looked around, a nervous growl forming in the back of his throat. The toad smelled of the bad thing, so did the ground it lay upon. So did the trees, and the bushes, and the air.
Everything smelled of the bad thing. The smell was strong, overpowering, much stronger than ever before. The bad thing’s sm
ell should be only at the lagoon, but now it seemed to be everywhere. The bad thing was growing larger, stronger. The little girl was helping it get stronger, helping it to reach out into the forest.
Patch looked for Krissy, but the little girl could no longer be seen. She had walked up the trail that lead to the lagoon. He started to race after her, no longer concerned with following her unseen. The bad thing was stronger now, dangerous, and he had to get the girl back to the safety of camp, even if he had to drag her back. She didn’t know the bad thing the way he did, did not understand the danger she was in. But Patch knew the bad thing; he understood the danger.
He started to race after the girl, but he had only taken a few steps when the ground around him started to ripple. Patch stopped dead in his tracks as he saw the ground moving. He tried to back up, tried to turn around and run away, but he wasn’t fast enough. He might have been faster when he was younger, but not now.
The ground beneath the dog’s feet continued to roll and ripple, as if some great snake moved below its surface. Suddenly a cloud of dirt exploded into the air as a tree root shot out of the ground. Patch tried to jump out of the way, but the root grabbed him by the front leg and held tight.
Patch growled and snarled as he fought to get free from the root’s grasp. He twisted his body and bit at the root, but his teeth had little effect on it.
A second root shot out of the ground and encircled the dog’s chest and stomach. Patch was in a frenzy now, fighting to get free, but the roots tightened around him like a pair of boa constrictors. They were nothing more than the roots of a nearby oak tree, but these roots were alive and moved. And they were very deadly.
There was a sharp pop as the dog’s spine was snapped in two. Patch would have howled in pain, but his chest was being crushed and he could not draw a breath to cry out. He couldn’t even whimper. More pops sounded as the tiny bones in his neck were crushed, his neck being squeezed so tight that his eye bulged out of his head.
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