“He stood up from the couch and stretched to the point it seemed like his hands would hit the ceiling, and I looked up to see his answer. ‘Hell, Jason, there are so many skeletons on this island that they have their own friggin’ town meetin’s.’ He rubbed his eyes and grinned. ‘First of all, you’re not really goin’ door to door trick or treatin’, are you? You’re a little old for that, but at your size I’d guess you could get away with it.’ I told him it was for Ronnie Parker’s party and he frowned—”
Billy cut in from the darkness and I could just make out his shadow. “You weren’t friends with Ronnie back then were you? You’d have been a sophomore, he was probably workin’ on his third try at being a senior—before he dropped out altogether. Why were you gonna go to a party that douche was throwing?”
I was just about sitting in Foster’s lap and his voice came out of his chest and through his mouth by my ear, and I shivered in a good way. “Billy, you dumb redneck, it was Jason’s cover story! He just wanted to pick Bucky’s brain about local ghosts or spirits or something. Right, Jason?”
“He’s right, Billy. But you’re right, too. Ronnie was older than me, way dumber than me, and already workin’ on his lengthy but not surprisin’ criminal record. My parents hadn’t lived on the island in twenty years—we just stayed at the house there for a month or so in the summer, and they weren’t really big on the island’s history. I figured Bucky’d know all of the stories and one of them might involve muddy footprints or spinning compasses. ‘You know, Chief, I want to stand out in the crowd.’
“He laughed and said, ‘Then you need to wear a costume that involves wearing stilts—maybe a pine tree, or a lighthouse, maybe a—’
“I tried to get him back on track. ‘It needs to be a local legend or something—I need to come up with a story for AP English, too. I want to kill two birds with one stone. What’s the one about the witch in the swamp?’ I wasn’t exactly sure why that story had popped into my head, but I figured it was a good place to start.
“He sat down on one of the chairs in front of the desk and spun in it like some kid in his father’s office. He picked a pen up off the desk and chewed on it while he talked. ‘Everybody around here knows that one. Jonas Parker’s wife, Elizabeth, supposedly went a little crazy, and the colonists or pirates or Rumpholts—most ever’body on the island, they all thought she was on the verge of boilin’ some virgins, maybe makin’ eye of newt pies, and just generally witchin’ up the place. A couple of settlers claimed they saw her standing at the edge of the water in the cove with a small child in her arms. They said she was hummin’, starin’ at the swamp, and wading deeper into the water. The baby wasn’t hers, she and Jonas didn’t have any kids, though he did have two sons with his second wife. When they took the child from Elizabeth they realized it was Reverend Parker’s son. The Reverend Parker had been a pickpocket in England, but he found religion on the island when he realized there was more money in it. There was some kind of a trial and they found Elizabeth guilty of attempting to feed the child to the alligators and general witchcraft. As head of the community it was up to Jonas to come up with a just punishment for the crime. He shot down a firing squad, so to speak. He knew the Parker pirates were a little too squeamish to hang her, or burn her at a post, and a guillotine would have induced comas. He was also truly in love with her, even though she was makin’ bat and weasel party mix or whatnot. So he comes up with a plan, a scheme that involved the swamp and needed the help of the local Indians.’
“I was trying to pay attention to his story and not the way his uniform stretched across his chest or the way the black stubble on his face was so dark it had a blue sheen in the right light. His arms—”
“Uh, Jason, you’re getting a little off topic,” Sam said. “And again, that’s my father you’re drooling over. Doesn’t Jason describin’ my dad that way bother you, Foster, even just a little?”
Foster casually told him, “No offense, Sam, but your dad became gator bait before I even met Jason. But it does explain why Jason had such a crush on you when you first got here.”
“You think the chief really felt like that, Foster?”
“Everybody on the island knew that, Bo.”
“Enough, y’all! So, Sam’s father—a giant blob, a troll who I could barely stand to look at, tells me that Jonas declared to the town that Elizabeth was to be left in the swamp to feed the alligators and other creatures. Everybody agreed that was a good punishment—being exiled to the swamp was a surefire death sentence, and one that nobody would have to actually witness. What they didn’t know was that Jonas had met with the chief of the tribe out there. The two men agreed that for a decent amount of pirate treasure the tribe would feed and shelter Elizabeth, so that she could live out her years in relative comfort. If they saw a clear chance to get her to an English settlement on the mainland they would take her there and convince someone to carry her north, maybe to Charleston or a larger town where she could disappear. ‘So,’ Bucky explained, ‘the plan went pretty well. A few of the Parker men took her up a small dark creek, into a deep part of the swamp, and left her there on a tiny patch of dry ground. The Indians were waiting in a stand of tall pines and took her in.’
“I pictured war-painted butt naked Native Americans coming out of the shadows and takin’ her back to their village. An English woman who didn’t speak their language, cast away from her own village, and living at their mercy, for a crime she didn’t commit. ‘So,’ Bucky told me, ‘she grew to hate the Parker’s and even the Rumpholts, but especially her husband. She mourned the loss of her previous life, but she was a survivor and quickly became a part of the tribe. A young brave, or whatever’s politically correct to call him, began courting her and they fell in love. He was tall, handsome, and a leader of the tribe. He reminded her of Jonas as far as looks, but she could see a gentleness and kindness in him that Jonas just didn’t have. The two were married in a grove of cypress at the edge of the creek, under a full moon, and quickly became inseparable.’ ”
Jonas
“Bucky told me that after a few months Jonas began to wonder what had happened to his wife, and secretly went into the swamp to see if he could find out. He ran into some Indian women gatherin’ roots or whatever and they told him about Elizabeth’s marriage and her happiness. Jonas couldn’t stand it, couldn’t stand the idea of Elizabeth’s new life without him. He decided to bribe her to move to the settlement on the mainland so he could see her without the islanders finding out. He began sending small packages to her with love letters and some treasure to lure her back.”
Sam whispered in my direction, “Gold or jewels?”
“Jewels. Fine diamonds, rubies, emeralds, sapphires—part of the Rumpholts’ treasure that everybody had thought was lost with the ship.”
Billy sounded excited. “So the treasure hunters are right to keep huntin’! Jonas wouldn’t have given away all of the loot, there must be more somewhere.”
“Maybe, Billy. Betty and Trey thought so, and lots of other people have been trying to find what’s left of the gold. Bucky told me Jonas would send a new letter and a few more gems every week or so, still begging for her to leave the ‘red devils’ and her new husband for some kind of life with him. ‘Elizabeth would laugh and tear the letters into shreds, but she wasn’t stupid—she kept the gems and buried them by a tree,’ Bucky said. ‘She was way too happy with her new life and her new friends, there was no way she was going to leave everything to become Jonas’s mistress. By then it was getting closer to winter, it became darker and colder in the swamp. Elizabeth had managed to poison her brave against Jonas and the other Parkers, and she convinced him to rattle the nerves of the islanders who had branded her a witch and abandoned her. If they wanted a witch then they would get one, she told him.’
“According to Bucky, the newlyweds would sneak into Parker’s Bluff in the middle of the night and pay visits to the Parkers. She would leave small trinkets on their hearths—a few glass beads, some swe
et breads and biscuits, a few strips of venison jerky, simple treats for the few folks who had been kind to her. Her husband was the bad guy, he would sneak into houses and leave more ominous things—small straw figures with limbs dipped in blood, the eyes of various swamp creatures, dead water moccasins posed in a coil as if they were ready to strike, things generally meant to scare the shit out of Elizabeth’s enemies.”
Foster muttered, “Kind of an especially disturbin’ game of trick or treat.”
“That’s what it seemed like, until the tricks turned really evil. She would leave live snakes on the hearth, huge snakes sluggish from the cold of the swamp but warmed by the coals in the hearth, and incredibly hostile when woken up from their sleep. And figures of specific settlers costumed and accurate in every detail, they would be beheaded or pierced with tiny arrows. Sometimes they would leave little sweet cakes, treats that looked delicious but were laced with hallucinogenic mushrooms and whatnot. ‘Even the village idiot,’ Bucky told me, ‘could see that it was the mischief of Elizabeth, a witch hauntin’ them from hell. But Jonas, he knew odds were that a very much alive Elizabeth was tauntin’ him. And he turned from trying to win her back to wipin’ her off the face of the Earth. One evenin’ he waited for the couple at the edge of the swamp and ambushed them. His rage was wild, there was a struggle but he somehow managed to overpower them. He tied them up and set them at the base of a tree, and had the brave watch as he put a dagger through Elizabeth’s heart. The Indian wept and then threw himself into the cold waters of the creek to end his life and to join his wife in the afterlife. Jonas knew that the brave was bound tightly and watched as the life drained out his body and he drifted face down in the creek. He took a lock of Elizabeth’s hair and cut off the finger that she wore her wedding band from Jonas on, and then pushed her into the creek to join her new husband in hell.’
“With the Parker pirates bein’ so squeamish or whatnot, Jonas passed out from the bloodiness and the exhaustion of the double murder. When he came to, the swamp was quiet and the rise of the tide had washed the blood away from the crime scene. He rowed back to the island and showed everybody his proof that Elizabeth was indeed dead. He reasoned with them that he was mistaken when he sent her into the swamp, they should have burned her at the stake or drowned her like a proper witch. After everyone recovered from the sight of the severed finger, Jonas told them the curse of her visits could only be ended by a proper Christian anti-witch burial ceremony. They made a little raft and placed the finger, the lock of hair, and a few smoldering chunks of peat moss on it. They had some kind of service, a kind of exorcism, funeral, witch-disposal thing down at the base of the bluffs, and then pushed the little vessel out into the channel toward the sound. They all watched silently as the raft burst into flames and then sank as it drifted down the inlet toward the ocean. A few of the witnesses wrote in their journals about an unusual amount of birds circlin’ the burning raft.
“I thought about the story he told and wondered why I’d never heard the whole thing. I knew some of the parents of Parker kids would threaten their kids with a visit from the swamp witch if they misbehaved, but I thought it was like the legend of Jolly Roger, the giant alligator—just a myth, a fable or whatnot to keep spoiled kids on their best behavior.”
“But,” Billy pointed out, “you know better than anybody Jolly Roger wasn’t a myth—you killed his great-great-great grandson.”
I glanced around the swamp and couldn’t see shit. I wondered if I cut on a flashlight and aimed it out into the gloom how many pairs of glowing eyes would shine back. I shivered some more and Foster stood up and walked over to our supplies. I heard a zipping and when he got back to me he wrapped us up in a sleeping bag. “Yeah, I killed a big ass gator, so now everybody knows that it wasn’t a myth at all. But y’all, c’mon, it’s easier to believe in mutant gators than a love story where the main player is a witch.
“So, I asked Bucky why I hadn’t heard the whole story before or nobody’d ever threatened me with the witch. ‘That’s simple, you’re a Rumpholt. Elizabeth didn’t hold anything too serious against your ancestors. She saw you as victims of the Parkers for the most part, just like she was.’
“I asked him if the craziness stopped after Elizabeth’s demented little Viking funeral, but I think I already knew the answer. Bucky shrugged and said, ‘I can tell you a little more, but Betty’s done some research on it in the archives here in the hall—’ ”
“The crazy Betty, the same one you blew to pieces in the cove?” Foster asked me as he wrapped the sleeping bags tighter around us.
Betty
“She was just a semi-cranky old lady back then, Foster. She probably was searching for treasure maps in those old documents, but it was before she started collectin’ cats and joining murder conspiracies. So anyway, Bucky tells me according to some of the records from back then things got really cranked up the next October. ‘But this time it seems like it was her husband, not Elizabeth, who stirred up the trouble in town. People started noticing big muddy footprints in all kinds of fu—messed up places. On rooftops, up walls, sometimes starting inside the front door of a house and leading to the bedroom door. Jonas had gone a little bat-shit crazy on account of his crimes, and the Indian focused on him. The leader of the Parkers began to talk about odd sounds coming from his roof on moonless nights, he told a few friends it sounded like a huge bird was perchin’ up there sometimes.’
“Bucky suddenly announced he was due back in the police station and I followed him down the hall. I realized what time it was and hopped in my car to head home. I thought about the muddy footprints and Ty’s anxiety and wondered if the current situation had something to do with Elizabeth and Jonas Parker.
“I fell back into my usual routine but hadn’t quite forgotten about Ty and Rose, or Bucky’s tale, when I got a text from Rose askin’ me to swing by her house when I had the chance. When I got there after school I knocked on the front door but there was no answer. I followed the path and went through the back gate. She was sitting on the steps, sipping from a coffee mug and wearing one of Ty’s sweaters against the cold. She smiled when she noticed me and patted the spot next to her. For a little while we just sat there staring at the garden. A few of the more tender plants had begun to go limp in the chilly air, others were shedding leaves.
“She finally turned to me and I got a good look at how worn, how defeated she looked. She sighed and then said, ‘This might be the last time we get to admire our summer gatherings, Jason. I wonder how this garden will look next year. Ty’s never had much of a green thumb, and you’ll be busy with things teenagers should be enjoying.’ I blushed when she said, ‘You’ll be falling in love, or at least doing things that men obsess about when they’re young. And I’ll be gone. I think I’ll miss you almost as much as I’ll miss Ty.’
“My mind started throwing out all kinds of panic when she said that. I pictured her gone, permanently gone—cancer, cheatin’, drugs, whatever. ‘I don’t get it, Rose. Ty told me you’ve been sick, and no offense but you’re not lookin’ so good right now. But I feel like something...else, somethin’ really friggin’ crazy, is goin’ on here.’ I stared at the walkways but didn’t see any mud, although they did seem to have a wet sheen on them.
She looked at me with a little anger in her eyes. ‘Ty wants me to go to the hospital for a full workup. He thinks it’s a tumor or something eating away at me. Or maybe drugs, but it seems to me like he’s the one with that problem. Then he puts on his psychiatrist’s hat and probes my mind, my heart. And I’m not cheating on him, if that’s what anybody thinks.’ I turned red again. ‘It’s complicated, it’s...terrible and exciting and sad and dangerous, all at the same time. Sometimes I feel like a girl waiting for her wedding day, and other days I wonder if my own funeral is his plan.’
“I tried to understand what she meant by that last thing. ‘Ty wouldn’t ever hurt you, Rose! He loves you, he’s worried about you, you’re everything to him. All he wants to do is help y
ou, understand you—understand what’s goin’ on.’
“She stared at a peach tree at the far end of the yard. With Ty’s sweater hanging over her hands and pulled down to her knees she looked like a scared little girl. She pushed a wisp of long black hair away from her face. ‘I know he’d never hurt me, it’s not in his heart to hurt anybody. And I don’t think there’d really be a funeral. Because I don’t think there would be a body to bury.’ She shivered and sighed and then she walked back into the house and locked the door behind her.
“I drove home, and for the first time that fall I turned on the heat in my car. I breathed in the warm, burnt, dusty air coming out of the vents and still felt cold and lost. I felt a little anger, too—angry that Ty and Rose would draw me into their...troubles. Angry at myself for wantin’ to know more and forget all of it at the same time. I thought about turnin’ around and finding Bucky to pass this bullshit off to him, to anybody else but me. Then I considered heading on home and telling my parents. But I knew all of them would want to dive in and help Rose, Ty, and me to sort everything out. I figured at this point it would just stir the pot more, just make everything more confusin’ to me than it already was.
“I was in school the next day and couldn’t focus on algebra, or the War of 1812, or the reproductive system of a worm before it becomes a moth or whatever.”
“I always kind of wondered,” Foster sounded serious. “Do they lay eggs like a snake, or split like an amoeba? I’m fairly sure they don’t turn into moths, Jason.”
I elbowed him under the sleeping bag. “Like I said, I really wasn’t paying attention. I was in the showers after gym class when I thought of one other adult who might be able to help me put the pieces of this clusterfuck together.”
The Tale of the Swamp and the Rose (Parker's Bluff) Page 3