Chapter 1 - Remembering

The first chapter where young Richard looks back to remember the strange beginnings of The Great parish Swamp.

Chapter 1 - Remembering

  Instead of reading I kept looking at the strange swirling fog while sitting there on the old wooden dock. Dangling my legs down over the side, small fish following their movement back and forth jumped up as if to take a bite. Thoughts of gramps and our walkabouts made it harder to sit here and read than I thought it would be. Memories of things he had said and things I had seen flashed in my head.
  “Sometimes it’s best to fear the shadows themselves than what’s in them,” he’d say, or “What is just is and whatever was will always be.” I heard, “Always remember, never tell,” or “Just in case” every day. Every walkabout taught me something new and afterwards he’d say, “Learning be living.” It was another of his strange sayings I just didn’t understand back then.
  Over time I came to know the swamp quite well. Originally it was called the Parish Swamp, but the word “Great” was added years later. The town’s legends said a pirate was the original owner but no real proof had ever been discovered.
  Thoughts broke my concentration frequently but I kept trying to read knowing something in here had to explain what happened and maybe even why it had happened. Still, reading was only a partial success as more memories of the swamp and its well kept secrets played out. Even the first secret I saw was remembered as if it had just happened and it was one I would never forget. Gramps said it was a secret still very well kept today.
  Leading me to a large tree with overhanging branches gramps showed me how to slide in behind them and we sat on the soft moss covered ground. Hundreds of thin branches reached outward before bending down to create a thick entanglement skirting the tree from the ground up. Seeing through such an entanglement seemed almost impossible.
  “Cool,” I said.
  Gramps chuckled and said, “Yes it is.” Leaning against the rough bark of the tree and looking at the entanglement we were completely hidden from everything outside of it. The soft moss made no sound when we moved and still rich in morning moisture I wondered why its wetness wasn’t felt. Gramps smiled and said it was another secret of the swamp.
  Staring out, I was sure I had seen the branches begin to move before things began blurring up. Gramps said to relax and let my eyes focus. Doing so I saw the swamp taking shape before my eyes.
  The branches slowly disappeared and minutes later and I could see clear out into the swamp. Shaking my head in disbelief they suddenly reappeared. Then I heard gramps chuckling.
  “What happened?” I asked.
   “It’s another swamp secret,” he said. Somehow the eyes focus on the little spaces in between and the branches disappear. Relaxing again I was looking back out into the swamp within minutes. The sounds of swamp life rebounded as chipmunks chittered and birds chirped. Moments later a squirrel came running towards us.
  “Sit still, he can’t see us,” whispered gramps. I nodded my head and just watched. Stopping to bob its head a few times it stared straight at me. Running a few more steps it stopped and did the same thing again. A smile broke across my face as I held the laugher within. Brown velvety fur covered its body and a large fluffy tail darted to one side and shook frantically before darting to the other. Stopping a few feet away it stared with its tiny black eyes looking straight at me and its mouth seemingly smiling. I felt ready to burst with laughter at any moment.
  Suddenly, without warning, the squirrel jumped straight at me. Its tiny hands stretched out as its tail trailed behind like a cape. My heart leapt as my arm went to cover my face and the branch wall appeared between us. Relaxing again I was amazed to see the squirrel still in front of me. On unseen branches it seemed to sit with no knowledge of us at all.
  “So cool,” I whispered. Hearing me the squirrel turned and scurried off. Stopping about twenty feet away it turned to look back and pointing a tiny hand towards us began chittering wildly. I lost control and burst out laughing. Throwing its hands up it chittered even more before scurrying off into the swamp.
  “Can anything see us?” I asked.
  “Not much,” gramps said, “As long as we’re quiet we’re a secret.” It turned out there was another secret he was hoping I’d see. Moments later something began moving in the shadows a ways out. Whatever it was, it was big and moving very slowly. This had to be it I thought but gramps looked a little nervous at first, as if this wasn’t what he expected.
  I watched as the shadow closed in on the open area and took better form. At the clearings edge he stopped and lifted his head upward. Sniffing about in all directions he surveyed the area for danger. Though it was the first time I had seen him it wouldn’t be the last. I just didn’t know it at the time. A tan hide flowed smoothly over the solid muscular frame of a beautiful looking buck sporting a large set of antlers. Nostrils flared as short blasts of air announced his presence. A small, white tufted tail stood up in the presence of uncertainty.
  Such a majestic sight seemed out of place in the swamp. Standing there with the confidence of a king he eyed all that was before him.
  Turning his head towards us a curious gaze shot outward. Muscles rippled as he stepped forward with each hoof slowly lifting and lowering. My heart raced as adrenaline rushed through me. Body warmth increased as beads of sweat formed on my forehead. Trying not to fidget for fear of spooking him I trembled lightly as goose bumps rose along my arms. I wondered if this was what hunters called buck fever.
  Stopping close to us he gazed intently and a look of uncertainty said he pondered what was before him. Time held fast as our eyes locked together. Racing faster still my heart pounded inside my chest as breaths rushed in silence. Beads of sweat trickled downward as vision blurred. Hairs stood on end as goose bumps rose and shivers spread. In a state of near panic my movement remained frozen as my eyes stung of sweat and my pulse raced with excitement. Within the depths of his deep black eyes I stared into his soul and saw a gentleness that left a feeling of sorrow.
  Frozen in the moment I studied every bit of him. Unbelievably large antlers so well defined held a roughness running the length of each. Rising steadily upward they opened wide at points end with dangerously sharp tips. It was then I noticed he should’ve had twelve points but three were missing. Two on one antler and one on the other had been snapped off a few inches from the end.
  Not even in books had I seen a buck this size sporting antlers this big. It almost seemed impossible to hold up until you looked carefully at his muscular build. Easily seen with every movement it offered an awareness of his great strength.
  Suddenly a loud blast of air startled me and left me reeling to scrape against the tree. Alerted to our presence his hoofs dug deep as he turned and bolted to safety. Disappearing behind the branches, another loud snort sounded out before silence took over. Regaining focus I saw he had returned to the shadows just as quickly as he had left them.
  A wash of sadness overcame me and gramps said it would be okay. He must have known how disheartened I felt because he said he had spooked him too, and still, Captain Snaps had returned.

  “How could that be?” I asked.
  “Don’t know,” he said, “It is what it is.”
  He told me the broken antler tips were the reason he was called Captain Snaps. The legend was he lost them fighting something called the darkness. Supposedly it’s a force of nature so powerful it’s almost magical. Whispers say it’s the ugliness of life washed away to the far side of things and it was accidentally set free once.
  “Or so Miss Lindy said,” he added.
  “You mean old lady Lindy knows about him?” I asked. “But how could she have told you? She couldn’t have taught school here when you were young.” Giving me an odd look he said some of her relatives had been teachers here too.
  “So magic is real?” I asked doubtfully.
  “Some say it is, most say it isn’t,” he said. “It’s a truth and denial sort of thing. Does it really exist or doesn’t it?”
  Looking at the page before me I tried reading but again the memories took over. I remembered the day we went deeper into the swamp than we had ever gone before. It was to a place where the trees overshadowed everything. Taller than any I had ever seen and scattered all over they formed a branch canopy barely letting the light escape to the swamp floor. Large branches grew so thickly along the entire length you could almost climb to the top ones and easily sit back and relax without any fear of falling off.
  Branches entangled with ones from neighboring trees so much it was impossible to tell from which trees they grew. Staring up I saw very few leaves anywhere. The lower branches were completely bare of them. However the few I saw added softness to the entanglement overhead. Most were only seen as rays of sunlight broke through and reflected off them. Millions of tiny rays of light fought to reach the ground in a desperate attempt to give life to the plants scattered about and the animals living within them.
  Gramps told me I was looking at what the original natives called “treywah” meaning treewalks. Scattered throughout the swamp a lot of swamp life used them to move about. Supposedly there was as much life up there as there was down here.
  Wherever the light broke through plants were taller and richer in color and more animals scurried about. The more shadowed areas seemed much colder and lifeless. Gramps said the mossy paths we walked on would always be safest where they were better lit.
  The natives called them “mosswah” meaning mosswalks. I noticed most of the scurrying swamp life stayed on them as well.
  That was the first time gramps said, “Sometimes it’s best to fear the shadows themselves than what’s in them.” I didn’t really understand it then but I knew it was important. Gramps never said anything without a good reason for saying it.
  Shaking my head to clear my thoughts I tried reading again but found myself wandering back just as before. I remembered a day grams had gone with us to do a begettin.
  Even though she had a fear of the swamp she made a trip in now and then but it was only when it was time for one of her begettins. I asked her once just what a begettin was and she and gramps laughed lightly before she explained it. She said it was when she went to gather things she needed. It didn’t matter if she was uncomfortable because there were things her food and drinks simply could not do without.
  I laughed when she said, “A little of this and a little of that, keeps a person healthy not fat.” Gramps always teased her about the thought of them ever getting fat and she always pretended to get stern with him before saying, “It was her, this and that, which allowed him to go here and there!”
  Grams went in that day but still she couldn’t wait to finish and return home. Picking a wide variety of things she made sure to fill our backpacks and not once did she leave our sight. She was always near gramps no matter what. Once we had enough to last her awhile we returned home. She always found what she needed, except something called “barksbright.” She said it was much too deep into the swamp for her liking. I remembered her mumbling something about it all growing on the other side. When I asked her about it she laughed and said the other side of the trees. Then she mumbled something about, “Always remember, never tell.”
  Gramps had a look of surprise after hearing that and it was a look I hadn’t seen before. I remembered him chuckling and saying, “Always remember, never tell.” Seeing the odd look on my face afterwards caused them both to laugh even more.
  Another thing I remembered was the strange looking bracelet she wore that day. She always wore it on her begettins but not any other time. It was a small green vine coiled around her wrist with one end pointing outward. Asking her about it she said it had been a gift from a very dear friend.
  Suddenly a soft breeze blew across the water. A chill spread along my arms bringing my thoughts back to the present.
  Looking down at the page I realized I had gotten nowhere on reading. Another breeze blew by sending goose bumps everywhere. Hairs stood on end as my ears were deceived by the sound rushing past.
  “Reessssharddd,” it whispered. Shaking my head in disbelief I thought I heard it again. “Reessssharddd,” it sounded out softly before trailing off into silence. I trembled slightly and swallowed the newly formed lump in my throat.
  “No,” I said aloud. “It’s only my imagination.” Still, I couldn’t shake the odd feeling it had put inside me.
  It was a feeling that someone was truly calling out to me somehow. Again I shook my head and looked down. If I was going to find out more I knew I needed to read more.
  Suddenly the breeze seemed to call out again. I thought of how strange all this felt. Here I was thinking of gramps and suddenly hearing something that sounded close to my name. I knew this really couldn’t be happening though. That was impossible but still it seemed awful strange.
  Then I remembered many strange things had happened in Parish. People went missing in the swamp every few years and none were to be seen or heard from again. Supposedly they had gotten lost in the strange fog that never went away. It was always there cutting straight through the swamp and out over the water on both sides. Turning outward towards the horizon it went out as far as the eye could see and it wasn’t like any fog anyone had ever seen before.
  Even the old legends about the town itself were pretty strange. So called pirates were supposedly the town’s founders and they had supposedly hidden a treasure somewhere. Even Miss Lindy and her relatives all teaching here since the settlement was first built was a little odd. Parish was truly anything but normal.
  I remembered the first time I saw the cabin and how it all looked like a step back in time. The walls were evenly stacked logs of rough cut timber without any bark. The odd thing was a super hard sap used to seal the cracks between them. As hard as rock yet as clear as glass it flowed evenly along leaving no gaps anywhere. It was as if the wood bled out somehow. Gramps said he didn’t know what it was but somehow I wasn’t sure he was telling the truth.
  Grey wood planks placed tightly aside each other along the length of each room created the floor. Their color had long since faded with time. Seams and cracks sealed with the strange sap left a strong solid floor.
  The kitchen area held a small wooden table with four wooden chairs looking to be over a hundred years old.
  The wood was dried, the color faded, and all of it was marred in a multitude of places. Above the table hung an old oil lamp, used only when gramps stayed late, but that was rare even for gramps. On the wall to the right was a small window painted with the dust of time.
  To the left of the kitchen was the living room. It held a dark green armchair well worn with faded patches on both its wide rounded arms. The seat cushion was saggy in the center despite grams best efforts to restuff it. Sitting into its comfort you felt like relaxing and kicking your feet out onto the oval rug lying on the floor. Being a thick rug it had not been worn through anywhere.
  Yet its colors had long since faded and its designs were no longer crisp and detailed. Grams found it and said she knew right where it belonged. She had been right since its rustic look was a nice offset to the grey wooden floor beneath it.
  Alongside the chair was a large piece of chopped wood being used as an end table. Holding another oil lamp its cloth covering draped down to skirt the floor around it.
  On an outer wall was a stone fireplace made from odd shaped stones cemented together with more of the strange sap. Its mantle, being more carefully made, had its stones fitted tighter together, forming a smooth flat surface. Dust covered soot formed a dark coating over the undisturbed ashes in the unused fire pit. Logs, stacked alongside were as dust covered as everything else.
  Above the mantle was a painting of a beautiful young lady from long ago. Gramps said it had been here as long as he could remember and her name was still a secret to discover. He said he had sat here at times lost in her beautiful gaze and innocent smile.
  Her eyes stared directly outward and watched you no matter where you were. A life like sparkle shined in them and the odd thing was it didn’t look to be painted on at all. Gramps said it was nothing more than an illusion but it was a good one.
  On the mantle sat a few odd shaped pieces of colored glass. Gramps laughed when I said they looked more like crystals. In different colors, shapes, and sizes they sat next to a few old coins and an odd looking stone box. The box, etched with decorative designs was shaped like a miniature treasure chest. Gramps said he had never found a way to open it and not wanting to ruin it by prying it open it sat there still holding its secrets after all this time.
  A small hallway leading to two more rooms split the back wall of the room. There was a bedroom on the left and a bathroom on the right.
  The bedroom held an old double bed leaving just enough room to walk around. In the corner was another end table like the one in the living room. On it sat an old wind up style alarm clock with a bell and hammer of solid brass. Across from the door on the outer wall was another window.
  The bathroom, being the same size as the bedroom, held a basin sink, a mirror, and a tub. The claw foot tub with rounded ends had no faucets for lack of running water. White in color it was well decorated with the scratches of time.
  The metal basin sink sat atop a wooden cabinet once painted white. The sinks round design was slightly rusted and held the rough edges of age.
  The cabinet was now speckled with chipped and peeling paint and looking as old as everything else. On the wall above them was a cracked mirror in a carved frame now dulled and split where a piece of wood had been replaced.
  To me the cabin looked great and seemed to be perfect for a clubhouse. I spent so much time here gramps had given me a key and even grams hadn’t gotten that. Gramps said she didn’t need it though since she always got in when she needed to.
  A rickety old bridge crossing the stream behind the cabin had some of its planks replaced a long time back. A thick rope served as its handrail and held it all together. It ran across the fast moving stream to the swamp on the other side. Gramps always said to hold firm to the rope when crossing because the streams current was strong enough to carry me away if I ever fell in.
  I felt the soft breeze on my skin and the strange whisper returned. I listened as it repeated before trailing off into silence. Looking up at the strange fog I thought it was odd how the breezes made it swirl yet never really moved it. It was a solid wall of fog disappearing into the swamp and coming out on the other side.
  It seemed to keep everything behind it hidden from sight. Even the treetops couldn’t be seen as it rose to the sky above. Birds flew in and oddly enough never came back out. Gramps said never enter it since almost no one that had, had ever returned.
  He did say two men on a search and rescue said they had mistakenly wandered in just briefly. Coming back out they were in a state of hysteria and mumbling about monsters. He said no matter what happens there was never a reason good enough to enter it but for once I knew he had been wrong.
  Sitting here it seemed reading was proving to be impossible and the more I tried the more I failed. Then I remembered the first time I had gotten close to the fog. It was on my first real walkatoo with gramps. Our walkatoo was to get something grams needed and I was sure I knew what it was. Taking a mosswalk leading to the center I noticed him marking the trees we passed with an “R.” He said it was to help us find our way back out.
  Looking around I saw an ugly brown mud scattered about in puddles. Gramps said never touch it for any reason. He said it was like quicksand only worse. It stuck to you like glue and nothing had ever gotten back out of it. I noticed a slightly worried look on his face as he spoke of it.
    We finally stopped in an open area surrounded by trees and much closer to the fog.
  Sitting on some dead logs lying about we kept it directly in front of us. After lunch I followed gramps to the backside of the trees and he pointed to a strange toadstool growing on them. It was light green in color and seemed to glow a little.
  “This is barksbright,” he said.
  “So this is what grams wanted,” I said.
  “Yep,” he replied, “This is it.” Breaking off some we put it in our backpacks. It felt soft and spongy and almost seemed to squish between your fingers. When we had gathered enough gramps said it was time to see one more thing.
  Slowly heading towards the fog we stopped about ten feet away. Stabbing a stick into the ground at our feet he had me follow him even closer to the fog. We walked about twenty paces and still the fog stayed ahead of us.
  “Well,” said gramps smiling.
  “Well what,” I said in confusion.
  “Look down,” he said, “What do you see?” Looking down I saw the stick in the ground. Seeing the look of surprise on my face he laughed and had me follow him again. Another twenty steps and again the stick was at our feet. I stood there in total confusion as gramps laughed.
  “How can this be?” I asked. Gramps said it was another of the swamps secrets. “Then how could someone get lost in it?” I asked.
  “No one knows,” he said. He told me not for any reason should I try this alone. It was far too dangerous. Afterwards we headed back to the cabin with him wiping off the chalk marks as we went.
  “I don’t see how anyone could get lost in it,” I said. He said there were places where one could enter but he didn’t know where they were.
  Again I got the feeling he wasn’t being totally honest. Arriving at the cabin we found grams waiting inside. She had gotten in just as he said she could. I remember the look of surprise on her face when we gave her the barksbright.
  “I can’t believe you took him in that far,” she said.
  “It’s okay Gen,” he said, “he’s old enough now.” She was even more surprised when I mentioned the stick trick he had shown me.
  “We’ll talk later,” she said giving him a stern look and taking the barksbright. She thanked me for getting the one thing she really needed and headed for home.
  “Why was she mad?” I asked. Gramps said she thought I was still too young to learn this stuff and was worried, not mad.
  My body shook all over as the breeze blew by me again. It was getting cooler now and reading just wasn’t working.
  Standing up I headed back to the cabin figuring it to be a little warmer and a lot more comfortable. Maybe I would at least get some serious reading done there if nothing else.

Author's Note

Please feel free to comment on ways to improve the beginning.