Incident at Walter's Creek



  Incident at Walter’s Creek

  A Short Story by

  Mark Paul Jacobs

  Copyright © 2010 by Mark Paul Jacobs

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  The Yaakmen of Tyrie (The complete 5 part novel)

  Author’s note: I hope you enjoy this story as much as I enjoyed writing it for you. Please don’t be afraid to tell me what you think via reviews or my Facebook page. I’m eager to hear from you.

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Incident at Walter’s Creek

  “Y’er just plain crazy,” Andrew Jackson Thomkins said, “if y’er think there’s anything out at the old Fetter’s place except for a couple scrawny goats and maybe a corn-mash whiskey still er two.”

  Zacharias Neil spat a huge wad of chew and ducked low. “Andy, you're always thinkin’ you're so smart. Maybe ‘cause your momma named you for a president? You don’t know shit, though.”

  “Aunt Jane named me right after the inager... inauguration, Zack; shows how much y’er—”

  “Nobody, done give a piss... here, look!” Zacharias pulled up behind a big oak. He took a deep breath and peered around its wide trunk. A handful of sinewy willows stood before him, all spaced out along an old dirt road and a barren orchard. Momma always said willows made her feel like crying, Zack thought. Made her feel downright sad, she said. I guess that’s why they call em weepin’. Zack motioned the other boys forward. “C’mon Aaron, move!”

  Little Aaron Neil pushed his spectacles to the bridge of his pug nose and tugged his suspenders. “I don't know ‘bout this, Zack. Momma told us not t'get in none trouble. I ain’t in a mood for no whopping.” Aaron rubbed his butt.

  “You just got no balls, that is...”

  “Aw, he’s just a little squirt,” Andy said. “Prob’bly piss his pants, anyways.”

  “Naw, won’t...” Aaron puffed his tiny chest. He surged past the oak, leaving Andy and Zack behind.

  Andy cackled.

  “Aaron wait... shit.” Zack jumped up and sprinted after Aaron. He caught his younger brother by the suspenders, throwing him to the ground underneath a willow’s canopy.

  “Awl...”

  “Just simmer down, Aaron. You gotta just simmer down. We all gotta keep our heads ‘bout this.”

  Aaron scowled.

  Andy Thomkins caught up from behind, still snickering.

  Zacharias sighed deeply. He dropped to the ground, his butt braced against a willow’s trunk. “Jonas and Wilma Fetter’s place,” he said, pointing. “Right o'er past the road and that old rotten fence all cover’n weeds. That overgrown corn field over there was where it all began.”

  Andy fell to his hands and knees, peering forward. “And how’d you come to known any this?”

  Zacharias grinned. “Ole’ Thad Johnson. He'd told me so himself.”

  “Thad Johnson! He an old crazy Negro as there ever been... shit.”

  “Weren't crazy until then—”

  “Shit... Zack.”

  “I’m telling you, old Thad were helpin' out on the Fetter’s right o’er yonder. Had a little spot to himself, eight er ten acres. He’d be right there that night. Scared da’ shit right out'a him. He told me he’d never come back. Never!”

  Aaron’s eyes widened like a startled cat. “That true Zack?”

  Andy Thomkins shook his head. “Dammed, Aaron you’d believe anything. You gotta learn your brother’s full a' dung shit.”

  “Well you can’t deny, Andy, something happened that night?”

  “Shit—”

  Zack drew his younger brother close. “Listen Aaron, 'bout sixteen years ago, right near’d this very spot your standin’ all hell broke loose. It were fall after harvest and the night were black as coal, no moon or nothin’. Johnson were sleeping in that there old shack over there past that fence. He’d didn’t have family or wife or nothing, just him and an old hound dog.

  “Well, 'bouts midnight, the dog started barkin’ up a storm. Thad said he looked out and the whole woods wer’nd all lit up like it were noon on a sunny day.

  “He didn't have no gun, so he went outside and let the hound loose. Funny the dog didn’t run, just stood there whimperin’, Thad said.

  “Well, only thing Thad could think is there'n a big fire coming their way, so he ran over to the Fetter's and went knocking. Comes a bit, and Jonas Fetter and his grown son, Jacob comes to the door. After Thad tells em about the fire, they grab their coats and run outside. Thad Johnson told me that even the Fetter's two hounds weren’t too happy about going outside in the dark; they just sat there all whimpering just like his dog done. Usually they'd be jumping around, barking, and carrying on and such.

  “So them three went out in the night, darker than shit. Thad says after they get walking toward the woods, they all seen that light Johnson were talking about; it was kinda filtering through the trees. Thad said it was the oddest thing he'd ever saw; the closer they got, the brighter the woods got. The trees, he said, looked like giant crooked fingers against the light. He said there was no sounds, either… none at all.”

  Andy Jackson Thomkins shook his head. “Now how was there a fire without no sounds? And why wasn't the woods all burned down?”

  “That's the thing, Andy. Thad Johnson told me it weren't no fire. Told me there were no smoke and no flickerin'; it were like an big oil lamp or something.”

  “A big lamp in the middle of the woods at midnight?” Andy crossed his arms.

  “That’s what he'd said.”

  “Prob'bly set their corn-mash whiskey still on fire. Prob'bly drank too much and burnt the place up.”

  Little Aaron giggled. “Burned da place... shit.”

  Zack's eyes narrowed. “Aaron, you ain’t gonna be laughing when you hear what Thad Johnson told me next. He said that when they'd got real close they'd start seeing little shadows creepin’ through the trees. They couldn't really make em out right clear, but Johnson said he got so scared he took off running back toward the Fetter's place. Thad told me something just snapped in his head. Told me it reminded him of Mississippi when he escaped from that plantation when he'd be about our age, and they'd come after him with torches, muskets, and dogs in the middle of the night. Scared him half to death back then, but he'd got away. But he told me this were differn't, he said; he'd just couldn't tell me why—just different.

  “Well, Jonas and Jacob weren’t too far behind, and they ran into their cabin, just over yonder, shuttin' the door real tight. Real quick, they grabbed their muskets and powder. Jacob even gave Thad a gun and some lead. Thaddeus had some practice shootin' a bobcat or bear every once in a while when they'd come prowlin' around, so they all loaded up.

  “Wilma Fetter was up and about by that time, and after they told her what were going on, she'd opened up the two big windows they'd had facin' the woods. It was kinda chilly, but all four of them peeked out to see what was going on. Thad said that he'd noticed that the light had grow'd and now almost lit up the whole dammed forest. That's when Wilma began sniffin' and asking what that smell were. She said, something smelled real bad, like somthin’s died. Just then, Thad told me all of em smelled it... all musty like a dead bear left rotting in a c
reek for a whole month. And that's when they started to see em…”

  “Seen… seen… what?” Aaron's eyes bulged.

  “The monkeys.”

  “Monkeys…?”

  “Yep, that's about the only thing they could be. They were short as you, Aaron, with long arms and as skinny as sticks; they slinked around from out of the woods… had big eyes blacker than the night itself. I’d asked Miss Howard to pull me a picture book from the library and show me a drawing. She’d heard the story about the Fetter's and said Old Johnson were playing me like a little fool. She’d told me monkeys lived in Africa, way across the ocean. You see, Aaron, their'n no monkeys in Walter’s Creek, or in Sweetwater, or anywhere in Monroe County; maybes not even in all of Tennessee.”

  “Not even in Sweetwater?”

  “Not even... well, except’n zoos in big cities way out east, she said.”

  “Can’t imagine anything bigger’n Sweetwater...”

  “Just listen up... funny thing is Thad Johnson was born’d in Africa. He lived there until he were snatched up and brought over to work the plantations. He said to me, these were no kinds of monkeys he'd ever seen… said they were more like little demons.”

  “Demons? Like demons from… hell.” Aaron adjusted his spectacles and glanced around.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Andy Jackson snickered. “Shit…”

  “The Parson told Thad afterwards that they could've been sent from Satan himself, but even Thad admitted the Parson always thought he were a bit crazy.”

  Aaron asked, “Well, what happened to the monkeys, Zack?”

  “Thad Johnson and the Fetter’s all got real scared… I mean real scared. They all began shooting. Thad and Jacob got two of em with their first shots, whilst Wilma ran off screaming, shutting herself in a back room. Thad said the monkeys all started to scramble around in the dark after they heard the first shots, takin' up behind trees and behind their water-well and shed.”

  “The shed with the whiskey still,” Andy said, grinning.

  “Well, Thad told me they got four of em before they hid away. That's when he told me he thought they were kinda smart; didn't act like no animal he'd know'd of. He'd said the Fetter's dogs still didn't bark; they’d just lay curled up in the corner all moaning.

  “So they all took a couple a breaths and reloaded their guns, and that's when Jonas start hearing some scratching on the roof. Jonas looked at Thad and Thad looked at Jacob, and the three of them ran out the door just a little ways before turnin’ around. Jacob pointed, tellin’ his father, look! There on the roof was two more of em crouching down real low; they were trying to keep out of sight, he said. But they were right in the Fetter's gun sights, and Jacob and Jonas took them out with a single shot each. Thad said they'd just slid off the roof and onto the ground, hitting without even a sound. Thad said they weighed no more than a feather, all willowy and such.

  “They waited for a little spell and reloaded. Thad finally got up the nerve to put a ladder up to the roof. Real careful, he climbed up and slinked to the chimney while Jacob and Jonas watched from the ground, keepin' their eye on things. Thad looked over the other side, noticing the trap door to their attic were open wide as can be.”

  “Shit…” Aaron said. “What'd they do?”

  “While all this shooting was going on all around her, Wilma Fetter was huddlin’ in a back room crying her eyes out. And this is when it all started to get really strange, Aaron.”

  “You mean, Zack, it got stranger than this?”

  Zacharias pulled even closer. “You see, Wilma told Thad after this was over that she'd been all cryin', and then all the sudden she'd looked up and in the candlelight she'd saw one of these monkeys standin' right in front of her. She'd said the thing didn't move at all, just stood there looking at her with big black eyes, looked like walnuts. Funny thing is that she felt all calm all the sudden. She said she heard someone talking in her head saying, it'll be alright. I won't hurt you. She said the thing pulled something out that looked like the shaft of a quill pen but all shiny like gold. Before you know it, that monkey shoved it right into Wilma's neck. Wilma said she didn't hardly flinch, but it hurt a bit. Then again, she told Johnson, she really didn't care.

  “That's when the door busted in.”

  “What… what happened to the monkey?”

  Zack smirked, peering around the tree again. “That's why we're here, lit’l brother.”

  “What'da mean?”

  “Well ya see, Aaron, there are two stories round about. To this day Thad Johnson says they shot the critter right then and there—buried all their little bodies right by the shed over yonder. Jonas and Wilma were right talkative at first, but after a while they just got laughed at. And now, the Fetters say it never even happened. Young Jacob left home for good the next day, but before he left town he got drunk and told some people that the last monkey was spared by Wilma. Just a few months back my pa heard that the Fetter's still had the monkey; he said they kept it in their root cellar beside their house all wrapped up in chains, feeding it corn mash and sweet potatoes.”

  “No shit...? Aaron peered ahead.

  “Listen Aaron,” Andy said. “Don't get too excited. This's all a big load of horse manure. Everyone knows the Fetters have been runnin' a still up here for years. They'd just made up this story to scare everybody away. And Thad Johnson is just a crazy black man. I mean, most time his mind's all senseless on whiskey himself. You can smell it on his breath.”

  Zack laughed. “Well, there's only one way to find out!”

  “You don't mean…” Aaron said. “You don't mean you’re goin' over there and take a peek in that cellar?”

  “Shit yea,” Andy said. “And you’re coming with me, right Zack?”

  Zacharias spat and stooped low. “C'mon, let's go…”

  Zack and Andy darted across the road, ducking behind an overgrown bush. Aaron scooted up behind them. Zack pushed his finger to his lips. He pointed toward the shed and then to the door leading down to the root cellar.

  “Geeez,” Andy said, dipping lower. “I just saw somebody at the window.”

  “I'm… I'm just scared,” Aaron said, shaking. “I ain't goin’ no closer.”

  “Now,” Zack said.

  Andy and Zack sprinted toward the cellar door. Little Aaron peered out sheepishly from behind the bush. Zigzagging and crouching low, they finally stood above the door. Zack dropped to his knees, his chest heaving. He pressed his ear to the entrance. “I don't hear nothing,” he whispered.

  Andy glanced around. “Open er' up... C'mon.”

  “You do! You're the one always crackin' funny.”

  “Shit…”

  Andy grabbed the latch and pulled the door open. The two boys peered timidly downward and into the darkness.

  Andy giggled. “Shit… see! Nothing…”

  Suddenly, a hideous face appeared several feet below; its eyes were wild and crazed, and it lunged upward furiously making a horrible growling squeal.

  Zack and Andy jumped to their feet, screaming madly. With arms flailing, they sprinted toward the bush where Aaron cowered. Aaron saw the two older boys shooting past him, and he screamed himself. Turning suddenly, Aaron tripped over his own feet, falling face down and losing his spectacles. Not bothering to look for his glasses, he darted toward his companions as fast as his little legs could carry him.