There is a well known lake around here that a lot of people visit. It crosses the state border with the Catawba River and a couple different counties. It's a must go place for fishing and boating. At one point I think they found alligators living in it for the first time in a long time. Someone speaking of the lake and reminiscing of summers gone by with family reminded me of a few memories as well. About 12 years ago I was visiting the lake with a friend. She was there seeing her father in law, who I will refer to as Uncle. He was a very interesting gentleman that could cuss anyone under the table. He was retired military after all. His favorite thing to do was figure out a way to one up his boat neighbor. This is where the story begins.
Uncle left 4 of us 20 somethings to our own doing after having us take turns blowing up this new floating lounger. He was ecstatic because not only did it have a nice back rest, it also had several places to hold beer while keeping them cold. He took a 12 pack and paddled over to his neighbor, laughing that old man laugh when mischief is afoot. Some of us had experience on the water before, so Uncle wasn't worried. We all understood the dangers of water, etc. He was a thorough man and gave us an hour of lecturing on water safety and boating safety. It was me, my friends Jonathan, Mary, and Abby. We sat on the boat just laughing in the shade of the dock. The weather was wonderful, clear skies, a soft breeze, cool evening. Just fabulous. We had alcohol of our own, rule of the waves was to keep away from the captain's stash. We were enjoying ourselves when Mary noticed how quiet the dock had suddenly become. Abby climbed onto the dry wood that creaked under her weight. The atmosphere had changed. (I will add that this is was suppose to be a hot day at the end of July or the beginning of August, with time the memory slips on dates. The events, however, remain crystal clear as if it happened just moments ago.) Jonathan remained seated as Mary and I stood up to look around. There was a grey mist rolling across the dock and the water. The lake is by no means transparent, it's usually a dark green color. Now it was black and choppy. I cringe now at the thought of it. The water resembled shattered plate glass and looked as if the lightest touch would make you bleed. Abby walked a few feet away and a cold wind drove her back to us. I got a good view of the other boats when she stirred the pooling clouds. They were all dilapidated. Every shipwreck I had seen in books and movies did not hold a candle to the wreckage of centuries old decay on the modern machine. They were waiting coffins on the water. Jonathan finally snaps out of his drunken stupor and starts shouting. We look from where we're huddled together expecting to see what else was going to happen. He's pointing out toward the water. I follow his gaze. Through the swirling vortex of this freakish nightmare, a single dim light from a candle. I swallow hard like I've been eating sand. Abby nearly faints and leans against our boat. Mary lets out a sob and falls to her knees. Jonathan just rubs his face repeatedly in disbelief. "Get on the boat," is all I can manage. I shove the two toward their seats and stand next to Jonathan. "Are we dead?" He looks down at me like I have the answers. "I hope not." "What do we do?" "We stay here. There's no telling what else is out there." Jonathan nods and turns to look at Abby and Mary. "I think those two are going to lose it." "Get them below. We can still hide." I'm the last one below deck by choice. I look back at the glowing light steadily getting closer. "I hope we can hide." I make Mary and Abby sit in the far corner of the bunk so they can feel somewhat safe. Jonathan stands next to the stairs leading above deck. I pace the floor trying to figure out what I did in a past life to get here. The rustling of cloth and shuffling of heavy feet rock the boat. Whoever, whatever the light belongs to, did not get permission to come aboard. As big as it sounded, I doubt it felt the need to ask. Jonathan looks at me and in a whisper, "Did you lock it?" I nod. I know I locked the hatch. It was a heavy duty slide bolt and took both hands for me to wedge it into place. He looks relieved with my response and quietly takes a wooden oar off the wall. I grab the other one and signal for Mary and Abby to be quiet. They might want to give up and cower without a fight, but I won't. I'm making sure that if I get ripped to pieces, it will never forget who I am. A light rasp breaks the tension. "Coin for the journey?" I feel instantly sick. I was too young to meet the ferryman. Mary lets out a whimper. Abby is quiet, probably fainted. Jonathan turns and looks at me as pale as a ghost. I shake my head no. We keep quiet. My hands are hurting from how tightly I'm holding the oar. Jonathan's hands are bleeding. He is gripping that oar tight enough he's digging in. A light rasp breaks the silence again. "Price is a penny. Penny is the price. Coin for the journey?" The floor creaks as the ferryman moves. I step closer as quietly as possible. "Don't do anything." I whisper to Jonathan. A third rasp from directly over my head traces my spine with unease and fear. "Young man, old man. Gentleman too. All come see me. Woman shall too. Coin for the journey?" I hope this is the last time and he gives up. He shifts over to the side of the boat where he boarded. I shake my head as Jonathan moves to go up the steps. "Stay down." It comes out as harsh whisper and I hope it doesn't draw the ferryman back. One last rasp, a distant one, grabs us from our staring contest. "Sensible children, future doth hold. No coin for the journey, no penny to behold." I hope he's gone. Jonathan and I relaxed into the kitchenette set. Abby is definitely unconscious. Mary is near hysterics. I am almost there myself. I put my head down on my arms and drift off to sleep. Hearing Uncle slam his fist down on the table makes the four of us jump out of our skins. "You're missing the fun, lil' shits!! Get up, get the eff out! Fireworks and booze! A military man's worst nightmare and dream come true!" Don't pay the ferryman until you finish your journey. Setting a price with make sure that unwanted journey starts.
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Author34 years of life below the Mason Dixon line leads to a lot of stories of old and new. Archives
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