Ch. 1
KilroywasNOTHere
"BEEP!"
Macready was never one to receive visitors. It didn't help that the gas station which he owned was in the middle of a dirt road where civilization couldn’t be seen for miles on end. The main bulk of his income came from either truckers on their way to Memphis, or the locals needing to get their groceries for the week.
Visitors on the other hand were another thing entirely. Typically you only came through Blackwater if you knew the place, which meant you either lived there at one time or you had family or friends in the area . One could probably imagine the shock on Old Macready’s face when he heard the sound of an old putt-putt come to a sickening stall.
The old man peered out the window to see a young man with a two piece suit and a small mustache exit out of the vehicle. It didn't take long to figure that the man was either a businessman probably heading to the bigger cities, or a Pastor trying to find a house of God. whoever the man was he clearly had a look of distraught and frustration on his face and based on the cloud of thick black smoke coming from the front of the vehicle, it wasn’t hard to deduce why.
"Having a little trouble there boy?"
the old man proceeded to walk towards the young man and his car, though his bummed legs made him more or less waddle with a very pronounced gait. the young man looked at Macready and shook his head.
“Oh it’s just this piece of junk, thought it could make a trip cross country. It’ll do fine I said, take a shortcut through Blackwater I said.”
Macready nodded. “Heading to Memphis I take it?”
“Tipton actually, I promised the congregation I’d have a sermon for Sunday worship Figured if I took a shortcut through Blackwater I could cut about half a day’s travel and make it there by tomorrow night. I wasn’t taking it into account that this thing would fall apart on me.”
Macready gave a basic look over the vehicle, a small smile creeped across his face.
“Well you know what your problem is don’t ya boy?”
The young pastor shook his head.
“It’s made in japan.” The Pastor lips slowly stretched into a smile as he began to give a hardy laugh. He then proceeded to take a double take as he seemingly recognized the old man.
“Macready, Old man Macready?”
Macready tilted his head to his side. “Do I know you boy?”
“Joseph, Joseph Cassidy.”
Macready’s mouth slowly dropped as his eyes began to beam in joy and excitement. It was not long before he embraced the young man in a frail attempt at a bear hug.
“Little Joseph Cassidy, I haven’t seen you since you were a wee little lad. Now look at you, a fine strapping young man.”
“I’m still little it seems.” Joseph said with a smile “still a few good inches shorter than the average man. maybe 5ft and 4 in on a good day.”
“Ah could be worse though. You could have rickety old knees like mine.”
“Count your blessings I suppose. For example at least I didn’t break down in the middle of the wilderness.”
Macready nodded. “Well, I might be able to get your vehicle fixed, but you can forget reaching your destination by The Lord’s Day."
Joseph gave a huff in disappointment. “I was really hoping you wouldn’t say that, but nothing to be done I suppose.”
“Well, if you don’t want to miss the assembly, you could always go to the congregation here in Blackwater. The congregation could use some good old fashion truth of God.”
“Really, I’ll have to take you up on that offer. In the meantime, do you happen to a phone I could use?
Macready nodded. “in the back near the restroom, feel free to relive yourself if you need to.”
Once joseph took care of business he thanked Macready for his hospitality.
“I appreciate your generosity.” If I may ask where this congregation is?”
Macready pointed at the woods past Blackwater creek.
“into the woods past the creek through the crooked road, ultimately your best bet’s to walk. Your cars shot, it’s a hassle to bike, and horses get spooked even in the daylight. “
“I can see why.” Joseph said giving a thousand yard stare as he listen to the echoes of the chirping insects. His face grew pale as his lips began to quiver ever so slightly. The change in the young man’s face did not escape Macready’s notice.
“You haven’t taken a step in Blackwater creek sense you were nine years old.”
“I know,” Joseph acknowledged. “I don’t think I can ever forget the last day I stepped near the area.”
“Care to share what happened boy?” Macready asked. “I’ve always been curious as to what made you grow so pale every time you looked at those woods. .
“It’s a long story for a long night. Care to spend it?”
Macready gave a grin. “I’m an old man who doesn’t have much time to spend, but I’m always willing to lend an ear to a good old tale.”
Macready proceeded to pull up a couple of creaking chairs, offering joseph a pipe and a light. Joseph declined the offer however. “I’m not one to smoke, however if you could spare a lamp I’d be grateful.
Macready once again gave a grin. “Ah so it’s that kind of a story eh? Say no more.”
Macready went to the back of the store and grabbed a lamp. Joseph lit it and sat it down as Macready lit a pipe.
“When momma died of breast cancer, me and my brothers were sent to Blackwater with old grandma, God rest her soul. She may have raised a few wild boys, but she wasn’t willing to raise fools. Stay away from the old woods she’d tell us. You never know when an old boar may charge you or worse. Course we never took Grandma’s warnings seriously we were just a few dumb old boys.
One day my brothers and I decided to go frog hunting in the creek. We took a couple of Beebe guns and some old flashlights. I of course was the youngest and most cowardly of them all. My eldest as is tradition it seems among kin, would take the time to tease me and mock me for being afraid.
"You know about the ogress in the woods, don’t you? taller than a man in fact over six feet tall, her hair is red with the blood of slaughtered piglets, mangled and tangled like a lion’s mane, They say she’s so strong she can break the back of a wild boar, but no one knows what she truly looks like, for she wears a mask of stitched up pigskin, twisted to look like the facsimile of a wild boar, but worst of all, she’s said to snatch up little boys, small…terrified…little boys…like you.”
On cue the middle of us would jump from behind the bush, and as predictable as I was, I cried and wailed. My brothers however would not laugh for long, for suddenly from within the woods we heard what I can only describe as a wail or a shriek. We couldn’t tell if it was a boar or maybe a coyote. My eldest decided to investigate it. Armed with little with his rifle and a flashlight, he ventured in the woods. He couldn’t have been gone for more than a few minutes before suddenly there was a loud shriek. My brother emerged from the foliage. His skin was pale his eyes wide with feared. His legs carried him faster than any man or beast I had seen. A single word emerged from his lips, though it came out as little more than a shout or cry.
He simply said “Run!”
I don’t know why I didn’t follow my brothers that day. Perhaps I felt I had something to prove. Perhaps I wanted to one up my siblings, but for whatever reason, I turned the other way towards the sound with little more than my rifle and flashlight by my side. That’s when I saw her, or maybe perhaps that’s when she found me. I remember it as clear as day. She stood at a little over 6 feet tall. Broad at the shoulders, a bit narrow in the hip. Her hair was mangled in twisted like the main of a wild lion; its hue was as red as the color of blood. She reeked of death, her face emotionless, covered by a stitched up mask made of pig skin twisted in a facsimile of a boar.
She crouched down inches from my face before giving me a slight snarl. I ran, I ran until my legs and willpower could carry me no further. But still I heard her yells echoing in my ear. What little life I had flashed before my eyes and I wept. I wept for not listening to grandma, I wept for being such a foolhardy child. Surly the ogress would devour my flesh and throw my bones onto the bank as a warning for anyone who dared enter those woods at night. I found myself seeing the songs of my ancestors. It was a song my grandmother sang to me just as her mother sung to her.
As I was a-walking down by st. Peter's Hospital
I was a-walking down by there one day
What should I spy but a young bloodied yankee all wrapped in flannel
Skin cold as the clay
I asked him what ailed him
I asked him what failed him
I asked him the cause of his look of dismay
It’s all on account of dear pale maiden Lily
Tis she that has caused me to weep and lament
And had she but told me before she disowned me.
Had she but told me of it in time. I might not have gone and carried the musket
But now I'm a solider cut down in of my prime.
Get my dear brothers to carry my coffin.
get my dear sisters to sing me a song
And each of them make mine a closed iron casket
so they don't weep as they bear me along.
Don't muffle your drums and play your horns proudly.
Lay a quick march as you carry me along
And fire your bright muskets all over my coffin.
'Sayin' there goes an Unfortunate Lad to his home
For but a moment there was silence and I thought for a second that maybe the terror was over, but when I turned around I saw myself staring into feral eyes, not that of any ogress, but of that of a feral boar. I turned to run, but I tripped over a branch, squealing in pain as the beast clamped on my leg. I tried to fight, God knows I tried. But it seemed like the more I fought, the tighter the boar’s vice became. I prayed to the Lord and I cried.
“God, God please have mercy on this wicked child, if it be your will I know that you can save me from the jaws of the boar just as you saved Daniel from the Den of the great lions.”
I gave out one final squeal, closing my eyes and accepting whatever fate the Lord deemed fitting. Suddenly the vice grip of the boar began to loosen and it seemingly gave a loud squeal. I looked up and there was the ogress her arms wrapped around the boar. The Boar fought hard but the ogress fought harder, squeezing tighter and tighter till a loud snap echoed through the woods. The boar fell limp as the Ogress dropped it to the ground. She then slowly walked over to me before standing there motionless. I had no idea how to react. Had this ogress, this girl that looked as though she were spawned by the devil himself actually saved my life? Had God sent her to save me from the jaws of the boar?
Looking to my left I saw a single yellow dandelion a single ray of moonlight shined upon it as if the Lord himself were telling me to take it. Without so much as a word I plucked it and held it up to her, my palms shook and sweated fearful of how she might react. To my surprise however she simply knelt down and took it. I could almost swear I saw a smile form from her lips. The sound of my grandma’s voice rang through the woods as she called my name.
The Ogress ran deep into the underbrush dragging the corpse of the boar behind her with one hand while carrying the dandelion in the other not a second later my grandmother emerged armed with a shotgun, my brothers walked behind her as if they were baby ducks following their mothers. Through grit and tears I sobbed, telling grandma of what had happened. She however would not say a word. When I came of age, I was baptized and dedicated my life to the Lord, and I moved to the city to make my fortune. I haven’t stepped near Blackwater Creek since, fifteen years to the day in fact. The funny thing is. I know for a fact that this ogress was not a woman but a child.”
Joseph chuckled. “I know I sound mad, a mere child standing taller than a man and strong enough to drag a boar with one hand, but it’s true I could tell she must not have been much older than I was. I have to wonder if she was that tall and mighty at such a young age, how much more she would be once reaching full maturity. I would not blame you if you do not believe me. I can only give you my word”
Joseph gave another small chuckle only to find that Macready was not laughing. No in fact his face gave a look of wonder perhaps even horror. He quickly got out of his seat and turned the other way, muttering with excitement as if new life had been given to him.
“What is it?” Joseph asked following behind the old man.
“Every year since you left, every year without fail, in fact not even an hour before you came.”
“What do you mean?” Joseph asked.
Macready directed him to the house in which his grandmother had raised him. Joseph was stunned at what was before him, for on the back porch was the carcass of a boar and a pile of dandelions.
Visitors on the other hand were another thing entirely. Typically you only came through Blackwater if you knew the place, which meant you either lived there at one time or you had family or friends in the area . One could probably imagine the shock on Old Macready’s face when he heard the sound of an old putt-putt come to a sickening stall.
The old man peered out the window to see a young man with a two piece suit and a small mustache exit out of the vehicle. It didn't take long to figure that the man was either a businessman probably heading to the bigger cities, or a Pastor trying to find a house of God. whoever the man was he clearly had a look of distraught and frustration on his face and based on the cloud of thick black smoke coming from the front of the vehicle, it wasn’t hard to deduce why.
"Having a little trouble there boy?"
the old man proceeded to walk towards the young man and his car, though his bummed legs made him more or less waddle with a very pronounced gait. the young man looked at Macready and shook his head.
“Oh it’s just this piece of junk, thought it could make a trip cross country. It’ll do fine I said, take a shortcut through Blackwater I said.”
Macready nodded. “Heading to Memphis I take it?”
“Tipton actually, I promised the congregation I’d have a sermon for Sunday worship Figured if I took a shortcut through Blackwater I could cut about half a day’s travel and make it there by tomorrow night. I wasn’t taking it into account that this thing would fall apart on me.”
Macready gave a basic look over the vehicle, a small smile creeped across his face.
“Well you know what your problem is don’t ya boy?”
The young pastor shook his head.
“It’s made in japan.” The Pastor lips slowly stretched into a smile as he began to give a hardy laugh. He then proceeded to take a double take as he seemingly recognized the old man.
“Macready, Old man Macready?”
Macready tilted his head to his side. “Do I know you boy?”
“Joseph, Joseph Cassidy.”
Macready’s mouth slowly dropped as his eyes began to beam in joy and excitement. It was not long before he embraced the young man in a frail attempt at a bear hug.
“Little Joseph Cassidy, I haven’t seen you since you were a wee little lad. Now look at you, a fine strapping young man.”
“I’m still little it seems.” Joseph said with a smile “still a few good inches shorter than the average man. maybe 5ft and 4 in on a good day.”
“Ah could be worse though. You could have rickety old knees like mine.”
“Count your blessings I suppose. For example at least I didn’t break down in the middle of the wilderness.”
Macready nodded. “Well, I might be able to get your vehicle fixed, but you can forget reaching your destination by The Lord’s Day."
Joseph gave a huff in disappointment. “I was really hoping you wouldn’t say that, but nothing to be done I suppose.”
“Well, if you don’t want to miss the assembly, you could always go to the congregation here in Blackwater. The congregation could use some good old fashion truth of God.”
“Really, I’ll have to take you up on that offer. In the meantime, do you happen to a phone I could use?
Macready nodded. “in the back near the restroom, feel free to relive yourself if you need to.”
Once joseph took care of business he thanked Macready for his hospitality.
“I appreciate your generosity.” If I may ask where this congregation is?”
Macready pointed at the woods past Blackwater creek.
“into the woods past the creek through the crooked road, ultimately your best bet’s to walk. Your cars shot, it’s a hassle to bike, and horses get spooked even in the daylight. “
“I can see why.” Joseph said giving a thousand yard stare as he listen to the echoes of the chirping insects. His face grew pale as his lips began to quiver ever so slightly. The change in the young man’s face did not escape Macready’s notice.
“You haven’t taken a step in Blackwater creek sense you were nine years old.”
“I know,” Joseph acknowledged. “I don’t think I can ever forget the last day I stepped near the area.”
“Care to share what happened boy?” Macready asked. “I’ve always been curious as to what made you grow so pale every time you looked at those woods. .
“It’s a long story for a long night. Care to spend it?”
Macready gave a grin. “I’m an old man who doesn’t have much time to spend, but I’m always willing to lend an ear to a good old tale.”
Macready proceeded to pull up a couple of creaking chairs, offering joseph a pipe and a light. Joseph declined the offer however. “I’m not one to smoke, however if you could spare a lamp I’d be grateful.
Macready once again gave a grin. “Ah so it’s that kind of a story eh? Say no more.”
Macready went to the back of the store and grabbed a lamp. Joseph lit it and sat it down as Macready lit a pipe.
“When momma died of breast cancer, me and my brothers were sent to Blackwater with old grandma, God rest her soul. She may have raised a few wild boys, but she wasn’t willing to raise fools. Stay away from the old woods she’d tell us. You never know when an old boar may charge you or worse. Course we never took Grandma’s warnings seriously we were just a few dumb old boys.
One day my brothers and I decided to go frog hunting in the creek. We took a couple of Beebe guns and some old flashlights. I of course was the youngest and most cowardly of them all. My eldest as is tradition it seems among kin, would take the time to tease me and mock me for being afraid.
"You know about the ogress in the woods, don’t you? taller than a man in fact over six feet tall, her hair is red with the blood of slaughtered piglets, mangled and tangled like a lion’s mane, They say she’s so strong she can break the back of a wild boar, but no one knows what she truly looks like, for she wears a mask of stitched up pigskin, twisted to look like the facsimile of a wild boar, but worst of all, she’s said to snatch up little boys, small…terrified…little boys…like you.”
On cue the middle of us would jump from behind the bush, and as predictable as I was, I cried and wailed. My brothers however would not laugh for long, for suddenly from within the woods we heard what I can only describe as a wail or a shriek. We couldn’t tell if it was a boar or maybe a coyote. My eldest decided to investigate it. Armed with little with his rifle and a flashlight, he ventured in the woods. He couldn’t have been gone for more than a few minutes before suddenly there was a loud shriek. My brother emerged from the foliage. His skin was pale his eyes wide with feared. His legs carried him faster than any man or beast I had seen. A single word emerged from his lips, though it came out as little more than a shout or cry.
He simply said “Run!”
I don’t know why I didn’t follow my brothers that day. Perhaps I felt I had something to prove. Perhaps I wanted to one up my siblings, but for whatever reason, I turned the other way towards the sound with little more than my rifle and flashlight by my side. That’s when I saw her, or maybe perhaps that’s when she found me. I remember it as clear as day. She stood at a little over 6 feet tall. Broad at the shoulders, a bit narrow in the hip. Her hair was mangled in twisted like the main of a wild lion; its hue was as red as the color of blood. She reeked of death, her face emotionless, covered by a stitched up mask made of pig skin twisted in a facsimile of a boar.
She crouched down inches from my face before giving me a slight snarl. I ran, I ran until my legs and willpower could carry me no further. But still I heard her yells echoing in my ear. What little life I had flashed before my eyes and I wept. I wept for not listening to grandma, I wept for being such a foolhardy child. Surly the ogress would devour my flesh and throw my bones onto the bank as a warning for anyone who dared enter those woods at night. I found myself seeing the songs of my ancestors. It was a song my grandmother sang to me just as her mother sung to her.
As I was a-walking down by st. Peter's Hospital
I was a-walking down by there one day
What should I spy but a young bloodied yankee all wrapped in flannel
Skin cold as the clay
I asked him what ailed him
I asked him what failed him
I asked him the cause of his look of dismay
It’s all on account of dear pale maiden Lily
Tis she that has caused me to weep and lament
And had she but told me before she disowned me.
Had she but told me of it in time. I might not have gone and carried the musket
But now I'm a solider cut down in of my prime.
Get my dear brothers to carry my coffin.
get my dear sisters to sing me a song
And each of them make mine a closed iron casket
so they don't weep as they bear me along.
Don't muffle your drums and play your horns proudly.
Lay a quick march as you carry me along
And fire your bright muskets all over my coffin.
'Sayin' there goes an Unfortunate Lad to his home
For but a moment there was silence and I thought for a second that maybe the terror was over, but when I turned around I saw myself staring into feral eyes, not that of any ogress, but of that of a feral boar. I turned to run, but I tripped over a branch, squealing in pain as the beast clamped on my leg. I tried to fight, God knows I tried. But it seemed like the more I fought, the tighter the boar’s vice became. I prayed to the Lord and I cried.
“God, God please have mercy on this wicked child, if it be your will I know that you can save me from the jaws of the boar just as you saved Daniel from the Den of the great lions.”
I gave out one final squeal, closing my eyes and accepting whatever fate the Lord deemed fitting. Suddenly the vice grip of the boar began to loosen and it seemingly gave a loud squeal. I looked up and there was the ogress her arms wrapped around the boar. The Boar fought hard but the ogress fought harder, squeezing tighter and tighter till a loud snap echoed through the woods. The boar fell limp as the Ogress dropped it to the ground. She then slowly walked over to me before standing there motionless. I had no idea how to react. Had this ogress, this girl that looked as though she were spawned by the devil himself actually saved my life? Had God sent her to save me from the jaws of the boar?
Looking to my left I saw a single yellow dandelion a single ray of moonlight shined upon it as if the Lord himself were telling me to take it. Without so much as a word I plucked it and held it up to her, my palms shook and sweated fearful of how she might react. To my surprise however she simply knelt down and took it. I could almost swear I saw a smile form from her lips. The sound of my grandma’s voice rang through the woods as she called my name.
The Ogress ran deep into the underbrush dragging the corpse of the boar behind her with one hand while carrying the dandelion in the other not a second later my grandmother emerged armed with a shotgun, my brothers walked behind her as if they were baby ducks following their mothers. Through grit and tears I sobbed, telling grandma of what had happened. She however would not say a word. When I came of age, I was baptized and dedicated my life to the Lord, and I moved to the city to make my fortune. I haven’t stepped near Blackwater Creek since, fifteen years to the day in fact. The funny thing is. I know for a fact that this ogress was not a woman but a child.”
Joseph chuckled. “I know I sound mad, a mere child standing taller than a man and strong enough to drag a boar with one hand, but it’s true I could tell she must not have been much older than I was. I have to wonder if she was that tall and mighty at such a young age, how much more she would be once reaching full maturity. I would not blame you if you do not believe me. I can only give you my word”
Joseph gave another small chuckle only to find that Macready was not laughing. No in fact his face gave a look of wonder perhaps even horror. He quickly got out of his seat and turned the other way, muttering with excitement as if new life had been given to him.
“What is it?” Joseph asked following behind the old man.
“Every year since you left, every year without fail, in fact not even an hour before you came.”
“What do you mean?” Joseph asked.
Macready directed him to the house in which his grandmother had raised him. Joseph was stunned at what was before him, for on the back porch was the carcass of a boar and a pile of dandelions.
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