Chapter 16: Pappy

A mist, gentle, innocent, and vaguely transparent lofted over the calm waters. It was night. A consistent chirp of crickets broke the silence. A cloud of seemingly endless mosquitoes darted from one corner of the bayou to the other, tagging unsuspecting creatures. A rat stood atop a floating log. A bird flew low to evaluate the water. Something floated in the distance. And Chase lay silent on his back at the base of a tree. The tree was ancient, perhaps 300 years, maybe longer. The roots were broadcast from the base outward a dozen feet in every direction. Chase found a low spot among the roots. His location was high enough to remain out of the water, yet low enough to avoid detection. His eyes, along with the strength in his body fazed in and out. He didn’t know how long he’d been lingering among the roots. He did know that days had passed. He did know that he’d nearly died. And he knew that there was every bit of a possibility that he still would die.

The name Pappy echoed in his mind those days. For the first hours he didn’t know who Pappy was. But then, as the great gator swam past, his eyes the only conspicuous movement he caused, the memory came back.

Chase had been left for Pappy. Chase was alive, and when Pappy found him the first grab came at his right arm. The gator’s worn teeth weren’t the precision tools that Chase had expected. Instead they crushed down on him engulfing Chase’s entire arm and chest. The gator then dragged Chase under the water. If not for a frantic breath just before being submerged Chase would have drowned that first time. In truth, he wasn’t sure that he hadn’t been. The gator then rolled over and over again, slamming Chase on the shallow muddy ground beneath the water line. Chase held his breath. He held hope. And it worked. The gator brought Chase’s body above water for a fraction of a second.

A spotlight slammed down on him. So much light, so fast burned his eyes. But it wasn’t Chase that the light was pointed at. The light was directly on Pappy. Then a rifle shot. And another. Laughter, and a “Todd me another beer.” The bullets barely dented Pappy. Still, the ancient creature was pissed. Pappy forgot about Chase. Let him go. And he darted toward the flat fishing boat. The fishermen didn’t know what was happening but their regret was ominous. The thrashing and screaming were horrifying to listen to. Chase wasted no time. He swam as best he could. The pain in his ribs meant they were likely broken. His arm though, they were both fine. And he used them to swim to where he now lay. Pappy, likely full from his meal of fishermen, never came back.

The fishing boat now rested across from Chase some thirty feet. And for as long as he’d been there all he could question was, can I make it to the boat before Pappy returns?

Now, he had no choice. His stomach had long since stopped growling. He hadn’t had food, nor water for what he suspected was days. His skin was plucked by so many mosquitoes he was exhausted from trying to slap them. And without water he’d started cramping.

Chase could move. The pain in his abdomen still existed, but his vertigo overcame any other function he was dispelling. Including logic. Counting down from three he made his first movement toward the water. All he would need to do was slide forward until gravity pulled him into the water. Then he could float in the direction of the boat hopefully with the strength to climb in when he got there.

An hour later his body slipped off of the roots and into the water creating a splash. A splash in the bayou might as well be a megaphone announcing his entrance. The bayou was alive. Chirps, cackling, moans, pops, and the occasional growl was not far off. But, aside from the mosquitoes hovering on and around his head, nothing else disturbed him. Chase could feel the warmth of the water, like a forgotten pool. What, of his clothes that had not been drenched in his own filth and sweat were now devoured by the rancid thickness of the bayou.

His feet touched the soft bottom of the swamp. With one step he slipped on a protruding tree root. Then another step he did the same. In time and with each gentle movement he was able to make his way forward, pulling forth strength he hadn’t previously had. His exhaustion was replaced by determination. A piercing pain stunned his head. Vertigo tilted him and if not for the water providing boyancy he would have toppled. In time he reached the boat lodged against another tree directly across from where he started. Using the thick tree roots he was able to step up and collapse into the boat.

He woke later. Eyes open enough to take in a glimpse of light piercing the canopy above.

Go to her… a voice whispered. Chase spun around, tilting the boat. She needs you… the voice came again. His head felt broken, cracked and still disheveled. As the voice turned from a whisper to a wispy breath of air, Chase closed his eyes and could feel the soft, gentle lips of a woman deftly placed upon his own. He allowed the kiss to play upon his tongue. She smelled sweet like vanilla and lavender. The taste filled his mouth as a sweet perfume to his senses. He opened his mouth and the cloud of mist surrounded him. The image of a woman ebbed in and out of the ethereal cloud. Then it moved away until her body hovered over the water. She stood in full length ahead of him. Her clothing draped from her shoulders, falling gently and balancing on the tips of her nipples yet revealing little. Go to her… She said. And then she was gone.

Pappy drifted alongside the boat as if providing an homage to the evaporating spirit.