“Just a little further,” I urged him on.
We made our way carefully through the trees, sloshing through puddles of inky water.
Tiny bugs buzzed in my ears. Bigger ones bit at my neck. I swatted them away.
I stepped forward—onto a dry, grassy patch of ground. “Whoa!”
The patch started to move. Started to float across the black water.
I leaped off—and stumbled on a tree root. No—not a tree root. “Hey, Clark. Look at this!” I bent to get a better look.
“What is that?” Clark kneeled beside me and peered at the knobby form.
“It’s called a cypress knee,” I explained. “Mom told me about them. They grow near the cypress trees. They rise up from the roots.”
“How come Mom never tells me about these things?” he demanded.
“I guess she doesn’t want to scare you,” I replied.
“Yeah, right,” he muttered, pushing up his glasses. “Want to go back now?”
“We’re almost there. See?” I said, pointing to the tall tree. It stood in a small clearing just a few feet away.
Clark followed me into the clearing.
The air smelled sour here.
The night sounds of the swamp echoed in the darkness. We could hear low moans. Shrill cries. The moans and cries of swamp creatures, I thought. Hidden swamp creatures.
A shiver ran down my spine.
I moved deeper into the clearing. The tree with the high branches stood right before me.
Clark stumbled over a log. Stumbled into a black pool of mucky water.
“That’s it,” he groaned. “I’m outta here.”
Even in the dark, I could see the frightened expression on Clark’s face.
It was scary in the swamp. But Clark seemed so petrified that I started to giggle.
And then I heard the footsteps.
Clark heard them too.
Heavy, thudding footsteps across the black, misty swamp.
Charging closer.
Headed straight for us.
“Come on!” Clark cried, yanking on my arm. “Time to go!”
But I didn’t move. I couldn’t move.
Now I could hear the creature’s breathing. Heavy, rasping breaths. Nearer. Nearer.
It came springing out. From behind the gray-bearded tree limbs.
A tall black form. A huge swamp creature. Loping toward us. Darker than the black swamp mud—with glowing red eyes.
“Charley—! What are you doing down there?” Mom cried, marching into the clearing. “I thought you kids were watching him.”
Charley?
I’d forgotten all about Charley.
Charley was the swamp monster.
“I’ve been looking all over for you,” Mom snapped angrily. “Didn’t we tell you to stay by the car? Dad and I have been searching everywhere.”
“Sorry, Mom,” I apologized. I couldn’t say any more. Charley leaped on me and knocked me down—into the mud.
“Off! Charley! Off!” I shouted. But he planted his huge paws on my shoulders and licked my face.
I was covered in mud. Totally covered.
