Beware the River

by Kitty Margo

  My head fell back on the swing as I thought back over all that had happened. I must have imagined it all. I mean paintings don’t really come to life. Do they? Well, they did in cartoons and horror movies, but this was real life… and I had an overactive imagination to be sure.

  But, there was a bucket, with about a dozen minnows and a crawfish in it that I had to take down to the river and release, hid at the back of the house in the shade. That wasn’t my imagination. My eyes were still bloodshot and burning. That wasn’t my imagination. And I had a goose egg the size of a golf ball on my forehead. That certainly wasn’t my imagination.

  Still, it had all seemed so real. Even Gram had felt something strange about the painting. Oh well, the painting was safely tucked away in the attic now. It couldn’t possibly cause any problems from up there.

  Could it?

  Chapter 5

  Evidently, the answer to that question was a resounding “Yep, sure can!” A sudden shiver raced down my spine as I watched the white fluffy clouds, which had appeared so calm seconds earlier, being rapidly shoved aside by an angry dark mass rolling across the sky. By rolling, I mean the clouds seemed to be tumbling over each other in a determined effort to get where they were going. How could the clouds be moving so fast without a strong wind to push them?

  From the looks of the sky, the weatherman had actually made an accurate forecast for once. We were in for a severe storm and the closer it got, the blacker and more threatening the clouds became. It would soon be as dark as midnight. I had to warn Gram. Yet, I was so amazed by what was happening in the sky above me that I stopped after only a few steps and stood frozen in my tracks. What was going on?

  The black clouds moved against the wind and swirled around to form a giant dark circle around Gram’s house. It felt like a black hole had dropped down from outer space and we were trapped inside with no way out.

  As impossible as it sounds, Gram’s house was completely surrounded by a rotating mass of pitch-black clouds. I couldn’t see anything outside the circle of clouds. Not even a pinpoint of light filtered through. Then I had the most terrifying thought of all! Was there anything outside the circle of clouds? Had the strange dark mass destroyed all mankind? Were these the end times Gram was always rambling on about?

  The circle seemed to be getting smaller, closing in on us, when some of the thick black clouds left the outside circle and began to gather in the center. Then all of a sudden the clouds began to swirl in a wild, erratic pattern.

  A gentle breeze began rustling the leaves in the top of the pecan trees, then the wind began to whistle like a teakettle until it was almost deafening and the clouds in the center were twisting and turning so fast it made me dizzy to watch. Then it hit me. A tornado! We must be in the center of a tornado like that poor cow in the movie Twister. How else could the clouds shift around so crazily and yet remain in a complete circle against what felt like hurricane force winds?

  The wind was spinning the clouds in the center now, and if my guess was correct, a giant funnel cloud would snake down to the ground any minute. And we would be directly in its path, sucked up into the swirling vortex! And in the unlikely event that we somehow survived that catastrophe, we’d be dropped on our heads God only knows where. Gram would never survive it. I had to get her to the safety of the basement!

  I was running fast enough to pass Apollo Ohno on his speed skates and my heart was pounding against my chest like a jackhammer. At the exact moment I reached for the screen door handle, the howling wind calmed, the mad swirling stopped, and the clouds were perfectly still. Not even the slightest breeze stirred the leaves in the four huge pecan trees in the back yard, and it was quiet. Too quiet!

  I heard a woodpecker’s rat a tat tat as he searched for his evening meal in the tree above me. Frogs croaked from the dried up pond behind the house. Bumblebees noisily buzzed around the tomato plants at the back door. Sparrows flew in and out of Gram’s hanging baskets where two had made nests and were now raising babies. Hummingbirds sipped red sugar water from the feeders hanging from several tree limbs. Whatever was happening had stopped. Thank God!

  I slowly released the breath I had been holding and opened the screen door. Without even thinking, I took one last nervous glance at the sky. Small puffs of clouds were beginning to shoot out from the center clouds at random angles. It was like an art lesson in the sky. Like the hand of a master artist was directing the clouds. It was absolutely amazing to watch.

  Some of the clouds formed straight lines and some jutted out from the bottom to form a curvy line. It almost looked like the clouds were forming legs and a tail. Then another cloud swirled around to the top and rounded to form a… furry …back. With a hump!

  “No freaking way!”

  It was the buffalo! And a few of his friends!

  Maybe eating an entire bag of Hershey’s Kisses before bed last night was causing me hallucinate. One of these days I would learn to heed my mother’s warnings about such things as scarfing down entire bags of Reese’s Cups and Kisses before bedtime. It had to be either that, or I was still asleep and having a seriously wicked dream.

  Either way, I was paralyzed with fear as I watched the head take shape, complete with curved horns. Then all was still. The buffalo from the painting filled the sky above me with his enormous body. His furry robe fluttered in the gentle breeze that now blew across the sky. He tossed his great head and pawed at the fluffy clouds beneath his hooves, scattering them across the heavens. It was, without a doubt, the most frightening and awesome spectacle I had witnessed in all my thirteen years of life on this planet!

  I was convinced that the hideous creature meant to kill me! I didn’t have a single doubt about that now. I mean, all things considered, it was pretty obvious that if nothing else he intended to scare me to death. But why me! Out of all the kids in the world why had the evil beast chosen to torment me?

  I had never harmed a buffalo in my life. Heck, I had never even been up close and personal with one. What could I have done to turn this beast against me? I’d have to consider that question later, for as I watched in shocked disbelief, a hole opened up in the cloud where his eye should be and bright sunlight flooded my face with brilliance. That did it! I couldn’t take anymore!

  All I will say is that I completely lost it and went running across the yard screaming like…well…a girl… to Gram that a buffalo was trying to kill me. She couldn’t hear me above the rising wind. But I needed a witness to this! Who would ever believe something so bizarre was actually happening to me? I didn’t believe it and I was living it!

  Then the pistons in my brain began firing once again and I realized that I could take a picture with my phone. Where was it? Man, it could be anywhere! No, I remembered leaving it on the kitchen table earlier. But before I could place one foot in front of the other the buffalo opened his mouth and rolling thunder that sounded like great herds of buffalo stampeding across the sky shook the ground under my feet and rattled the windows in the house. I glanced toward the porch to see Gram’s potted pansies bouncing merrily across the floor.

  The sound in the sky was frightening beyond belief. It sounded like several hundred claps of thunder and a few thousand exploding sticks of dynamite all rolled into one. And then, even before the roar from the thunder had begun to fade, a streak of jagged lightening shot out from the vicinity of the buffalo’s behind and set my numb feet in motion.

  I ran inside to get my phone, all the while shrieking to the top of my lungs for Gram to come outside and witness the buffalo. She met me in the kitchen, where I grabbed my phone with one hand and her hand with the other, and led her outside.

  We were too late. All that remained of the buffalo was one leg and the tail. The rest of the buffalo cloud had dissipated along with the wall of clouds surrounding the house. Everything was back to normal. I should have remembered the ghost code of ethics. For some strange reason, the buffalo was haunting me and only me. At that moment another bolt of lightening shot down from th
e one remaining cloud and sent us scurrying to the safety of the basement.

  We sat as quiet as church mice as I waited for my nerves to calm and my heart to stop crashing against my chest. Man, I must have one strong ticker for it to still beat after all it had been through today. A lesser man might have keeled over by now. So I occasionally had a minor accident. So what? I would like to see any other thirteen year old, or sixteen year old for that matter, survive what I had today without having at least one unfortunate mishap.

  Gram and I didn’t say a word for hours. Talking would have been useless since the storm was now directly overhead and pounding the old house with its fury. Shingles were torn from the roof and sent flying across the yard. Several shutters were blown loose and flapped noisily against the house. I had heard that tornados sound like a freight train going over your house. This storm sounded like an entire Amtrak station had landed on the roof.

  I looked out the basement door once and watched the lawn furniture go bouncing across the yard and hummingbird feeders become airborne. I didn’t want to see any more. I went to the couch, tucked an afghan snugly around my neck, and laid my head on Gram’s lap as the storm raged around us. I wondered how she could sleep through all the noise, but she was snoring like a lumberjack as I peered around the room looking for any sign of what horror was to come.

  The house was pounded with a fierce downpour of much-needed rain and I heard what sounded like basketball-sized hail beating on the roof. The wind didn’t let up as it screamed around the eaves and shook the old house down to its very foundation. The windows rattled until I was sure they would be sucked from their frames. As the wind rushed down the chimney, I pulled the afghan over my head terrified that I would see the buffalo’s face take shape in the fireplace ashes.

  I was positive that this was more than just your typical summer storm. I mean how often do you see a buffalo floating around in the clouds? Deep down I knew the buffalo was responsible for the storms severity, but I was still trying to figure out what I could have done to make a buffalo, a ghost buffalo no doubt, so angry at me. I didn’t have a clue. Although, I was 100% convinced that he intended to blow the house away, with us in it.

  I lay there for the longest time wondering if there would even be a house left when we went back upstairs. Grandma and Grandpa had a basement too, so I wasn’t really worried about them and I knew Mom would be safe at the hospital. Then I thought of the baby birds in the hanging basket on the porch. Poor things. I hoped they survived the storm.

  When the storm was no more than distant thunder I woke Gram and turned on the TV to see if today’s weird events had been local or if the entire world had been affected. WSOC in Charlotte wasn’t showing footage of storm damage or putting the Doppler Radar on the screen, or broadcasting the number of power outages in the area as I expected. However, there was much excitement at the TV station as the anchors chatted about the slow, steady rain that was so desperately needed. What?

  Slow, steady rain? Were they perhaps referring to the torrential downpour? Everyone was thrilled that the drought was finally over.

  This meant the ponds and lakes would fill back up. Gram could ease up on fears of her well going dry, and I could stop watering her plants with bath water. Wait a minute! The news anchor failed to even mention the weird buffalo cloud. I guess that display had been for my eyes only. Although, I was surprised they didn’t show footage of the wind damage from what I was sure were hurricane force winds.

  “Let’s go to bed, BJ.” Gram mumbled sleepily. “It’s been a long day hasn’t it?”

  “Yep, Gram. It sure has.” She didn’t know the half of it. I held up my cheek as she bent over to kiss me goodnight.

  “As always, the Good Lord has answered my prayers. He might not answer them exactly when we think they should be answered, but if we are faithful, he will eventually send us our miracle.” Then she kissed me and left me in the basement to stare after her. Alone!

  Chapter 6

  Huh! Imagine that! After racing upstairs to check on the baby birds I found that not only were the flower baskets still hanging, every bright pastel bloom was still in place! The wind hadn’t broken a single stem from any of the hanging baskets! How was that possible when it had picked up heavy metal lawn furniture and sent it skipping across the lawn like plastic toys?

  The porch light didn’t shine past the porch, but I wondered if trees were uprooted, barns had been destroyed, or even homes. I had attempted to call Mom and my grandparent’s to see if they had any wind damage, but my phone didn’t have a signal and Gram’s landline was out. The wind must have blown a tree across a phone line. Oh well, I would just have to wait until the morning sun came up and see for myself.

  I checked all the doors and went to my room still wondering how the hanging baskets had survived the hammering rain and ferocious wind unharmed. One of my teachers had used the word “conundrum” at least once a day in the seventh grade. I guess this would qualify as one.

  I closed all the blinds, looked in the closet, looked behind the shower curtain, and checked under the bed for anything that… shouldn’t be there. Nothing. Good. Then I lay in bed wide awake and staring at the ceiling with the overhead light and my lamp on and MTV blasting.

  I knew Gram removed her hearing aid when she went to bed and couldn’t hear a lick. This suddenly bothered me, when it never had before. I mean, if I commenced to screaming bloody murder in the middle of the night who would hear me and come running? Not a living soul!

  As I stared at the ceiling, another thought caused me to break out in a cold sweat. It suddenly dawned on me that only a couple of 2 x 4’s, a few ceiling tiles, and some insulation separated me from the painted buffalo. His glowing, red eyes probably had x-ray vision, and his penetrating gaze was, most likely, glued on me at this very minute, even as he considered new and entertaining ways to torment me!

  I jerked the covers over my head and grabbed my phone glad to see it had a signal again. I had to talk to someone about this since I knew it would be a long time before my eyes would even think about closing for the night. I called my two best buds, Billy (My name is Billy Joe and his is Billy Ray, so to cut down on confusion everyone calls me BJ and him Billy) and James, and filled them in on my horrifying first encounter with the paranormal.

  * * * * *

  James sounded almost as terrified as I had been. He believes strongly in the supernatural. “What does the buffalo (hiccup) want, BJ?” he asked, so excited he began to hiccup. Whenever James gets excited or stressed he gets a terrible case of hiccups. It’s been a life long problem with him.

  At any rate, that was a dumb question even for James. “How in the heck should I know what he wants? You tell me. You’re supposed to be the paranormal expert. Better still, why don’t you call one of those psychic hotlines? Maybe they can tell you what he wants, because I sure can’t.”

  “Well, it’s obvious the apparition (hiccup) has a reason for revealing himself to you. Ghosts just (hiccup) don’t walk around showing themselves to us (hiccup) humans as a general rule. And they are all around (hiccup) us you know?” Even though James had read every book he could find on the supernatural, he was still terrified of his own shadow. “If you could see all the (hiccup) spirits that are standing beside your bed at this very (hiccup) minute you would probably wet your pants.”

  “James, you idiot!” How did he know? Who told him about my pants? “Why did you have to tell me that?”

  Ignoring my question he asked one of his own. “BJ, has anyone (hiccup) died in your family recently?”

  I was beginning to get irritated with his ridiculous questions. “James, don’t you think if someone had died in my family recently you would have heard about it? Or at the very least seen the wreath on the door or the funeral signs along the road? I mean, for crying out loud you live across the street!”

  “Then why is a (hiccup) ghost choosing to haunt you of all people?” he continued, ignoring my sarcasm. “There has to be a reason. No on
e in your family has died recently, so a family member isn’t coming to you for help with unfinished business. (hiccup) You are beyond terrified of Ouija Boards, so I know you haven’t been calling up any restless spirits. I have never once known you to participate in a (hiccup) séance. Honestly, I can’t figure it out.”

  “It’s a conundrum. And trust me I don’t have the foggiest idea of what his reasons are. Or why he is here. Or why out of the approximately two billion kids on the planet he has chosen to haunt me. And I really don’t care. I just want to be left alone!”

  “Well, good luck with that. I’m afraid you’re (hiccup) going to need it.”

  “What the heck does that mean?” I didn’t need luck. It was over. Nothing else was going to happen. In the morning, I was going home and a herd of stampeding wildebeests couldn’t force me to spend another night in this haunted mansion until that painting had been donated to the Stanly County Museum.

  “Oh nothing. Only from what I have read, (hiccup) (hiccup) and you know how much reading I have done (hiccup) on the subject, spirits can be very persistent. They (hiccup) don’t usually depart the earth until they (hiccup) have completed their assigned mission.”

  “That’s just great, James. Thanks so much for sharing all these wonderful little tidbits of supernatural information with me. It makes me feel so much better.” I hung up the phone. Just what I needed! A dead buffalo with a mission.

  Now Billy was another story entirely. I had known him since kindergarten and he wasn’t afraid of anything. He thought that anyone who got scared over anything as silly as an imaginary ghost needed a brain transplant.

  He was absolutely convinced that there were no such things as ghosts. No more than there were UFO’s, vampires, witches, zombies, fairies, werewolves or any other “supernatural hogwash” as he called it. He seemed to find my tortured tale extremely funny.