The Creature of Black Water Lake (2 page)

“Couldn’t get much better.” Ryan stepped out onto the sandy shore and skipped a rock across the lake’s smooth surface.

He dipped his hand in the water and found
it a little colder than he’d expected. Still, a quick swim would be fun. He sat down and began pulling off his tennis shoes.

“Wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Ryan spun around. Standing behind him was a tall redheaded girl with her arms folded.

“H-Hi,” Ryan began. “I was just—”

The girl pointed to a sign on the shore. “Can’t you read?”

Ryan hadn’t noticed the small weather-beaten sign:

“I guess I missed that.”

The girl sat down beside Ryan in the dirt. “I’m Rita Brown. You’re living in our grandpa’s old cabin.”

Ryan relaxed and slipped his shoes back on. “I’m Ryan Swanner. I was just gonna see what the water was like. Do you swim?”

“Used to,” Rita said, “until that diver got himself drowned last week. They’re still looking for his body. Ma says the owners of the
lodge won’t allow any swimming till they find him. She doesn’t believe there’s a monster, but my granddaddy did. He said he saw it once and told my ma all about it. It looks just like the Loch Ness Monster in Scotland, only bigger, and it waits out there for anybody stupid enough to go down too far.”

“Do
you
think there’s a monster?”

“Naw. It’s a story the locals made up years ago to draw tourists.” Rita tossed a stick into the water. “Some places have ghosts. Black Water has a monster.”

Ryan studied the lake with a frown. “If you don’t go out in the water, what do you do around here for fun?”

Rita jumped up. “Who says I don’t go out there? Come with me.”

Ryan followed Rita down the shore to a shallow inlet. Resting in a cluster of weeds was a beat-up rectangular wooden raft with a long rope anchoring it to a tree.

“We need to do some work on it before we can take it out again,” Rita said. “It leaks ’cause some of the boards are broken and loose. But when it works, the fishing’s better out from shore a ways.”

“Fishing?” Ryan raised one eyebrow. “What do you catch?”

“Everything. One time I caught a catfish that was so big, Ma had a hard time cooking it. Course that was a year or so ago. The big ones seem to have just about disappeared.”

Behind them something slapped the top of the lake hard. The sound echoed across the water.

“What was that?” Ryan turned and pointed to the disappearing ripples.

“It was probably one of those big catfish I was talking about.” Rita moved to the edge of the water. “We’ll catch him just as soon as we get this raft in shape.”

“Whatever it was, it sure left some big ripples in the water,” Ryan said. “They’re as big around as your grandfather’s cabin.”

Rita smiled at him. “Are you
scared
?” she asked teasingly.

Ryan looked her in the eye. “No way.”

Rita cocked her head. “Well, don’t let the ghost stories get to you. Tell you what. If you help me work on the raft, we’ll go out fishing on it. What do you say?”

“Let’s get started.”

Two anxious yellow eyes searched back and forth continuously. The Ancient One was hungry all the time now. The food supply was dwindling and anything large or small that dared disturb the calm waters was considered a meal
.

It remembered a time when there was no need to hunt, no need to gobble down the small schools of fish near the shore, and no need to venture any farther than the mouth of the caves. But even as it remembered, its empty stomach yearned to be satisfied
.

Wait. There was something. A tiny ratlike creature dangled in the water just above it
.

The Ancient One rose to the top
.

“Remember to come down to the lodge for lunch. It’s only about a thirty-minute walk from here to the upper end of the lake. I’d like to show you off to the staff.” Ryan’s mother started the engine of the old car and waved as she pulled out of the drive.

Ryan waved back and then raced around the cabin and up the hill. On the other side of the hill was the large two-story yellow house where the Browns lived.

He trotted down the path and hopped up
onto the porch. There was no doorbell so he knocked lightly and waited.

The door opened a few inches. A small, serious-looking little girl with short red hair stood there staring at him. “You’re the new boy.”

“Yeah, I guess I am. Is your sister home?”

“Who is it, Annie?” Rita came to the door. “Oh, hi, Ryan. Ready to work?”

“What exactly are you two going to do today?” Mrs. Brown put her hand on her daughter’s shoulder.

Ryan began, “We’re going down to the lake and fix—”

“Fish,” Rita interrupted. “We’re just going to fish and maybe do some other stuff.”

“Just make sure the
other
stuff doesn’t include swimming,” Mrs. Brown said. “I know there’s no monster in that lake, but I don’t want you going back in until they find that diver.”

“Right, Ma. Don’t worry about a thing.” Rita stepped out onto the porch and pulled the door shut. She motioned for Ryan to follow her around the back of the house.

“Whew. That was close.” Rita waited for Ryan to catch up. “I forgot to mention that Ma doesn’t know anything about the raft. I figured we were really doing her a favor by not telling her. You know, one less thing to worry about.”

“Got it.” Ryan followed Rita to an old shed behind the house.

Rita rummaged around on the dusty shelves until she found some rope, a couple of old oars, a can of black pitch, and several long flat boards. She handed Ryan some of the supplies and led the way down the path to the lake.

The raft was still in the weeds where they’d left it the day before. Together they hauled it up onto the shore.

“See, the middle boards are cracked and some of the rope is coming loose on that end.” Rita pointed to the right side. “I figure we’ll replace the boards, make sure it’s all good and tight, then use some of this pitch to coat the bottom. She’ll be unsinkable.”

Ryan knelt and began working the cracked boards loose. Rita took out her pocketknife and cut a piece off the long coil of rope.

When the first board was out, Rita handed Ryan a replacement and helped him secure it to the others. They checked each board carefully and inspected each piece of rope for tightness and signs of rotting or fraying.

It was almost noon before they started applying the pitch. Rita had brought only one brush so they took turns spreading the pitch on the bottom of the raft and then trying to smooth it across the boards.

The bushes near the path to the Browns’ house rustled and Annie stepped out. She walked up to the raft and looked it over. “You shouldn’t go out on the water. The
thing
will get you.”

Rita was stooped over holding the pitch brush. She wiped the sweat off her forehead. “Go away, Annie. We’re busy here.”

Annie stared out into the lake. “I’ve seen it. It ate my dog.”

“That’s nice. Now go play.”

“Ma has lunch ready. She says you guys better hurry or she’ll feed it to the pigs.” Annie turned and marched back into the trees.

Ryan watched her go. “What does she mean—she’s seen it?”

“Don’t pay any attention to Annie. She’s always saying stuff like that. One time she came down here by herself looking for her puppy. She never found it. So now she tells everybody that the monster jumped out of the water and dragged her dog in.” Rita shook her head and sighed. “Kids. So, do you want to come over for lunch?”

Ryan looked at his watch. “I can’t. My mom’s expecting me. How do I get to the lodge from here?”

“That way.” Rita pointed down the shore. “Just follow the lake. You can’t get lost. Hey, if you’re not doing anything, come over later. We’ll get this finished up so we can take it out first thing tomorrow.”

“Okay—I’ll be back,” Ryan said, doing his best Schwarzenegger imitation.

Rita laughed and waved. “See ya, Arnold.”

Ryan passed the dock and climbed the wooden steps to the restaurant. The Cove was made of hand-hewn logs and stone, like a giant cabin. It stood on the edge of the lake and the dark water reflected off the large plate glass windows in front.

Several guests were eating as Ryan made his way across the dining room. His mother was standing by a rock fireplace talking to one of the waiters when she noticed him.

“Hi, kiddo. Nice of you to make it.” She
looked down at the toe of his shoe, which was covered with tar. “What in the world …?”

“It’s tar. Rita Brown was working on a project and I was helping her. I guess I kinda made a mess. I’ll see if I can get it off later.”

“Try paint thinner. And if that doesn’t work maybe kerosene.” A sandy-haired waiter stuck out his hand. “I’m Larry Carlson.”

“Larry is a college student,” Mrs. Swanner explained. “He works here part-time in the summer.”

Ryan shook Larry’s hand. “I didn’t know there was a college around here.”

The young man smiled. “There isn’t. I sort of migrate here from California every year. Some of the classes you have to take for marine biology can fry your brain if you’re not careful. I come down here to unwind more than anything else.”

“Larry, why don’t you find Ryan a nice out-of-the-way table, and I’ll go talk the cook into making him something to eat.”

“I’m in kind of a hurry, Mom. Rita and I are trying to get an old raft in shape to take fishing tomorrow.”

“Sounds like fun, but you have to eat. Hang
on—I’ll wrap something up for you.” She headed for the kitchen.

“I hope your luck is better than mine has been,” Larry said. “The fishing around here has been pretty bad lately.”

“Maybe it’s because of the monster,” Ryan said with a laugh.

“That’s what the old-timers are blaming it on. But I think it’s the plant life. I’ve been doing some tests in different areas on the bottom—”

“You’ve been to the bottom?” Ryan couldn’t believe it. “Didn’t you hear about that other diver?”

“Oh, sure. But accidents happen. To tell you the truth, I don’t really have much faith in the monster legend. It’s a nice story, but not too many prehistoric creatures are still alive after two hundred and fifty million years. And if they were, I doubt they’d be living at the bottom of a lake.”

“Really? Well, I guess worrying about a monster is the last way I wanted to spend my summer,” Ryan said.

“Let me know if you catch anything tomorrow.” Larry took out his order pad. “I guess I
better get back to work before your mom fires me. It was nice meeting you, Ryan.”

“You too.”

“Here you go.” Ryan’s mother came out of the kitchen with a brown bag. “Well, what do you think of the restaurant?”

“It’s great! Larry seems real nice, too.”

“He is. In fact, the whole staff is. And I’m glad things are working out for you, too. Bring Rita down sometime and have lunch on me.”

As Ryan left the restaurant, he thought over what Larry had told him. Larry sure seemed to know what he was talking about.

But what kind of lake is completely fishless?
thought Ryan.

The black water was murky. Billowy clouds of soil hung in the water because of the recent disturbance in the area
.

The cold eyes below the surface were used to these conditions. The Ancient One could still easily spot its prey hanging from the tree branch overhead. The prey was making loud noises and seemed to be unaware of the Ancient One’s presence
.

Quietly it waited. Hoping. Perhaps the animal would slip, or the tree limb would break. The expectation made the Ancient One quiver in anticipation. Juices released from somewhere
deep inside its body made their way to its mouth
.

A noise distracted it. Another, smaller animal was thrashing about in the water a few yards away. The long neck of the Ancient One flexed and its large head snaked forward. Curved teeth fastened like a vise and it was over. The animal struggled for less than a second; then it was swiftly and effortlessly dragged to the bottom
.