Deep Lies the Murky Floor - A Short Story, Page 2
Casey Criswell
prepared to unleash his fury upon Simon. He stumbled when an unexpected phrase tumbled meekly from the lips of his target.
“All right. I?l go.
Stopping briefly to tread water, Simon glanced back towards the beach to judge the distance he had covered; what felt like miles turned out to be merely a few yards. The crowd that had gathered to watch his attempt at swimming across the pond was growing as word of his swim traveled along the beach.
He pushed his arms in a slow back and forth motion to keep himself afloat; he felt downwards into the dark water with his toe to judge his depth. Feeling nothing but a growing cold far below him and the tickle of seaweed rising up from the muddy lakebed, he felt slightly reassured knowing that the lakebed was close by. With a sigh he turned and began to swim once again.
To keep his fears in check, Simon carried on a dialogue with himself as he made his way towards the center of the pond. ?ou can do thisand ?lmost halfwaywas heard as he coaxed himself along. Peering to the shoreline he spied a group of children making their way around the pond to wait for him on the far side. It was quite an accomplishment to swim across the pond and congratulations were in order when one climbed out onto the grassy shore.
As he swam, a panic arose in Simon. He wasn? positive but it felt as though a slimy and spiny something had brushed against his outstretched leg. Stopping once again to tread water, he frantically scanned the water around him in an attempt to see into the depths. Unable to spy anything beyond the muddy surface he probed once again with his feet to locate the culprit; what he discovered was the growing cold about him and the lack of weeds tickling his feet. He was on his own from this point forward; he was in the middle of the pond.
Continuing on his swim, Simon pondered the consequences of giving in to Billy? pressures. Once completed he no longer would have to worry about the ridicule of not tackling the swim. He would be a brother with all who accomplished the task, surely this would bring along a sense of new friends. Also, Suzie would see him as a man, a man who both made the swim across Price? Pond and one who stood up to Billy Connolly. Surely this factor would outweigh his newfound brotherhood and friends. Regardless of the positives, his nerves remained on high alert as he neared the center of the pond.
With a start Simon felt the clammy caress across his leg return. As a dog licks one? hand in a friendly greeting, Simon felt a similar sensation across the arch of his foot.
As sudden as its arrival, the presence went away once more. Not pausing this time to locate the source of torment, Simon poured his strength into his breaststroke in an effort to speed his swim across the lake. Muscles burning, the fear pushed him on causing his breath to come in ragged gasps.
Fear began to sink its way into his chest with icy fingers as his asthma began to rear its ugly head. Brought on by exertion and fear, he began to wheeze as he gasped for breath. His stroke faltered as he began to flail in panicked motions. His splashing drew the attention of the kids standing on the far shore. ?ey, is he having problems?one was heard to ask. Fighting against the pull of the murky blackness below as well as the tightening of his chest, Simon could make out the children waving at him. The notion that he was at the halfway point was a slight relief to his current struggle.
Pausing in his fight to stay afloat Simon grew aware of something massive looming beneath his feet. There was neither the caress of slime nor the prickling of spines as in earlier encounters, just the passage of something far larger than he was far below him. Regardless of it being fact or imagination, it caused Simon? panic to rise along with the burning of his clenched chest.
Teetering upon giving up, Simon considered throwing in the towel. Surely he would face ridicule and the loss of affection from that special girl, yet he saw no other way to avoid the conclusion. His fear was overtaking him and his breath was coming shorter. He needed to call for help; facing the group of boys on the far side of the pond, he began to wave his arms and attempted yell.
“Hey, what? he yelling?one of the children asked?
“Don? know, he? too far outwas the reply.
Seeing that no one was hearing his call for help, Simon reluctantly decided to finish his swim across the pond. Despite what anybody thought of him, death was no way to end his summer vacation, a fact that Simon was acutely aware of. Resuming once more he inched ever closer to his destination.
Feet kicking furiously, Simon traveled only a few feet before he felt his toes kick against something solid. Fear was his initial reaction as the recollection of his unseen visitor from moments ago was fresh upon his memory. Continuing to kick past this newfound obstacle, he probed below him as he swam over. The feeling beneath his fingers was firm and unyielding and covered with fine gritty sand. Testing his weight against the apparent sandbar, Simon let his arms cease their panicked beating and stood tentatively upon the hidden island. Head and shoulders rising above the surface, relief poured throughout his body as he sucked in a long deep breath to ease his sore lungs. Simon had discovered a sand bar in the middle of the pond giving him a brief respite in the face of failure.
Relieved in the chance to rest his tired arms, Simon smiled broadly. He was going to make it across the pod after all. Gazing at the children huddled on the shore, he waved at them enthusiastically knowing that he found his break.
“How? he doing that?The child voicing the question looked puzzled as he watched Simon grinning madly in the center of the pond.
“I don? remember a sand bar out there when I went across.This second child showed an equally puzzled look as Simon stood magically out of the water.
Confusion and surprise was a mixture upon the faces of the young boys watching Simons swim. Most stood with their arms limp to their sides or their hands cocked above their eyes to shade them from the sun. Simon was confused at their lack of excitement at his find in the center of Price? Pond but shrugged it off; he was going to save his fate yet.
As he stood watching Simon noticed that the group awaiting him upon the shore was moving away. They stood stock still along the lapping edges of the shore, yet they were growing farther away at a creeping pace. This discovery sinking into his young brain, he noticed that they had made this connection as well; many of the kids were beginning to point excitedly in his direction.
He muddled through the idea that his sandbar was in fact moving. Gazing towards his feet he tried to see the shelf of land below him. The water, which was at his knees when he first stood up, was now around the waist of his trunks. He was sinking as well as moving. Watching the water level creep upwards along the length of his body, he felt a sudden shift below him. Simon threw his arms above his head in an attempt to balance himself as his fear began to rise once more; sandbars were not mean to move as far as Simon knew.
Searing pain ignited the calf of his left leg, the suddenness causing the boy to gasp. From knee to ankle he could feel a firm tendril wrapped tightly, soft and clammy at first touch. Soon thereafter his leg began to twinge much like the onset of poison ivy. Intense itching then followed the burn, both progressing upwards along his leg.
Simon let out a scream of pain as the appendage wrapped about his leg began to pull him downward. His feet still planted firmly upon the grainy surface moving below him, he began to sway off balance from the pressure of being pulled harder.
Simon began to thrash and attempt to jerk his leg free of its confining trap. Each forceful tug caused the tentacle to grow tighter, the burning grow sharper, the itch spread faster. Misery and pain painted itself upon the boys face and he began to scream louder, his pleas echoing off the water.
Those gathered on the far shore watched as Simon began to fight against an invisible foe. ?o you think he has a cramp?one child asked. ?ust be,replied another.
Simon sensed the bulk beneath his feet shift, pulling him towards the far end of the pond further from his friends. As his course shifted the slimy appendage increased its pull causing him to tumble into the muddy water. The beating of his arms rose to a frantic pace as h
e fought to keep his head above the surface.
Along the shore the boys gathered in wait began to trot along, keeping pace with the retreating Simon. Many shouts of excitement and worry could be heard as they watched astonishingly at Simons sudden change of course.
Fighting in the open water of the pond Simon felt the tendril pull against his leg once more, its force providing no competition to his flailing arms. Feeling himself pulled beneath the surface Simon swallowed one final lungful of air knowing full well it could be his last.
He attempted to open his eyes, hoping for a glimpse of what was pulling him to the murky floor below. His view blurry as the muddy water invaded his eyes, all before him was cast in a hazy sheen. Below he could see the long tentacle attached to his leg disappearing into the gaping darkness spread across the bed of the lake, the coldness wrapping around him like the hugs he dreamed of from the young girl watching above.
As he sank Simon glanced back towards the sandbar he was plucked from. Before him was a immense wall, mottled in browns and greens, a thin layer of sandy rocks covering the surface. His eyes drawn along the length of the structure, Simon followed the curves of his moving sandbar in search of what was moving the behemoth beneath his feet. Eyes
“All right. I?l go.
Stopping briefly to tread water, Simon glanced back towards the beach to judge the distance he had covered; what felt like miles turned out to be merely a few yards. The crowd that had gathered to watch his attempt at swimming across the pond was growing as word of his swim traveled along the beach.
He pushed his arms in a slow back and forth motion to keep himself afloat; he felt downwards into the dark water with his toe to judge his depth. Feeling nothing but a growing cold far below him and the tickle of seaweed rising up from the muddy lakebed, he felt slightly reassured knowing that the lakebed was close by. With a sigh he turned and began to swim once again.
To keep his fears in check, Simon carried on a dialogue with himself as he made his way towards the center of the pond. ?ou can do thisand ?lmost halfwaywas heard as he coaxed himself along. Peering to the shoreline he spied a group of children making their way around the pond to wait for him on the far side. It was quite an accomplishment to swim across the pond and congratulations were in order when one climbed out onto the grassy shore.
As he swam, a panic arose in Simon. He wasn? positive but it felt as though a slimy and spiny something had brushed against his outstretched leg. Stopping once again to tread water, he frantically scanned the water around him in an attempt to see into the depths. Unable to spy anything beyond the muddy surface he probed once again with his feet to locate the culprit; what he discovered was the growing cold about him and the lack of weeds tickling his feet. He was on his own from this point forward; he was in the middle of the pond.
Continuing on his swim, Simon pondered the consequences of giving in to Billy? pressures. Once completed he no longer would have to worry about the ridicule of not tackling the swim. He would be a brother with all who accomplished the task, surely this would bring along a sense of new friends. Also, Suzie would see him as a man, a man who both made the swim across Price? Pond and one who stood up to Billy Connolly. Surely this factor would outweigh his newfound brotherhood and friends. Regardless of the positives, his nerves remained on high alert as he neared the center of the pond.
With a start Simon felt the clammy caress across his leg return. As a dog licks one? hand in a friendly greeting, Simon felt a similar sensation across the arch of his foot.
As sudden as its arrival, the presence went away once more. Not pausing this time to locate the source of torment, Simon poured his strength into his breaststroke in an effort to speed his swim across the lake. Muscles burning, the fear pushed him on causing his breath to come in ragged gasps.
Fear began to sink its way into his chest with icy fingers as his asthma began to rear its ugly head. Brought on by exertion and fear, he began to wheeze as he gasped for breath. His stroke faltered as he began to flail in panicked motions. His splashing drew the attention of the kids standing on the far shore. ?ey, is he having problems?one was heard to ask. Fighting against the pull of the murky blackness below as well as the tightening of his chest, Simon could make out the children waving at him. The notion that he was at the halfway point was a slight relief to his current struggle.
Pausing in his fight to stay afloat Simon grew aware of something massive looming beneath his feet. There was neither the caress of slime nor the prickling of spines as in earlier encounters, just the passage of something far larger than he was far below him. Regardless of it being fact or imagination, it caused Simon? panic to rise along with the burning of his clenched chest.
Teetering upon giving up, Simon considered throwing in the towel. Surely he would face ridicule and the loss of affection from that special girl, yet he saw no other way to avoid the conclusion. His fear was overtaking him and his breath was coming shorter. He needed to call for help; facing the group of boys on the far side of the pond, he began to wave his arms and attempted yell.
“Hey, what? he yelling?one of the children asked?
“Don? know, he? too far outwas the reply.
Seeing that no one was hearing his call for help, Simon reluctantly decided to finish his swim across the pond. Despite what anybody thought of him, death was no way to end his summer vacation, a fact that Simon was acutely aware of. Resuming once more he inched ever closer to his destination.
Feet kicking furiously, Simon traveled only a few feet before he felt his toes kick against something solid. Fear was his initial reaction as the recollection of his unseen visitor from moments ago was fresh upon his memory. Continuing to kick past this newfound obstacle, he probed below him as he swam over. The feeling beneath his fingers was firm and unyielding and covered with fine gritty sand. Testing his weight against the apparent sandbar, Simon let his arms cease their panicked beating and stood tentatively upon the hidden island. Head and shoulders rising above the surface, relief poured throughout his body as he sucked in a long deep breath to ease his sore lungs. Simon had discovered a sand bar in the middle of the pond giving him a brief respite in the face of failure.
Relieved in the chance to rest his tired arms, Simon smiled broadly. He was going to make it across the pod after all. Gazing at the children huddled on the shore, he waved at them enthusiastically knowing that he found his break.
“How? he doing that?The child voicing the question looked puzzled as he watched Simon grinning madly in the center of the pond.
“I don? remember a sand bar out there when I went across.This second child showed an equally puzzled look as Simon stood magically out of the water.
Confusion and surprise was a mixture upon the faces of the young boys watching Simons swim. Most stood with their arms limp to their sides or their hands cocked above their eyes to shade them from the sun. Simon was confused at their lack of excitement at his find in the center of Price? Pond but shrugged it off; he was going to save his fate yet.
As he stood watching Simon noticed that the group awaiting him upon the shore was moving away. They stood stock still along the lapping edges of the shore, yet they were growing farther away at a creeping pace. This discovery sinking into his young brain, he noticed that they had made this connection as well; many of the kids were beginning to point excitedly in his direction.
He muddled through the idea that his sandbar was in fact moving. Gazing towards his feet he tried to see the shelf of land below him. The water, which was at his knees when he first stood up, was now around the waist of his trunks. He was sinking as well as moving. Watching the water level creep upwards along the length of his body, he felt a sudden shift below him. Simon threw his arms above his head in an attempt to balance himself as his fear began to rise once more; sandbars were not mean to move as far as Simon knew.
Searing pain ignited the calf of his left leg, the suddenness causing the boy to gasp. From knee to ankle he could feel a firm tendril wrapped tightly, soft and clammy at first touch. Soon thereafter his leg began to twinge much like the onset of poison ivy. Intense itching then followed the burn, both progressing upwards along his leg.
Simon let out a scream of pain as the appendage wrapped about his leg began to pull him downward. His feet still planted firmly upon the grainy surface moving below him, he began to sway off balance from the pressure of being pulled harder.
Simon began to thrash and attempt to jerk his leg free of its confining trap. Each forceful tug caused the tentacle to grow tighter, the burning grow sharper, the itch spread faster. Misery and pain painted itself upon the boys face and he began to scream louder, his pleas echoing off the water.
Those gathered on the far shore watched as Simon began to fight against an invisible foe. ?o you think he has a cramp?one child asked. ?ust be,replied another.
Simon sensed the bulk beneath his feet shift, pulling him towards the far end of the pond further from his friends. As his course shifted the slimy appendage increased its pull causing him to tumble into the muddy water. The beating of his arms rose to a frantic pace as h
e fought to keep his head above the surface.
Along the shore the boys gathered in wait began to trot along, keeping pace with the retreating Simon. Many shouts of excitement and worry could be heard as they watched astonishingly at Simons sudden change of course.
Fighting in the open water of the pond Simon felt the tendril pull against his leg once more, its force providing no competition to his flailing arms. Feeling himself pulled beneath the surface Simon swallowed one final lungful of air knowing full well it could be his last.
He attempted to open his eyes, hoping for a glimpse of what was pulling him to the murky floor below. His view blurry as the muddy water invaded his eyes, all before him was cast in a hazy sheen. Below he could see the long tentacle attached to his leg disappearing into the gaping darkness spread across the bed of the lake, the coldness wrapping around him like the hugs he dreamed of from the young girl watching above.
As he sank Simon glanced back towards the sandbar he was plucked from. Before him was a immense wall, mottled in browns and greens, a thin layer of sandy rocks covering the surface. His eyes drawn along the length of the structure, Simon followed the curves of his moving sandbar in search of what was moving the behemoth beneath his feet. Eyes
