Black Bayou Read online

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  "The three were brought back here in chains. Hanging seemed too good for them, so the neighbors dug a deep pond with a high fence where the swimming pool is now. Our slaves captured and brought three huge alligators for the pond. They staked the guilty men at the edge of the pond by a rope around each neck, a scant few inches from the water. Dead, bleeding chickens were tossed between them to excite the blood lust of the animals. In short order, the men became targets for the hungry creatures crawling out of the water. At first, a foot or two, then legs disappeared in bloody pools. Their screams could be heard for miles, I was told later, but for what they did to my daughter, it was not enough to see them suffer with loss of limbs.

  "So, while the alligators languished in the water, the men were dangled by ropes around their chests from the oak trees over the pond, just where we hung that whore who killed my David. They were slowly lowered into the water. Their bloody wounds dripped into the water, once again exciting the gators. As parts of the bodies were torn away, they were lowered even further into the water. This went on until the screaming stopped. The alligators were allowed to finish their meals before being killed ... after all, we did not want alligators who might have taken to the taste of human flesh. The alligators went to the slaves, who ate them after skinning them for their hides.

  "My God. How could you do that?” Windy was white-faced and angry.

  "Is it any worse, my dear, than skinning them alive? Or staking them out over anthills? Or tying ropes to the four limbs and pulling them apart? Killing babies and splitting open the bellies of women with child? Aren't those things your Indians did? Are they any less heinous than what we did? I think not."

  Windy held her tongue, but Ellen spoke in a small voice. “This again is a case where two wrongs do not make a right. I do understand, Mrs. Atwater, your need for revenge, but what you did seems excessive."

  "Perhaps you will understand better if I tell you that whatever happened to Glenda that day had something to do with snakes. She was never afraid of them until after that. She will not discuss it, so you can draw your own conclusions.” Ellen lowered her eyes to her clasped hands in her lap, tears sliding down her cheeks. Mac moved to her side, sliding onto the couch next to her, holding her close once again, kissing her head, drying her tears.

  "Mr. McGregor, remove yourself from there immediately. It is not seemly for you to be fondling a young woman like that. Now! I mean it."

  "Oh, hush, Mrs. A. She needs comforting, that's all. How many times have you comforted Glenda the same way?"

  "That was different. I am her mother, and you are..."

  "I am just a man with compassion. So go on with your story or take a nap or drink your tea or something."

  Mrs. Atwater pulled herself to her full five feet as she stood. “Windy, accompany me to the bathroom."

  "Hold it! Didn't you hear me tell you that a man would take you there? Now, Henry, you take the lady, please. And be alert for creatures."

  "I would still like to go, too, if that is okay with the great white hunter.” Windy's voice was so full of sarcasm, everyone including Ellen laughed. The three left the room.

  Mac lifted Ellen's face with a finger under her chin. They lips met softly at first, before pressure increased and their tongues touched, sending bolts of lightning inside them as bright and awesome as the bolts outside the house. “My God, woman!” He took a deep breath and let his hand move gently down her cheek. He kissed her forehead lightly again, then cupped the back of her head to draw her to his lips again. They could feel the passion as it grew in them. He felt a tightness in his jeans that was like a ramrod. She felt her nipples harden and dampness below. He felt her breast with one hand and continued to hold her head with the other. “I want you, Miss Ellen."

  "And I want you too, Mr. Hey Hay. Kiss me again. I want to see if my toes curl, too."

  He was obliging when they heard a yell from the foyer. “Stay here. Don't move off this couch.” He raced from the room. She could hear frantic words when a door slammed shut somewhere in the house. She forgot his orders and ran toward the voices that met her as they moved back into the parlor. Henry closed the door and replaced the rolled rug against it, as before.

  "What happened? Are you all right? Where is Windy?"

  No one spoke until Mrs. Atwater was seated and wrapped in a blanket, feet on a small stool. “While I was in the facilities with Henry just outside my door, your Windy apparently was wandering around the foyer. Why I have no idea, but when I came out, she was nowhere to be found. Henry checked in the kitchen and found the outside door open. Rain was pouring in, and the room was full of leaves and branches from the wind."

  Before she could continue, Ellen turned to Henry. “Why was she wandering around like that? Where do you think she went?"

  Her voice held so much authority, Henry answered automatically. “She say she be walkin’ cause her be holding back her water, and walkin’ helped. I say her not to go upstairs and her agreed. Ms. Atwater come out, but Miss Windy not be there. I feel wind from kitchen and go there, din come back and holler for Mr. Mac."

  "Where is Mac now, Henry, Mrs. Atwater? Where is he?"

  She replied calmly, “He went out to find your foolish friend Windy. Only a fool would go outdoors during this storm."

  Ellen felt hours of suppressed anger rise to the surface to explode. “Windy is anything but a fool, you old bitch. Neither are Eartha nor Marybeth. And neither am I. We were all fine and well before we got here, and look what has happened in a couple days. This place swallows up people like that damn Black Bayou of yours. No normal human being could live like this. No phone, no radio, no television, not nothing, no...” She stopped in mid sentence. “Phone! You have a phone! Eartha said she had talked to you on the phone to make final reservations for our stay. Damn it, where is the phone!"

  "Calm down, dear, and please watch your language. It is unbecoming for a lady to talk like that. Now, the phone is here in this room, right there on the wall where it has been the entire time you have been here.” She pointed, and Ellen ran to an antique wall phone with a corded earpiece on a hook and a speaker mouth. She listened. Nothing. She jiggled the receiver hook repeatedly. Nothing.

  "I could have told you that it is not in working condition. Once the waters rise or the wind blows, we lose the use of it. Actually, your Eartha's call was our last, as I remember. Now, sit down and we will wait for Mac to return. I believe under the circumstances, perhaps something a bit stronger than tea is in order. Henry, pour me a sherry from the wine rack by the door and refill Miss Ellen's glass as well."

  Outside, the storm seemed to intensify. Crashing sounds and glass breaking from above made Henry and Ellen look up, expecting to see the ceiling coming down on them. Mrs. Atwater calmly sipped from her glass before ordering Henry to add more wood to the fire.

  Ellen slumped in a chair, covered her face with her hands, and prayed. She prayed for Marybeth, Eartha, and that Mac would find Windy. She prayed harder than she had in her entire life, begging the Lord for His intervention.

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  Chapter 17

  It was three hours before Mac returned, completely wet and muddy. They heard the front door open, but Henry held up his hand as if to say, ‘don't move’ and went slowly to the door. Making sure it was locked, he removed the rolled rug, and shouted, “Who dat be out dare?"

  "Unlock the damn door Henry, it's me, Mac."

  Henry moved faster than anyone would have thought, practically dragging a dripping Mac through the door, relocking it immediately. Ellen grabbed another quilt and ran to him, draping it over him as he struggled out of his clothes. He stepped out of the pile, pulling the quilt around him but for the arms that pulled Ellen to him. His kiss was long and deep. Water dripped from his hair onto her face, but she did not seem to notice.

  However, Mrs. Atwater noticed. “Mac, Ellen, this is improper. Why, that man is naked under that quilt. Step away, girl."

>   Instead, Ellen moved closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. After another long kiss, he pulled her arms away. “I will be right back. Going upstairs to see if I can find anything dry. Lightning flashes while I was outside showed most windows on the top floors to be broken, so you all stay put. Be back in a flash ... no pun intended.” He was out the door, followed quickly by Ellen, who paid no attention to the warning from behind her. She did not know where he was going for sure, but she was going too.

  His shadow moved ahead of her, and a blot of lightning showed her which room he entered. The sounds of her movements were covered by the storm. Inside, he found a match and candle and lit it just as she entered. He dropped the quilt and stood before her, looking like a Roman statue.

  He saw her. “I thought I told you to stay...” She moved forward and cut off his words with her mouth. As she kissed him, her hands were busy pulling off her pants and panties. She pressed against him, feeling his intake of breath as he felt her skin against his. He stepped back and pulled her shirt off, then her bra. His mouth found her nipple, and his hand entwined in her curls below. She took him in her hand and moved it slowly until he groaned. He picked her up, depositing her none too gently on the bed, and was between her legs in an instant. She lifted her hips to meet him, and they lost themselves in one another.

  Their mating had been quick and incredibly satisfying to both. He rolled off her and rolled her on top of him. “I am sorry, sweet Ellen, I was too much in a hurry, but you were so incredible, I couldn't stop. Now let me return the pleasure.” He lifted her up to his lips, which found the center of her womanhood until she cried out and buckled, falling down and away, still convulsing. He moved over her again, this time with his penis only semi-ready, but a second after he entered her, it was fully engorged, and once again they moved until their passion was drained.

  They arose, still kissing, and hurried to dress. “Mrs. Atwater will be beside herself at our absence. She will be wondering if we disappeared like the others."

  "She will know exactly what we have been doing, but mark my words, she will say nothing but give us a lecture about frightening her."

  True to his word, that was exactly what she did. Before they were even through the door, she began her tirade. “Where have you two been? I have been worried sick about you. You almost gave this old lady a heart attack. Shame on you."

  Mac interrupted. “Mrs. A, if I told you what we were doing, you would have a heart attack anyway. Now, calm down and let me tell you what I found outside. There were two pair of footprints when I got there, quickly filled with rain and washed away, so no way to track them. I heard a truck start, ran around front just in time to see Windy's pickup drive away. Within seconds, the taillights vanished. I got a truck out of the barn and followed, until I ran out of main road, so I began to take the side roads one at a time, looking in each driveway and house along the way. Nothing. They had vanished. I tried to cross at the place where the bridge was out, but the water was running too swiftly, practically pulling the truck in, so I turned back. I am sorry to have no good news to report."

  He moved to bank the fire so that it would continue to burn gently. “I suggest we all try to get some sleep now. Mrs. Atwater, would you like the sofa by the wall? I think it is the most comfortable. Henry, you pull one of the other ones closer to her so if she needs anything you will be right there.” He lay down on the largest of the couches and pulled Ellen down beside him, pushing a pillow under their heads, his arm around her waist. For once, Mrs. Atwater had no lecture.

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  Chapter 18

  Windy woke up, her hands tied behind her as she sat in a rickety chair. She had no idea where she was, but it was cold and dark here. Her fingers moved to touch her back, and it was as she suspected ... she was naked. She started yelling for help, and then a door opened. A dark figure moved behind her. He placed a tape recorder in her lap and pointed a small flashlight to a paper he held in front of her eyes. “Read this when I start the recorder, if you like living."

  "I will not do a damn thing you tell me. Who are you? Where are we? Let me go."

  "Let you go or what?” His laughter was both mirthful and cruel. “You're in no position to argue, do you think? This is a simple thing. It'll let your parents know you are alive ‘n’ well. You see, they be expectin’ to hear from you. They are in New Orleans this very minute, braving the storm, with a little package for me."

  "New Orleans? Why? What kind of package?” She struggled with her ropes, and he laughed.

  "Don't bother trying ta get your hands loose. I'll be moving you in a few minutes to make ya more comfortable. Would you like that? Now, start reading.” When she did not, he reached around her and twisted one of her nipples so hard she screamed in pain. “Now, read."

  She kept her voice flat, afraid any emotion would bring tears. He turned on the recorder. “Dad, Mom, I am okay. It is cold and dark here, but he said he will let me go as soon as he has the package—that is, if you have not called the police. Drop the package in the river, directly across the river walk from the aquarium in the French Quarter. The drop time is three AM, and he will be watching. No police. If you followed his instructions and talked to Marybeth's parents, you understand what you have to do if you want to see me alive. Please, do whatever he says, because he will kill me. I am so afraid.” As he had done with Marybeth, wanting the recorder to hear a bit of pain, he bent and bit one breast. Her scream was the last thing they would hear.

  "That was just great, my little papoose. I know your peoples are not as rich as those Dallas folks are, so for you, I have only asked for half a million. Little blonde's folks were pleased to give me three million. Now, wasn't that nice of them? Well, since you were a good girl, I will make you comfortable while I be gone.” He hit her on the back of her neck. Her head slumped forward, and her sobbing stopped.

  When she awoke, like Marybeth before her, she came to the conclusion that she was on a desk or table, tied at the feet with her hands secured above her head. Dozing, cold, and uncomfortable, she heard a door open. This time, a light came on, and a face floated above her.

  "Looks like your reservation people got the half million. See, nice, huh? Aren't you glad? Now is when I get the best half of my reward for stealing you away from your friends. Money is wonderful, but I like this part best, at least for a night of sheer pleasure."

  "You promised to let me go. Untie me! I demand you let me go."

  "Now how can I do that, seeing you know what I look like? Besides, you look good enough to eat. Just like your friend over there.” He pointed to a pile of bloody skin and bones thrown in a corner of the room. “Your little friend was tasty and lived long enough for me to enjoy her most of the night. I will try to keep you alive longer, tho’ ... I like to make it last. Sorry it will not be as much fun for you, but that's life! And death!"

  Windy felt her stomach turn over, and she began to vomit. He held her head so it fell over the edge, onto the floor. “Why, we don't want ya ta ruin our fun with that smelly stuff.” He moved away and returned with a running garden hose, which he used to spray away her vomit. He sprayed her face gently to clean it and then dibbled water onto her parched lips.

  "Hey, this hose gives me an idea. Let's try that first. Papoose, look at me."

  She saw the knife as he moved it down her body, letting the tip make a tiny track of blood. Then the hose as he moved it between her legs and up. She screamed. He laughed. Her nightmare had begun.

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  Chapter 19

  It was hard to tell darkness from dawn until the sun had risen somewhere above the subtropical jungle to allow a little natural light, but the storm had increased. Henry and Mac accompanied the women to the bathroom, and they all continued to the kitchen. Soon Henry had the wooden range hot. Its heat spread around the room, seeming to create an almost happy feeling.

  Ellen found a mop and did the best she could to wipe the puddles away, but
with each gust of wind, more water blew in the broken windows. The men were covering them with whatever they could find, hoping to maintain a room with heat where they could ride out the remainder of the storm.

  Mrs. Atwater sat at the table, issuing orders like a marine sergeant. “Ellen, get some eggs from the cold larder and some bread from the box on the counter. There are jams and jellies in the cupboard to the left of the sink, plates to the right. Tableware in the top drawer there, other utensils in drawers below. Skillets hanging on hooks over that useless electric stove Glenda likes so well ... for all the good it is doing us now. Mac, find some pork in the smoke room off the back porch, and mind you, don't bring any unwelcome guests with it. Spiders seem to have developed a liking for ham and bacon. Henry, you will cook because you have some experience with the wood stove.

  "Bring me a large bowl, eggs, some milk, baking powder, and flour. I can sit here and whip up some muffins if you want them instead of toast, since the oven is hot anyway.” She directed them to other items she wanted, and soon the old cast-iron muffin pans were in the oven.

  The room smelled like Heaven when the door burst open, flooding the entry with mud, water, and leaves. The man who rushed in was covered with a rain slicker, but he was drenched.

  "My Goodness, James, you sure know how to make an entrance."

  He sloshed forward and bent to kiss the old woman. “Hi there, Granny. Have you missed me? Henry, I knew you'd be here. And who is this pretty lady?” He stepped forward, taking her hand, but Ellen shuddered and wanted to pull away. He smiled at her, but the smile did not reach his eyes. His face was covered with bristly black whiskers, more than just one day's growth. His eyes seem to burn into her as he looked her up and down, undressing her, leaving her wanting to cover her body with crossed arms. She felt an evil in him that frightened her to her very core.

  Mac moved to her, sliding his arm around her shoulder. “This is Ellen Davis, one of our guests. Or, should I say, our only guest at the time. The three others have disappeared, all of them since they arrived. You, by any chance, have not come across any of them, have you? We have looked as best we can for them, but the waters have made the roads impassable. Say, how did you get here?