Dan Poblocki - The Stone Child

“It’s coming up from the bottom of the lake.” Eddie leaned forward. “Like a geyser.” He was frightened, yet at the same time, he was curious. “Or maybe not. I can’t really tell.” He’d never seen anything like this before. After Harris’s spooky stories about the woods and the town, he felt compelled to run away, but he also wanted to stay to see what would happen as the black shape grew and grew. This almost seemed like something that would happen in a Nathaniel Olmstead book, but, of course, Eddie told himself, those stories were not real, in spite of what people believed.

Now the dark shape in the middle of the lake was as large as a small island, taking up almost all of the water’s surface. The blue reflection from above had been replaced by darkness from below, as if someone had covered the sky with a blanket; yet, when Eddie looked up, he could see the sun still shining somewhere beyond the canopy of trees near the horizon. Even so, the afternoon light barely broke through the tree-tops. Then Eddie noticed something even weirder. In the water, there began to appear little white specks of light, which wavered as the surface rippled slightly. Eddie was reminded of a book he’d read about phosphorescent algae. He also remembered reading about a type of shrimp capable of producing a small amount of light, like a firefly. But these specks of light didn’t look like algae or shrimp or fireflies. They appeared to be something else-something familiar that Eddie couldn’t quite name.

“Are those… stars?” whispered Harris.

The darkness reached the shore, so that now, except for the specks of light, the entire lake had turned black. The water did not merely look dirty-but impenetrable and infinite. Eddie cautiously leaned forward even farther. “You’re right,” he said. “It almost looks like… a reflection of the night sky.” He glanced up at the cirrus clouds wisping in the afternoon light, then shook his head, baffled. He bent down and picked up another pebble from the edge of the water. He was about to toss it in to see what would happen, when Harris grabbed his arm.

“Don’t,” said Harris. “Look.”

The specks of white had turned red. Eddie realized they no longer looked like the reflection of stars from above. Now the lights were clearly floating just below the water, close enough for Eddie to reach out and touch. The sight was almost hypnotic. Eddie began to feel dizzy. Suddenly, he knew what would happen next. He’d read about it in one of Nathaniel Olmstead’s books on Saturday night.

“Eddie, get away.” Harris yanked him backward as something large in the middle of the lake splashed the dark water. Several waves came rolling slowly toward the shore. Unable to look away, Eddie felt his skin go prickly with goose bumps. His mouth felt as if it was filled with dust. His hands were numb. Harris continued to pull on his sleeve. When Eddie glanced at him, he could see fright welling up in Harris’s eyes. His mouth had fallen open, and his skin had turned ashen. Seeing Harris afraid made Eddie twice as scared as before.

Harris swiftly shot his finger to his lips and nodded toward the hillside. Slowly backing away, the boys made it to the edge of the woods. Several pine branches poked into Eddie’s back. He jumped. The splashing in the middle of the lake stopped. The small waves finally rose up and rolled onto the pebbly beach, breaking and washing the shore in slow, steady rhythm. The soft lapping of the water was the only sound Eddie could hear. Then, several feet from the edge of the lake, a shape churned the water-something rising from the shallows below the surface. A muffled howl resonated faintly from its direction. Eddie’s mouth dropped open in horror as he saw what looked like a long black snout and a flash of several sharp white teeth.

The boys turned and ran as fast as they could, slipping and sliding up the slope in the mud and dirt. At the top of the hill, the statue watched silently as the boys ran through the clearing and into the woods. Eddie followed Harris, leaping over large roots and half-buried rocks that jutted out of the ground every few feet. In some places, the trees had grown densely together. Trying not to slip in patches of silt and leaves, the boys weaved back and forth as if through an obstacle course. Even though he was nearly out of breath, Eddie glanced over his shoulder.

But there was nothing there.

Still, he wanted to get away from this place as quickly as possible. Eddie sprinted into the woods, clutching the straps of his bag, which bounced against his back. At the edge of the flatland, the boys briefly caught their breath before heading over the ridge, through the orchard, past Nathaniel Olmstead’s house, and all the way down the long driveway. By the time they got to their bikes, Eddie was feeling faint.

He dropped to the side of the road and hung his head between his knees. After he caught his breath, he glanced up at Harris, who was leaning against the fence in shock. “What the heck just happened?” said Eddie. “I thought I saw… dogs… coming out of the water for us!”

“I’m not sure what I saw,” said Harris, red-faced and weary. “But I have an idea.” He pushed himself away from the fence and stumbled toward his bike. “There’s something else I think you should see.”

“It’s not another statue, is it?” said Eddie.

Harris shook his head, lifted the handlebar, and set his bicycle upright at the edge of the road. After swinging his leg over the seat, he kicked at Eddie’s bike, which was still on its side in the brush. “Do you think you’re okay enough to ride this thing back to my place?”

Eddie nodded.

“Because we should probably get the heck out of here.”

By the time they reached Main Street, Eddie was shaking with exhaustion and fear. “Hey! Wait for me!” Eddie called, but Harris raced toward his mother’s store.

When Eddie came around the side of the building, he noticed Harris’s bike tossed near the still-swinging apartment door. Eddie propped his bike against the wall. He grabbed the doorknob and pulled.

Up the stairs to Eddie’s right, Harris stood in front of another open door. “This way,” Harris said.

At the top of the stairs Eddie found a neatly kept kitchen. Harris dropped his book bag onto a chair at a table opposite the refrigerator. Green gingham curtains hung in the window above the sink. A bowl of fruit sat on the counter. A dishwasher was running quietly.

“Where have you been, Harris? I was starting to worry.” A woman came through a doorway next to the refrigerator with a dripping tea bag in one hand and a steaming mug in the other. She looked about the same age as Eddie’s mother. She wore jeans, a tank top, and baubly green beads draped around her neck. When she noticed that Harris was not alone, she said, “Oh, I didn’t realize you brought home a friend.” Her smile was sweet. Her warm brown eyes matched the few dark strands that ran through her blond hair. “You boys are filthy,” she said with amusement. “What have you been doing?”

“Eddie’s going to stay for dinner. Is that okay?” asked Harris, quickly changing the subject. He walked over to the sink and started to wash his hands.

“That’s fine with me,” said Harris’s mother, shrugging. “But why don’t you call your parents and ask them if it’s okay. Do you like leftover meat loaf, Eddie?”

Eddie nodded sheepishly. He hadn’t prepared himself to meet Harris’s mother, never mind have her invite him to stay for dinner. He felt dirty and intrusive, but when she held out her hand and introduced herself, he realized he was welcome.

“You can call me Frances,” she said. “How was the first day, Harris? Who’d you get for homeroom this year?”