Murky Waters

Jasmine sat in the backseat with her friend Laura, watching the trees whizz by as Laura’s father, Mr. Rittenhouse drove. Mrs. Rittenhouse sat in the passenger seat, pointing at the wooden scenery and expressing her thoughts to her partner driving. Laura sat behind her mother, headphones on, slightly moving her head to the pop rhythms playing on her smartphone.

Jasmine, however, was not interested in chatting or listening to music. She was a bit too lost in her own thoughts, reminiscing about the peculiar conversation she had with her parents and uncle a couple of nights before. What began as her simply asking for permission to go on a trip with her best friend morphed into a somewhat morbid history lesson…

Jasmine came downstairs to join her family for dinner. She had just returned from rugby practice; Laura and her play together at their school’s rugby team. Laura’s parents came to pick up their daughter after practice and asked Jasmine if she wanted to join them to stay at a lake house they rented for the weekend.

“It would be fun!”, Laura said, jumping with excitement. Her auburn hair bounced with her.

“We would absolutely love to have you,” implored Mrs. Rittenhouse.

“I would love to go. I just have to ask my parents first.”

“Of course. Please tell them we said hello and we would love for you to join us on Lake Martier. You don't need to bring anything - just some clothes and a bathing suit. We will take care of the rest.”

“Yes, you will be well taken care of,” Mr. Rittenhouse chimed in.

“Okay, I’ll let them know,” Jasmine said, and she waved goodbye to her friend and parents as they walked to their car.

Jasmine was not expecting the initial reaction she received from her family. She honestly didn’t know what to expect considering it was the first time she had asked to go anywhere with Laura outside of school and the town where they lived. However, she immediately noticed how worrisome her parents Mrs. and Mrs. Branston appeared. They looked at each other with concern.

Her uncle Samuel noticed it too, and took it as an opportunity to be their blunt, yet comedic, mouthpiece.

“Lake Martier?! Girl, you haven’t heard what goes on over there?”, he blurted out.

“Samuel!”, Jasmine's mother whispered to her younger brother, ”You don’t have to make her afraid.”

“She ain’t got nothing to be afraid of, honestly. Her friend, though…?”, her uncle shrugged, then chuckled menacingly. Although he was a temporary addition to their nuclear household - due to job relocation and him staying until finding his new home - her uncle Sam easily felt like a lasting fixture, always bringing his fiery energy and finding humor in most circumstances. Jasmine always loved him for this, loved when he would visit and make every opportunity for fun time possible.

Until now; he clearly wasn’t helping at all, as if preventing her from going. What did he know?

Jasmine watched as her mother looked at her partner in disbelief. Jasmine’s father laughed while softly grabbing and caressing his partner’s hand.

“He does have a point, sweetie. Nothing ever happens to us there.” He slowly stroked the top of her hand.

Mrs. Branston gasped, then snatched her hand away while rolling her eyes. Both men laughed.

“You two are something else!”, she said, then got up to go to the kitchen.

Jasmine was only confused by this point and couldn’t understand what was so amusing. Her father noticed.

“Don’t worry, Jazzy,” he said, ”It’s just stories, stories that we were told about the lake when we were growing up.”

“Just stories?!”, her uncle interjected, “You don’t watch the news? Just last week they reported they found…”

“OKAY. That’s enough,” her mother exclaimed, returning from the kitchen, “I think Jasmine has heard plenty.”

Jasmine disagreed. “What stories?”

“I already told you, Jazz. They ain’t stories. They’re facts; facts you should know before you and your friend go near that lake!”

“Okay, but what facts?”

Mr. and Mrs. Branston turned towards her uncle, eagerly anticipating his reply.

He paused momentarily, then said calmly, “I can show you better than I can tell you.”

Her parents burst into laughter. “Really, Sam?”, laughed Mr. Branston, “Is that what you are going to leave her with? That’s your response?”

“No, I’m serious. That area has a lot of history that would take days - if not weeks - for me to share with you.” He paused. “I’ll tell you what; before you leave, I will have something for you before you go. I think you will appreciate it.”

Ultimately her parents, having met Laura’s parents prior and trusting she will be safe, permitted her to go to Lake Martier for the weekend. The morning before leaving, she mysteriously found a burgundy red velvet book on her bed, titled Murky Waters: The Untold History of Lake Martier. Jasmine smiled, then placed it in her suitcase.

* * * * * * * * * * *

“We’re here!”, Laura exclaimed as she jumped out of the car.

Jasmine opened the door and stopped to look at the front of the lake house they were going to stay. It appeared harmless to her, serene in fact. There didn’t appear to be any frills or signs of gaudiness; just a simple place to relax and enjoy the benefits of being surrounded by nature.

“I’ll unpack the car, “ Mr. Rittenhouse said, “You ladies go ahead and check out the gorgeous scenery in the back.”

The lake, Jasmine thought. She was eager to see the infamous body of water her parents and uncle were so rattled about. Laura had already gotten a head start and was off exploring the place, nowhere to be seen.

Jasmine didn’t mind; she actually liked exploring new places in solitude where can be alone with her thoughts, her dreams, her fears. She kept walking along the side of the house towards the back where the lake was supposedly located.

And there it was, a cobalt-colored reservoir surrounded by trees, shrubbery, and tall cattails. It appeared peaceful and welcoming enough, no rough winds or choppy waters. As Jasmine walked along the shore and on the dock, she felt the warming sun on her rich brown skin, the subtle breeze blowing through her shoulder-length locs, past her ears, as if softly whispering “Welcome.”

She sat down on the edge of the dock and let her legs dangle. She watched her legs as she kicked them over the water, letting her inner child have its moment. She took a deep breath of fresh air and exhaled. This was a great respite from the urban atmosphere she was accustomed to, and she certainly was not opposed to the change of scenery.

It's so relaxing here. I could get used to this.

Suddenly, she felt something small crawling on her thigh. She looked down and found a small black beetle crawling up her leg, trying to find its way. She gently placed her hand in front of the beetle so it could crawl into it, then gently placed it on the dock. She watched it as it crawled on the dock, not sure where it was heading. Then she noticed another beetle, and another, and within minutes at least 20 beetles were crawling aimlessly near her on the dock.

As Jasmine attempted to stand to avoid the little decomposers, she soon realized there was more company. A little girl with pecan brown skin, braided pigtails, and a red dress was standing on the dock next to her, staring at her.

Startled, Jasmine jumped. “Woah!” she exclaimed, “Um, hi there.”

The girl looked up at her, her brown eyes filled with innocent curiosity. “Have you seen my family?”, she asked.

“Your...your family?”, Jasmine stuttered. She looked around for any sign of an adult that might look like her family. She couldn’t imagine how scared this little girl must be, out there alone not knowing where her family was. Yet, the lake was quiet, eerily quiet. The breeze she felt earlier was no longer present, and there was now an overcast. Jasmine thought it was strange she was out by herself but thought she might be able to help her.

“No, I don’t see anyone,” she said, before turning towards the lost girl, “What is your n--...?”

She was gone. Jasmine immediately looked down in the water to see if she had jumped in, but the water was still - no sign of disturbance. She frantically looked around to see where the girl could have gone.

“There you are!” Laura yelled from the lakeshore. Jasmine watched as her friend waved, then ran on the dock to meet her. “You okay?”

For a second, Jasmine considered telling her about the lost girl, but quickly decided it could wait.

“Yeah, I'm great. It’s beautiful out here!”

“I know! And you haven’t even seen the inside of the house. Come on!” She grabbed Jasmine’s hand and they both laughed as they ran towards the lake house.

Jasmine sat up in her bed. Laura and she were sharing a room with two twin beds, and Laura was already fast asleep. Quietly, Jasmine reached over to the nightstand and picked up the burgundy book her uncle left for her. She opened it and began reading its introduction…

Introduction

Lake Martier is a beautiful lake surrounded by trees, shrubs, and other flora. Many lovely homes encompass its exterior, and it's often considered a favorite place to engage in watersports such as kayaking, waterskiing, and fishing. People come from miles to take leisure in its inviting waters, yet little is known about its history or how it emerged to become the popular vacation spot the upper middle-class claim it to be today. In fact, little is discussed in social circles about the past and current incidents that have occurred in or around its waters. Until recently, there were very few written accounts about its significance to its surrounding communities.

Now, after almost a decade of archive research and interviews, the untold history of this mysterious body of water has finally been revealed, exposing the uncomfortable and shocking truths about its existence and the neighborhoods surrounding it.

This is the true, never-before-told history of Lake Martier...

Jasmine woke up to the smell of pancakes.

“Wake up! Rise and shine, sleepyhead!” Laura jumped in bed with Jasmine wearing a robe, her hair wet, smelling freshly showered.

“Okay, I’m up. I’m up!” Jasmine grumbled, then smiled.

“Good! Dad is making pancakes, and then afterward we’re gonna go kayaking, so get ready with your swimsuit and meet us downstairs in 30 minutes. Okay?”

“Roger that,” Jasmine said into her pillow while throwing a thumbs-up in the air.

She managed to get out of bed, take a shower and get downstairs within thirty minutes to be greeted by a lovely morning spread of pancakes, scrambled eggs, and chicken sausage links, along with a glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice.

“I juiced them myself this morning, and now I smell like an orange grove!” said Mr. Rittenhouse.

“Eat up, 'cause you will have all the energy for our kayaking adventure,” said Mrs. Rittenhouse, “And the weather seems just perfect, so I think we will have a good time on the lake.”

“I hope so,” Jasmine said as she took a sip of her orange juice, “I can’t wait!”

The Rittenhouses and Jasmine put on their water gear - safety vests and water shoes - and headed towards the lake. Jasmine stopped before the dock for a second so she could put her locs up in a bun. As she started twisting her locs up above her head, she heard something, like a whimper. She couldn’t make out exactly what she heard so she walked backwards away from the dock, towards the direction of the sound. As she got closer, it began to sound more like weeping, so she crept ever closer to the bush where she thought the sound was coming from.

Then, she saw her; the same girl with the red dress and braided pigtails. She was sitting in a fetal position, with her arms wrapped around her knees, and her head in her arms, weeping.

“Hi there,” Jasmine whispered, “Are you okay?”

The little girl looked up, wiping her tears. “I can’t find my family. I’m scared.”

Jasmine kneeled beside her. “I would be too. And your family must be worried sick about you. Do you remember where you last saw them?”

“Yes,” the girl said, sniffling.

“Where? Point to it for me.”

“Over there,” the girl pointed to the lake.

Jasmine looked in that direction. “Where? Past the lake?”

“No. There,” She pointed to the middle of the lake. “Right there.”

Jasmine looked at the lake, confused. “I...I don’t think I understand.”

“Jasmine?”

Jasmine got up and turned to see Laura looking at her suspiciously. “What are you doing back here?”

Jasmine looked behind her, and like before, the girl was gone. She needed to make a believable excuse, quickly.

“I...dropped something and I thought it rolled over here, but I guess I was wrong.”

“Okay. Well, let’s get back to the dock. We were waiting for you!”

Jasmine and Laura headed back to the dock, where Laura’s parents were waiting.

“You ready, ladies?” asked Mr. Rittenhouse, “Time to get paddling!”

Later that night, Laura and Jasmine discussed what happened at the lake earlier.

“I don’t know what happened,” said as she laid down in bed, looking up at the ceiling, “At one point we were on the lake, and the waters were calm. Then all of a sudden, the waters became really choppy, and Mom was underwater!”

“I know. I didn’t know a kayak could flip like that.”

“Yeah. Like, I didn’t even realize the water was getting so erratic. It got violent within minutes it seems.” Laura sighed. “I'm just glad my mother came out okay.”

“Yeah, me too,” Jasmine agreed, concerned for her friend. She could only imagine what she must have felt at the moment when it appeared her mother might drown. What’s worse is she hadn’t even noticed, as the waters where her kayak was were calm, and she was enjoying the lake from only a few feet away. She wanted to let her know for a while that she was growing more suspicious about the lake, about the little girl, about what she had been reading about the lake and its hidden history.

“Laura, does something about this lake feel weird to you?”

“I don’t know, maybe. Like, what?”

“I don’t know. It just feels like there is something mystical about this place. Like...like it’s haunted? ”

“Hm. Yeah, maybe.” Laura said, as she yawned and turned over to go to sleep. “Good night.”

“Yeah, goodnight.” Jasmine sighed; she wasn’t yet ready to go to sleep. She reached over to the nightstand to pick up the cryptic burgundy book. Perhaps she might get more answers. Of what? She wasn’t sure.

Chapter Two

During Reconstruction, the city of Oatsville quickly grew into a bustling town filled with newly freed people ready to start their lives anew. Many traveled hundreds of miles to start a new life, and were quick to build their homes and start growing crops on the new land.

It soon had all the amenities of a successful community, with a growing economy resulting from the sprouting of multiple small businesses, which meant a growing availability of jobs. Many of the families went to the same doctor and bank during the week and attended the same church on Sunday. Many of the children attended school together and the town knew the teachers by name and family. It was a tight-knit community, full of people of African descent who understood the importance of freedom, and were willing to live by its very definition.

However, the surrounding towns mostly consisted of whites citizens negatively impacted by the Civil War, while still carrying malice from the war, and were not yet ready to be neighbors with the newly emancipated people. This eventually led to violence, including a deadly massacre that would devastate the entire town of Oatsville for decades. Worst of all, this vile moment in history would be immersed, hidden intentionally to flush away the remnants of what was left of the once vibrant town, only to be revealed over a century later.

Jasmine woke up, her book laid beside her. She looked at the alarm clock on the nightstand.

It’s only 3 am. Why am I up?

Suddenly, she heard the wailing of the wind, its gusts blowing through the branches of the nearby trees. Jasmine sat and listened, as she continued to hear the wind, its wailing slowly getting louder. The more she continued to listen, the more she swore she could hear a voice - no, many voices. She was skeptical at first, but the same two words seem to keep repeating, and they were difficult to ignore.

We’re herrreee. We‘rrrreee heeerrrrreeee, she heard repeatedly. Jasmine was almost mesmerized by the sound, not sure if she was fully awake.

Who’s 'we' ?, she thought. Who are you?

She climbed out of bed to look out the window. She noticed there was a bit of fog, but she couldn’t tell how wide it was, or how dense.

She looked back at her friend, Laura, sleeping deeply in the other bed. Then, after a few moments, she grabbed her shoes, her jacket, and quietly tip-toed out of the room to the back of the house towards the lake.

Once she was outside, the wind seemed to cease; the sound of wailing had halted. Jasmine walked up to the dock and witnessed the fog, thick and rolling over the still lake. At the edge of the dock, she noticed a familiar figure. With no qualms, she walked along the dock to greet her mystical friend.

“Hello, little one,” she said.

The little girl, who was looking out at the lake, looked up at her, her brown eyes beaming with delight. She smiled.

“I found them!” she whispered gleefully, “They’re here!”

“Where?” Jasmine whispered back.

The little girl once again pointed to the lake. Jasmine looked and watched as the dense fog moved as if responding to the girl, moving gradually towards them. As it traveled it began to shift its shape, growing taller and more dense. Deliberately, it continued to change its shape, shifting and transitioning its form until it finally developed into multiple human-like formations.

Jasmine froze, as she suddenly stared into the eyes of many men, women, and children - people, families from long ago. Not just any people; these were people who appeared to have been grieving, unseen, and unheard for a long time - for over a century. Most noticeably, they resembled many of her own family members.

“See? I told you they were here,” the little brown-skinned girl in the red velvet dress with the braided pigtails said.