The Black Bayou Monster

Once Upon a Time. As a child, those four little words made me giddy. They continue to cast a spell today. My Mom fostered the love of reading in my brothers and I. My Grandad and my Dad fostered the love of storytelling. They were masters at it. We loved hearing stories and we loved telling stories. I am entering as evidence; we kids got very creative with our stories about what we were up to.

My Dad was in the military, and we moved frequently during my childhood. Sometimes, he was stationed somewhere the family couldn’t live. This made visits with my grandparents a central and stable part of our young lives. And it made bedtime stories with my Dad extra special.

We didn’t mind bedtime at my Grandad’s house because we knew it meant story time. My Grandad lived out in the country where the stars were visible across a huge expanse of sky and the night noises were nature’s music to sleep by. When the weather was not too hot or too cold, we slept on the screened porch overlooking a log barn and a pond. We would all pile on the bed around him as he began to weave his magic. The stories were always larger than life. His specialty was telling known stories and adding his own little twist. One of us might appear as a character.

He would tell scary stories like My Big Toe about a boy who finds a toe in his garden and gives it to his mother. The family cooks the toe and eats it. The owner of the toe comes looking for it. After building the story up, he would make a surprise grab for our big toes and make us all squeal.

Another favorite, the Three Billy Goats Gruff, was about three Billy goats crossing a bridge to get to a meadow and graze. A troll lived under the bridge and stopped each goat before allowing him to pass. The troll planned to eat each one but held out for the next goat thinking it would be larger and more filling. The troll’s voice was terrifying! We were always so relieved that all three Billy goats made it to the meadow. And the troll got what he deserved.

My Dad sometimes focused on the old favorites of the Three Little Pigs or Goldilocks and the Three Bears. Sometimes, if we were very, very good, he would make up scary bedtime stories. Several stories were about the Black Bayou monster. I’ve tried to capture the nostalgia and the small-town life he infused in these tales. The stories represent some of the happiest moments of my childhood. Please enjoy!

The Black Bayou Monster

The Black Bayou monster skulks along the swampy river from Atlanta, Texas to Vivian, Louisiana. Folks say they spot the large, hulking figure around the full moon and I hear gossip that he howls with a sound that sends chills down your spine and makes the hair on your neck stand straight up. They also say he chases live critters and kills them for supper. They say a lot of things. I don’t really know what is true. I learned a lot in the summer of 1947. I met BB that year.

In July, George and I found an old, abandoned boat with a small motor. We were as excited as two 11-year-olds could be. We spent every waking hour repairing it. Ben helped when he wasn’t working with his daddy in the garage. That boat fueled our dreams. We planned to spend the whole summer fishing. We finally finished up the repairs after a few weeks work. I planned the first trip carefully. George, Ben, and I would sneak down to the copse of trees where we stashed the boat and take her out after dark.

(We always interrupted at this point – Daddy, did you get in trouble for sneaking out? And he would always respond, do you want to hear this story, or not?)

We had decided on tonight for the maiden voyage. I was barely able to make it through supper. The excitement was making me squirm. I ran from the table as soon as I was excused and headed up to my room to get ready for a night of fishing. Dusk was setting, but I still had a good hour before I could climb out the window. I sat and stared toward the bayou. The shadows were heavy, and I thought I made out a sizable form moving swiftly through the trees. Intrigued, I sat forward trying to see what was there. The shadow had the basic shape of an exceptionally large man with huge shoulders and an enormous head. It moved gracefully through the underbrush and melted swiftly into the deepening dusk. What was it? Were the stories true? Was there really a Black Bayou monster?

My mind continued to circle in on itself as I slipped out and headed towards the boat. George and Ben would have something to say about this. I skirted the water and stayed on dry ground, avoiding where I’d seen the shadow. The cicadas were making music and the lightening bugs were putting on a show. I slowed down to watch for snakes hunting in the darkness. During the heat of the summer, you rarely see them out until nightfall. Dimly, I made out George and Ben pulling the boat free. Ben stepped into the boat and picked up a long looking stick. George was gesticulating wildly at him. As I got closer, I could see the stick was not a stick. It was a rifle.

“What do you have a rifle for”, I asked Ben.

Ben looked a little scared. “Someone spotted the Black Bayou monster today”, he replied. “I brought it for protection.”

“Let’s shove off”, George said. “Fish aren’t going to jump in the boat.”

We headed out towards the middle of the bayou moving slowly through the murky waters. We maneuvered around the tree stumps that appeared like arms clawing for the sky. The bayou was spooky in the dark. The stars sprinkled brilliantly across the sky and the full moon lit a path across the water. Ben sat in the bow of the boat looking out and caressing the rifle. The motor made a soft, insistent sound as we made our way to a good fishing spot.

I wondered if I should tell George about sighting the Black Bayou monster. We should all be on the lookout in case we run into him.

“Hey George”. I whispered across the boat. “I think I saw the Black Bayou monster today. It was just getting dark. And I was ready to leave. And I saw this huge shadow moving through the trees. It was kind of scary looking.”

George looked askance. “What did he look like? Does he really look like a big dog? “

“No”, I said. “He looks like a giant man.”

“Was he naked? Did he have fur? Did you get a good look at his face?”

“No, it was too dark, so I didn't see him very clear.”

Ben turned to look at the two of us. “Did you really see him?” Ben asked.

“I think that's what I saw”.

I cut the motor and let the boat drift past a stand of cypress trees. She was floating well considering how much patching had gone into her. Ben looked warily across his shoulder and jumped at each noise that seemed slightly louder than the last. I watched nervously as he reflexively put his hand on the rifle’s trigger. The gun was ready to fire and his trigger-happy finger might mistakenly fire at one of us.

“You know, it might be out there. It could be watching us. It may want to catch us and eat us for dinner. I think I see something moving in the trees.” Ben’s voice quavered as he spoke.

George stared into the night; Black Bayou lit only by the bright, full moon. We tried to pierce the darkness around the trees. I felt a heaviness in the air and realized that my heart was racing. The murky water beneath the boat seemed to stir as something moved silently by.

“Aaaagh”, Ben screamed. His arm pointed over the water.

“Aaaaagh”, he screamed again.

I jumped to my feet and stared. My heartbeat kicked up a notch as I saw what was headed our direction. It was the largest snake I’d ever seen on the bayou. It looked as if it were flying across the water. Some snakes are aggressive when you are invading their territory. I felt a rush of adrenaline and started looking for something, anything, to defend myself.

Ben began to jump around on the boat. He lifted the rifle and took a shot. And missed. The snake continued directly towards us and leapt into the boat.

“Aaaaagh!” That came from all three of us.

Ben lifted the rifle and pointed it at the snake in the bottom of the boat.

“No”, I yelled.

George jumped to his feet and backed away towards the bow. Ben pulled the trigger and as he blew a hole in the bottom of the boat, the snake swam away. And the boat began to sink, slowly filling with water. Not slowly. It was filling fast. We started looking for the closest piece of land. The water was so murky we couldn’t see how deep it was or what lay under the surface.

“What did you do that for?”, I yelled at Ben. “You ruined our boat!”

Ben began to cry. “I can’t swim. I’m scared. What are we going to do?”

“Help! Help! Help!”, he started screaming into the quiet of the bayou.

“We are too far out for anyone to hear you, Ben.”, George told him.

“I’ll pull you to shore, Ben. Don’t worry. We’re going to get out of this.” I mourned the loss of the boat, but realized we had a greater need to get to safety. I jumped out of the boat and began to tread water as George and I both waited for Ben to jump in. He stood in the middle of the sinking boat looking panic stricken.

All thoughts of the Black Bayou monster were gone from my mind. Until I heard sloshing coming towards us. The sound was heavy pushing the water away as if it were nothing. The blood in my veins turned to ice. I could not look behind me. Don’t look, don’t look, don’t look played through my head.

Ben suddenly launched himself into the water and grabbed me around the neck. He was climbing up my body and pushing my head underwater in his terror at what was approaching and his terror of drowning. I fought and flailed against the adrenaline filled body intent on using me as a life jacket. I thought my lungs would burst as I fought to get my head above water. Ben was insanely strong in his terror state.

I could almost see George trying to pull Ben off me. I could hear his muffled shouts through the murky water. I reflexively started to draw a deep breath when a large hand grabbed me by one arm and pulled me above water. Ben was hanging from his other meaty hand. I looked into the face of the Black Bayou monster.

“Hi, BB”, I said. And I grinned bigger than I have in my life.

And he grinned back.