Bone Creek Short Story

 My grandma once told me the story of "Bone Creek". It was a nature area featuring small swimming hole and park for picnicing and grilling. When visiting she would never venture out into the water. No matter how much we begged for her to join us, nor how hot the Florida summers were. She never went in, in fact she never went close to the water. She simply watched us like a hawk smiling and waving to remind us she was watching. She never drank from the clean water fountains , or even washed her hands in the sinks provided in the nearby bathrooms, nor would she let us, instead, she always brought her own milk jugs full of fresh water from home. We laughed at her little quirks until she finally thought we were old enough to know why.

I always had assumed the name "Bone" came from the old dead cyprus roots sticking up from the water, small thin trunks of once living saplings that had long died off. I was very wrong. There always seemed to be a heavy air about the place. The dark water seems to have an ominous look to it. As a child I remember only visiting once every other summer maybe, and it was only then because other family members from out of state would ask to visit, most knew nothing about the area's history.  At night, even illuminated with the park lights, it took on an almost snister feeling. It had an erie silence to it. Even the local wildlife and insects avoided the area entirely. It was for all accounts beautiful. It was quiet and seculded off to the side of a small red clay road. A small wooden bridge over a babbling brook announced new arrivals when the tires rattled the old boards as they passed over. 

Lush green ferns grew along side the trails, tall cool grass grew thick throughout the park making running barefoot a pleasure. A long dock out over the water was perfect for jumping from. But across the dark water, to the other side there was a large overflow drain that gurggled and would occasionaly spew water up, terrifying me to the core so of course I would run from the water and refuse to enter it again for the entire visit. Grandma would smile and keep me close to help with the cooking, meaning I got plenty of grandma time and plenty of treats and homemade ice cream. 

I remember in my older teen years, the park was suddenly closed. All of the little park pavilions, benches, picnic tables and lights were removed, even the restrooms and water fountains were taken. Most of us kids thought it was just cut backs or something, maybe the state no longer wanted to manage it. So we choose one afternoon to ride up and take a look. To our surprise, it still had state gates and was now fenced off. Where it was once just a small parking lot with metal arms for gates, it was now blocked off with large metal gates, padlocks and tall fencing running all long the old road past the creek itself. It looked almost dead, and again I noticed the sinister feeling in the air. But my friends were excited, making plans for a party for everyone where we would not be disturbed, or mainly caught. 

The creek had been drained, which meant it was just inches deep in most parts, but swimming was not what the party was about. Drinking and dancing were on the menu for that Friday evening. Another friend mentioned that the creek had been drained once again due to a water moccasin infestation, another said the year before it had been drained due to a gator problem. We asked my uncle who confirmed that each year it was some sort of problem, this year had been the final straw for the Fish and Game commission, seems that the water had become bacteria ridden, basially infected with something. 

At home I mentioned there was to be a party outside the park area to my grandma, she asked where with a shocked face. I told her it was near the drain, on the other side of the creek, in a little naturally clear area. "Near the old dead pine?" she asked. Don't worry Grandma we wont be swimming, I promise. Her face became white, she sighed. Time for you to hear why I don't like that place, and why it is cursed. 

Back in the 1930s when she and my Grandpa were a young couple, He was a lumberjack of sorts. They would cut the trees and float them down the rivers to the saw mill nearby. Long long hours meant he left early and came home late completely exhausted.  The old road the creek was on was a cut off road back then from the logging area to town. Even as a cut off the journey home for many men was just too much sometimes so some would occassionally stay with friends, and co workers or opt to stay at local family run bed and breakfasts. Most offered a hearty dinner, a warm bed and a small but filling breakfast. One payday my grandfather offered to let two of his coworkers bunk with him and my grandma for the weekend, instead of them making the long trip home. But they declined and said they were staying at a local familys place for the night and would continue home in the morning. With a handshake they were off.  The following Monday the coworkers never came to sign in. Nor the following day. Worried the sawmill foreman sent for the Sheriff. My grandpa was asked about the men to which he told the sheriff they were staying at a farm off the old cut off road. 

The Sheriff ordered his deputy to gather a few of the men outside and follow him to the house. On the way my grandpa was told that more than a few men from local saw mill crews and lumber jacks had been reported as missing. This was the first clue as to what may have happened to them. When they arrived at the run down old farm shack, he ordered the men to search the area incase the men were injured or something far worse had happened. 

My grandpa watched as the Sheriff entered the building after a young haggered looking woman opened the door. Suddenly the Sheriff staggered back outside, his arm outstretched with his pistol in his hand. He screamed orders for the occupants to come outside and now or he will start shooting. This prompted the men to all come running to see what was happening. Filing outside one by one, was an older woman, the younger woman, two young kids, one younger male and finally an older man covered with a bloody apron. The Sheriff ordered them to the ground, and for his deputy to hold guard over them. He then turned to the men, only those with the strongest dispositions need follow me in. He then looked to my grandpa, "you recon you can identify your friends Mr?" Yeah I suppose so, he said reluctantly. With obvious trepidation he followed the Sheriff into the small shack. Inside, the bodies of my grandpa's coworkers lay on a wooden table, partially butchered as if to prepare them for cooking. Their heads lay in a heap with other organs on the floor. 

Two of the men threw up on the spot, one passed out, the other three ran. Only my grandpa and the Sheriff remained. "They was eatin them men?" my grandpa asked. I think you dun know that answer the Sheriff replied. A shout from outside made both men rush out, "Sheriff look what we found", one of the others yelled. They followed the calls and walked down to the little creek where they found what were the remains of two more men, half eaten, by gators and what they guessed, the family.  A low hissing alerted them to a nearby Gator, taking in the morning sun on a fallen log. Get some more men down here out here he yelled to anyone who could hear. But by the time more help had arrived in the way of law enforcement, a mob of workers from around the area had arrived. 

"The two lawmen were over run and held while the crowd quickly hung the family, all 4 in the large pine tree beside the house. The sound of sirens scattered the crowd, the two lawmen and my grandpa were left there standing in the aftermath, 4 victims of the family, and 4 dead murderers and two yunguns hanging from that tree". 

No, it weren't right what that crowd did, your grandpa wanted them to be arrested proper like, those yonguns didnt deserve that, but the crowd didnt care bout that" she said. Nothing happened to the crowd, no body knew nothin after that. Few years later the tree had died and the house dun burned down all mysterious and all. Lightening they say hit that place. About a year after that, the drownings started, so they put in the overflow drainage, don't really know why. Maybe they were trying to make that place presentable, make it feel safe. No use, too many died there. Left a dark stain on that part of them woods.