That Night at Grandpa's (And Other Scary Stories)

Escape of the Swamp Thing

Rumors say the "Swamp Thing" (S.T.) was actually the Corn Ghost of Indiana. The north was too cold and it decided to move south and take in some rays. The Southern marshlands called "The Bayou" were so inviting the Corn Ghost made its new home not far from a camping resort ... where we were to stay. Perhaps he recognized the sound of our minivan.

We unpacked at the remotest cabin in The Bayou, with each of my children assisting in their own way. Whatever quirks each of them had they got honestly. My oldest son, half dazed and listening to his tunes, grabbed the coolers and carried them inside, earbuds intact. He wore his earbuds to bed. I think he wore them whether he was listening to tunes or not.

My daughter, a very helpful and compliant soul, carried in anything with a strap. Her younger siblings swore she could scream so high and loud it'd shatter glass, but I had my doubts.

Our "middle child" carried in the fun & game bags. We enrolled him in Tae Kwon Do due mostly to a nervous tic he had. When excited, his fists would punch uncontrollably straight up into the air. We hoped that, with training, he could learn some control. Although ranking up in several belts, all we noticed was a rather obnoxious, "Hiy-yah!" being added to each punch.

Finally, my youngest son bolted after a butterfly ... then a chipmunk ... then brought something to show his brother. However ornery he may look he makes up for with hugs and kisses. He was five and still wet the bed occasionally, or on anything, or anyone, that got him too excited at a moment's notice. The way our kids unpack is pretty much the way they show us affection--in their own way.

Then there's my wife. Well, what can I say. She's as sweet and pretty as the day is long. Even though we've been married for twenty years my heart still stops when I see her walk into a room. We're in love--more now than ever. We needed this getaway to unwind and reconnect with each other, the kids, and nature too. Probably not in the same way the Bayou was about to dish out that Fall Break weekend.

The first couple of days were great. We explored, grilled out, and napped a lot. Life was good. We decided to try out a restaurant in town so everyone dressed a little nicer. My wife wore the fancy necklace I gave her for our anniversary. Everything was perfect, that is, until we got home and the kids wanted to play a quick game of kickball before calling it a night. That's when the ST saw the necklace.

We went into the cabin to wash up for bed. There were a few dishes the Mrs wanted to take care of despite my objections and flirtations. As she washed the dishes by the light of an old lantern, her necklace glistened and cast rainbows on the cabinets and window. This caught the eye of the ST, who hid behind each tree on his way to get a closer look.

My wife thought she saw something move in the swamp. She called me to the kitchen window. I gave a thorough look, but could help myself no longer--I had to kiss the beautiful woman in front of me! Our daughter tried to break us up, "No! No! NO!" And after several smooches and one long smolder, we quit. I sent my daughter and the boys off to bed. My wife asked me if I would help with her necklace, so I unclasped it for her. She left it hang on a hook by the window, took my hand and escorted me to the loveseat. The necklace wobbled in the lantern light casting its magical colors.

Curiosity killed the ST. It just had to get a closer look at that magical jewel. It stood entranced right by the window. My daughter snuck in to get one last drink of water from the kitchen sink. The scream she let out made me want to change my vote about it breaking glass. The hypnotized ST snapped to, fell straight onto its back, and then rolled behind a tree. I covered my daughter's mouth so we'd have glassware to use, and so the Bayou Police wouldn't show up. My daughter kept pointing out the window. I pulled away my hand and she launched into a babbling spree that wouldn't stop until I took a flashlight outside. "I don't see footprints or anything here sissy," I said. "Not now anyway."

"Maybe something will show up in the morning," my wife suggested. As she turned to push our daughter toward bed, she gave me "that look" through the window and baited me with her inviting finger. I took the hint, brushed my teeth, and went to bed.

It took a few hours, but the curious creature made its move. It had to have the necklace. After tapping on the kitchen window a few times it realized it couldn't get to its prize. So it snuck into the front door. That's when things got really interesting.

By some sheer miracle my oldest heard the tapping on the kitchen window and came out to investigate. This hindered the ST from finally grabbing the necklace and making an escape. It blended in by the coat rack while my oldest grabbed some sandwiches from the fridge, sat in the recliner, and listened to his tunes.

The ST was headed off again by other intruders. My daughter brought my youngest out to get a drink of water. She noticed the necklace and gave it a little push. The colors carouselled. But as my youngest lifted his drinking glass, he noticed the hairy beast/coat rack reaching for the gem. The ST noticed his leg strangely warmed. My daughter, hearing the familiar sound of trickling water turned to make her eyes move from the floor up the mobile coat rack and ... screamed! The vocal siren shattered the youngest's glass, caused the ST to groan and grasp its ears, and my wife and I to roll out of bed ... literally ... tangled in bed sheets ... trapped and useless.

My oldest finished another sandwich. Our middle child made his entrance, and immediately went into a punching frenzy. The ST had never been hit "there" before, but soon learned why men double over, only to get a solid blue-belt strike to the face. "Hi-yah!" By the time my wife and I made our escape from the bedsheet straight-jacket, the screaming, peeing, punching part of our family convinced the ST to bear-crawl an escape into the night.

Our oldest saw us come in to stop and stare. He took his earbuds out and rose from the recliner with millions of crumbs falling to the floor still drinking a large glass of milk. From what we could tell, there was no other explanation that fit than what the kids were telling us was actually true ... possibly ... but the probability hung by a thread ... right next to the necklace still safe on its hook.

The ST did catch a glimpse of the necklace and its swirling rainbows the next couple of days of our vacation, but was able to shake off the spell and turn away.

My wife thought she saw something in the swamp the next couple of nights as well. Each time I ignored all notions, but still locked the door, more for the Swamp Thing's safety than ours.