Elizabeth's Journal

Entry Four

Oct. 15th, 2018

When I was around eleven, I went exploring my grandparent's creek with my little brother. We went there often, grandma lived out in the country, and it was a good place to spend the weekend and get fresh air.

On this particular time, we entered on the northeast end, behind the silo and brush-pile. The silo was empty, and we weren't allowed inside because the top was prone to crumble and send concrete chunks hurtling down the inside, but I happened to know that it was a wonderful hideout. But that is a story for another time.

The two of us walked through the trees dodging spiderwebs until we reached the creek. We followed the creek, catching minnows and racing twigs and leafs in the current. I caught fifteen little frogs and tried to make a "jail" to hold them, but they were too small, so the jail closed it's doors. Dear Brother tried to make a bridge out of rocks, but fell in. I didn't laugh, grandma had taught us how dangerous the creek was.

I remember when she told me how, once, a long time ago, a little girl and her brother had gone playing in this creek, but the little boy went too deep. He couldn't swim, and his older sister was still to young to understand what was happening, so he drowned. I knew I should be thankful that it was shallow water. After all, Dear Brother was only seven, and the water was freezing. As annoying as he was, I cared for him, I guess...

Dear Brother was upset, but I knew how to cheer him up. I told him to wait there and stay out of the water, then I walked around the bend to where I knew there was a layer of clay exposed in the bank. I stood on tiptoes to reach the band of clay, and scooped out several large globs of it. A little dirt fell when I did so, but not much. When I returned triumphant, Dear Brother perked up instantly. We sat and talked while we shaped our clay. Dear brother made a bowl-thing and I made a fat elephant. We left our creations behind and continued along the creek. At one point I had to carry him because the water was too deep for his boots, but mine were bigger. We had almost reached the other bridge that marked the end of grandma's property by this point. We were having fun, it was a wonderful, warm day in early spring.

Once we reached the bridge, we sat beneath it and skipped rocks. I could skip them three to four times before the rock would sink beneath the water, whereas Dear Brother couldn't skip it more than once. I got up to go do something else while he continued, saying "I'll get it this time for sure," I crouched on the bank and watched little red fish jump out of the water like dolphins, Dear Brother had resorted to throwing the biggest rocks he could carry into the water. One of his rocks left half of my body drenched. I sat there, shocked, hair dripping, and then I charged into the water and splashed him back which resulted in all out war. I was going easy on him, so he had me backing up when I stopped. Right behind me was a coyote skeleton.

"Eewww! eww eww eww eww!" and we were both scrambling to get out of the water as fast as possible. Dear Brother and I sat on the bank and stared at the skeleton. It was sitting like a person, with it's back legs stretched out in front of it, leaning on the column supporting the bridge. Our excitement and joy slowly fizzled out as we thought about the skeleton more. How did it get in that position? Did it fall off the bridge and die? It must have been a huge coyote when it was alive, bigger than our dog, Marla, so what killed it? None of it's bones were broken, not even it's skull. Also, while the parts of it that were out of the water were just bone, the paws and the tail that were in the water still had fur and skin. The minnows and flies were eating at it. Dear Brother blurted out "What if the thing that killed it is still here!"

While I didn't think that was true, I didn't want to find out either. We scrambled up the bank and raced down the road, back to the house. As I looked over my shoulder, it was too easy to picture a shambling skeleton climbing out of the creek and following us home. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. "Run!" And we ran faster.

When we finally got inside the house Dear Brother was wheezing. His cheeks were pink, and the blond hair that we shared was standing up in spikes that resembled bedhead. A contagious smile spread across his features. "You were scared." And we both laughed until our sides hurt.

The next day my Uncle James and cousin Elaine came over to grandma's house. Me and Dear Brother took her to see the skeleton.

"What do you think?" I asked her,

"That's really gross, and you were in the water with that thing? Nasty."

"Don't be mean!" Dear Brother couldn't help it, he and Elaine didn't get along at all. He threw some stones at the skeleton.

"I would never be mean to 'lizabeth, dum-dum." She said as she picked up a particularly large stone and hefted it over the side of the bridge.

"C'mon guys, lets go." I tried to stop the fight, but the silent glares back and forth were never-ending.

The next day, Dear Brother, Elaine, and myself went down to the bridge again, but the skeleton was gone.

"Where did it go!"

We raced down to the spot where the skeleton had once been, but Elaine froze and pointed to the bank. There, a trail of paw-prints showed where something had crawled out of the water and disappeared among the trees.

The prints were still wet.