Search for the Silver Swamp Monster (A Griffin Ghostley Adventure Book 1) Page 2

  “Ready?” I whisper.

  “Ready.”

  Mindy nods confidently as the dogs impatiently look on, so I slowly begin to open one of the doors. It creaks eerily on its rusty hinges, the bottom scraping across a thin patch of dried grass. Waves of warm, stifling darkness ooze out of the opening. I remove the two flashlights from my coat pocket, handing one to Mindy. We click them on, ready to be sleuths.

  “Wanted–one thin man behind a silk blanket,” I say with an uneasy smile as I aim the beam of light into the barn. “Let’s go.”

  I bravely lead the way inside as Mindy closely follows. But as Alpha, Beta and Gamma have been eagerly awaiting a resolution to our Halloween adventure, they bound ahead into the darkness, brushing past us to sniff out the contents of the stuffy interior.

  “Hey, wait up!” I shout, rushing ahead to keep the trio out of any potential trouble. But my canine companions spread out as fast as the brilliant streaks of an exploding firework and disappear into the gloom.

  “Alpha! Beta! Get back here!” Mindy sharply calls out to them. “You, too, Gamma,” she adds with a hint of amusement.

  “I didn’t think Gamma could run that fast either,” I reply with a chuckle, noting Mindy’s smile visible in the glow of the flashlights. “But then I never– Ugh! What is that?”

  I flinch and jump back, stretching out an arm to prevent Mindy from advancing. Then I crazily comb my fingers across my face to remove some tangled strands of ancient spider webbing that I had just blindly walked into like an unsuspecting fly.

  “What’s the matter, Griffin?”

  “Spider webs. And right in my face!” I wipe away a few silky strings off my cheeks as Mindy gets a good laugh at my expense, but I soon join her, relieved that this was the worst obstacle we have discovered so far.

  “Gross,” she says, still laughing.

  “Times ten,” I reply. “And you can stop laughing now, Mindy.”

  “I’ll try, but it’s not easy when…”

  Her words drift off as her smile fades, replaced by a most serious expression. “What are you thinking about?”

  “I’m thinking about what spider webs are made of,” she answers in an equally serious voice, looking at me as our gazes lock.

  “Silk!” we both reply at the same time.

  “As in that silk blanket the clue says is covering up a very thin man,” Mindy continues. “And by your reaction to the spider web, there must be quite a bit of that stuff around here.”

  I slowly aim my flashlight in a circular motion about the barn, illuminating various sections of the dilapidated building, surprised at what I see. “Enough to weave into several blankets. Look at all the webs hanging from the rafters and spun about all those rusty tools hung against the wall.”

  We slowly walk toward one wall where a display of old rakes, crowbars, pitchforks, straw brooms, hammers, handsaws and other tools are cloaked with layer upon layer of spider webs built up over the years. An old metal wheelbarrow stands nearby, equally bound with webs. A pungent scent of rotting hay fills the vast room.

  “Apparently there have been some active arachnids hanging out in this place,” Mindy jokes as she wanders about, pleased that I responded with a mirthful grunt at her choice of words.

  All at once, Alpha, Beta and Gamma begin to bark in unison, rushing toward the partially open door. Being closer to it, I beat them to the entrance and close it before they can bolt out.

  “What’s the matter with you three?” I ask, tilting my head to one side as I question their sudden change in behavior while they paw at the door. “Is someone out there?”

  Then Mindy screams and drops her flashlight, causing me and the dogs to spin around and rush to her aid.

  “What’s the matter?” I shout. “Are you hurt? Or did you only see a mouse?”

  Mindy sighs loudly, indicating that she is quite unhurt and unappreciative of me believing that a little mouse would scare her so. “I’m fine,” she replies, retrieving her flashlight and signaling for me to come closer. “And while there may or may not be someone outside, there is definitely someone else in here. Look!”

  As we both shine our lights at one corner of the barn thick beyond belief with cobwebs from floor to ceiling, I can’t help but see the eerie outline of a person standing behind the taut blanket of spidery handiwork, unmoving and about as thin as thin can be. Bone thin, in fact. Because you see, behind this silky blanket of dusty spider webbing stands a full-size skeleton, its bare bones all chalky white, its posture slightly askew, and its eyeless skull looking down upon us with a hideous smile as if daring us to take another step closer.

  The First Clue

  “That is one thin thin man,” Mindy says with a hint of apprehension in her voice. She waves her flashlight around the shadowy corner of the barn as if expecting another skeleton to pop out of the dark and chase us.

  “I don’t think there are any more of his companions rattling about,” I calmly assure her as Alpha, Beta and Gamma sniff about the edges of the webby tapestry. “Hey, step back!” I tell the nosy trio, shooing them away. “Bones, you know,” I quip to Mindy. She nods, seemingly a little more at ease.

  “Well, no doubt this individual is the answer to our first clue,” she says. “We found a thin man behind a silk blanket, just as we were instructed. But now what? He certainly can’t speak–at least I hope he doesn’t–so how can he help us?”

  “Unless the Silver Swamp monster cast a talking spell on him,” I reply, attempting a second joke. But Mindy isn’t very amused this time, so I put on my serious, detective face. “Let’s examine him more closely.” I slowly aim the beam of my flashlight over the webbed skeleton, moving it left to right and from top to bottom, scrutinizing every inch of the corpse’s remains.

  “I wonder who he was?” Mindy whispers, keeping her eyes peeled for any hint of a clue.

  “Maybe an enemy of the swamp monster,” I guess. “Or possibly one of its helpers who had betrayed that watery ghoul. Either way, the simple lesson is–don’t get mixed up with the Silver Swamp monster.”

  “A lesson already learned,” Mindy answers. “And I didn’t even need to sit in a classroom for that one.”

  “Same here,” I reply distantly as my attention is again focused on the beam of light that I lower bit by bit and left to right over the skeleton. I am about halfway down the length of the corpse when my eyes catch a small object. I freeze, the ray of bright light aimed directly on the skeleton’s bony right hand. “Uh, Mindy, I think I found something. Take a look at this.”

  “What’d you see?” she asks, adding her light to mine.

  The increased illumination allows us to see through the layers of dusty cobwebs that shield the bones from our touch. The fingers of the right hand point downward, but the thumb and index finger are slightly curled toward each other as if holding something.

  “Mindy, this guy is clutching a folded slip of paper in his hand.”

  “You’re right,” she says as she noses up for a better view, but not daring to touch the thick layer of cobwebs in front of it. “That has to be the clue you’re looking for, Griffin.” She looks at me with a straight face. “Stick your hand in there and take it. Go ahead. Grab it. You can do it.”

  I turn my head toward her in surprise. “You want me to do what?”

  “You heard me,” she continues with encouragement, though I believe her words are more of a dare. “Just punch a hole through those webs and remove the slip of paper. Easy as pie. You’re a great Halloween detective, after all. It’s time to earn your pay.”

  I grunt with faint amusement. “First, I’m not getting paid to do this. And second–and more importantly–I’m not insane. How do you know there still isn’t a cluster of spiders inside?” Mindy furrows her brow in mild confusion. “Yes, that’s what a group of spiders is called, Mindy–a cluster. Or a clutter.”

  “Really, detective?”

  “Really.”

  “And I suppose there’ll be a test o
n those terms afterward.”

  “Well, probably not a test.” I offer a faint smirk. “And now adding to my second point,” I continue as I scan the nearby ground for a small piece of wood, “what if that skeleton grabs my hand?”

  “It’s a skeleton,” she says with a mild sigh of exasperation. “It’s dead.”

  “Maybe so, but–ah, found something!” I say, holding up a thin maple stick that perhaps a small animal tucked away here over the years. “But if the thin man was once associated with or was under the spell of the swamp monster, I’m taking no chances. So here’s the logical way to proceed,” I tell her. “Watch and learn.”

  “I’ll definitely watch…” she mutters good-naturedly.

  I push the sharpest point of the stick into the spider web directly in front of the skeleton’s right hand and slowly turn the stick about in a circular motion as if making cotton candy, boring a hole into the thick fabric-like material. The silky strands resist at first, not wanting to break, as if having a mind of their own. Some swamp monster magic at work perhaps? But eventually the webbing relents and I form an opening larger than my fist. I’m more than elated that no spiders rush out from behind the wall of webs. Mindy is too.

  “So far, so good,” I whisper, glancing at her with a hopeful smile. “Now for the real test.” I toss aside the maple stick and slowly move my hand toward the hole in the web blanket.

  “Be careful!” Mindy warns, steadily aiming the light my way.

  “I promise,” I reply, grateful that she is worried for my safety. I place my hand inside and take the piece of paper between my thumb and first two fingers as my heart beats rapidly. A part of me still worries that a line of huge, hairy spiders will come rushing out of the opening and run up my arm, but none do. I breathe a little easier and tug at the note, but the skeleton does not want to release it.

  “Hurry, Griffin!” Mindy softly says, urging me on as Alpha, Beta and Gamma nervously pace about.

  Finally, I give one more forceful tug and remove the paper from the stranger’s bony fingers. I hold it up triumphantly, beaming with pride. “You were right, Mindy. Easy as pie.”

  “What does it say?”

  “Let me take a look.” As I shine my flashlight onto the paper, I stare at a number written in black ink, pausing for a moment to make sure I am reading it correctly. “It just reads 90.” I hand the paper to Mindy.

  “Ninety?” She reads it and nods. “You’re right. Ninety. That must be the first number in the vault’s combination.”

  “And only two more to go. Now on to the next clue,” I eagerly reply, removing the folded map from my pocket.

  “Let’s get out of here first,” Mindy urges. “It’s lighter outside and this place is starting to give me the creeps.”

  She and my three canine companions follow me to the door. I swing it open and the warm glow of the orange setting sun envelopes us in the cool air of approaching twilight. “Now about that second clue.”

  But before I can unfold the map, Alpha, Beta and Gamma begin to jump about and whimper as if sensing that something is wrong. I sense it too, but cannot identify the uneasy feeling weighing down upon me. Something seems out of place as I glance at Mindy for her opinion while placing the map back in my pocket.

  “Something’s not right,” she mutters as we both gaze about the countryside while the three dogs stand in front of us and stare ahead with growing unease. “But what?”

  I look out beyond the dried patch of tall grass and weeds just ahead to where the pumpkin patch sits. “Something is not right,” I whisper, suddenly noticing the wooden pole for the scarecrow. Only now the scarecrow is missing from its post. Gone. Out of sight. But how could that be?

  Then something stirs in the tall grass ahead, moving in our direction. Moving fast.

  Pumpkin Hunting

  “Something’s in the tall grass,” I tell Mindy, my voice barely above a whisper. I try my best to appear calm and in control of the situation.

  “And it’s heading directly toward us!” she exclaims, grabbing my shoulder with one hand.

  “Ow, not so tight, Min!” I wince in pain as my calm demeanor evaporates. “It feels like a hawk is trying to carry me away.”

  “Sorry,” she replies, releasing her grip.

  Alpha, Beta and Gamma, poised in front of us and ready to bolt at anything that might emerge through the grass and weeds, take turns growling at the approaching danger, their heads jutting forward, their teeth bared.

  As the sun sets behind a thicket of bony trees to the southwest, a full moon begins to rise above the hills on the opposite horizon. But the line of dry grass just ahead is what grabs our attention. Slowly, two brown gloved hands poke through the brittle vegetation, separating it like a curtain. The eerie, crookedly grinning face of a scarecrow emerges. It is hunched over to keep concealed in the grass, its wide vacant eyes surrounded by dark circles as bits of yellow straw stick out of its collar, sleeves and checkered cloth hat sewn onto its head. It suddenly leaps forward and stops a few feet in front of the dogs, now looming over them at full height, eyeing them with a glaring look of contempt that it slowly aims at Mindy and me.

  “You are not allowed in my pumpkin patch!” it shouts in a raspy, sinister voice. “Be gone at once before I summon an army of skeletons to chase you off this land–or worse!” The scarecrow utters a most hideous laugh, causing Mindy to grab my shoulder again even tighter than before. “Would you prefer to end up like the thin man in the barn, forever trapped behind your own silk blanket?”

  Alpha, Beta and Gamma continue to growl, each taking one step forward and keeping the scarecrow at bay. And though Mindy puts on a brave face, I can see that she fears the worst might happen if we don’t leave now. But I know I have no other choice but to go forward and solve the second clue. Why would the Silver Swamp monster give me this challenge and then block my way? It is testing me, I reason, to see if I have the determination to go forward. But I will not doubt my abilities or self-confidence. I’ve already solved the first clue, and nothing–not even a scarecrow probably under the spell of the swamp monster–is going to prevent me from figuring out the answer to the second one.

  I glance at Mindy with a faint smile, and then after shaking off her talon-like hand from my shoulder, I whistle sharply at the dogs in the cool autumn twilight. “Alpha! Beta! Gamma!” I point at the scarecrow and whistle the familiar signal a second time. “After him, gang!”

  And off they go as if champion race horses just released out of the gate. The barking trio charge at the scarecrow whose eyes open wide in surprised horror, no doubt not having expected that I would be accompanied by my canine companions as well as a trusted classmate. The scarecrow scowls at me with a hiss and spins around just moments before the dogs are upon him. It flees back into the tall grass and weeds, and I hear it disappear farther into the encroaching gloom.

  “Alpha! Beta! Gamma!” I whistle once more and call back my trusty trio before they get lost in the commotion. They reluctantly turn around and hurry back, but not before sending off a final volley of sharp barks in the scarecrow’s general direction as if warning him never to return.

  “Good dogs!” I tell them as Mindy and I kneel down to pet them for their bravery. “You showed that old scarecrow who’s boss.”

  “They certainly did,” Mindy replies as Gamma nuzzles up to her for a few extra scratches behind the ears. “And let’s hope that scarecrow gets the message the first time and never returns.”

  The dogs begin to calm down as I stand up and gaze toward the pumpkin patch, the wooden post still empty of its straw-filled watcher. “I don’t think he will, Mindy. This was just a reminder from the swamp monster telling us that it’s still in charge of this twisted game. And speaking of which…” I remove the map and unfold it as Mindy stands beside me. “Time for clue two.”

  Mindy clicks on her flashlight and aims it at the map so I can better see in the quickly fading light. “What does it say?” she asks.

 
; I move my finger down to the bottom to the second clue, after which is a small image of the nearby pumpkin patch. This is what it reads.

  Here’s a problem you must FACE. Seek the pumpkin that’s out of place.

  “Well, no references to skeletons or cobwebs in those two lines, but what could it mean?” Mindy wonders aloud. “How could a pumpkin be out of place in a pumpkin patch, of all places?”

  “And why is the word FACE written in capital letters?” I reply, adding to the mystery. “A clue within a clue perhaps?”

  “I guess we’ll have to move on to the pumpkin patch to find out,” Mindy says with a determined look.

  “My thought exactly,” I reply as I place the map back inside my coat pocket. “Let’s go!”

  I lead the way through the patch of tall grass and weeds, not expecting to run into the scarecrow again yet keeping a cautious eye out for him nonetheless. Shortly after, we emerge through the opposite end of the grassy plot and step into the pumpkin patch. We are faced with row upon long row of large leafy vines attached to pumpkins of various sizes, hundreds of them hugging the ground as if not wanting to be disturbed from their evening sleep. In the middle of the patch is the empty wooden post where the scarecrow once kept watch.

  Mindy slaps a hand to her forehead in apparent disbelief. “With all these pumpkins to look at, how are we ever going to seek the one that is somehow out of place?”

  “One at a time,” I tell her, trying to sound confident, not wanting to say that it does seem like an impossible task. “Perhaps we should break up to cover more ground in less time,” I suggest.

  “Good idea.”

  “Mindy, you take Alpha and Beta with you and start searching on the left side. Gamma and I will begin on the right. Carefully walk up and down each row so we don’t miss a thing,” I say, gently slapping my knees as a signal for Gamma to approach. “And if you find anything, give a holler.”