The Werewolf of Fever Swamp

7

Bent low to the ground, the man from the hut moved steadily after us, taking long strides. His hands bobbed at his sides. He was breathing hard, and his mouth was open, revealing the jagged teeth.

"Run!" Emily cried. "Run, Grady!"

We were following a narrow path between tall weeds. The trees thinned out. We ran through shadow and sunlight and back into shadow.

"Emily — wait up!" I called breathlessly. But she didn't slow down.

A long, narrow pond appeared to our left. Strange trees lifted up from the middle of the water. The slender trunks were surrounded by a thicket of dark roots. Mangrove trees.

I wanted to stop and look at the eerie-looking trees. But this wasn't the time for sightseeing.

We ran along the edge of the pond, our sandals sinking into the marshy ground. Then, my chest heaving, my throat choked and dry, I followed Emily as the path curved into the trees.

A sharp pain in my side made me cry out. I stopped running. I gasped for breath.

"Hey — he's gone," Emily said, swallowing hard. She stopped a few yards ahead of me and leaned against a tree trunk. "We lost him."

I bent over, trying to force away the pain in my side. After a short while, my breathing slowed to normal. "Weird," I said. I couldn't think of anything else.

"Yeah. Weird," Emily agreed. She walked back to me and pulled me up straight. "You okay?"

"I guess." At least the pain had faded away. I always get a pain in my right side when I run a long time. This one was worse than usual. I usually don't have to run for my life!

"Come on," Emily said. She let go of me and started walking quickly, following the path.

"Hey, this looks familiar," I said. I began to feel a little better. I started to jog. We passed clusters of trees and ferns that looked familiar. I could see our footprints in the sandy ground, going the other way.

A short while later, our back yard came into view. "Home sweet home!" I cried.

Emily and I stepped out from the low trees and began running across the grass toward the back of the house.

Mom and Dad were in the back yard setting up outdoor furniture. Dad was lowering an umbrella into the white umbrella table. Mom was washing off the white lawn chairs with the garden hose.

"Hey — welcome back," Dad said, smiling.

"We thought you got lost," Mom said.

"We did!" I cried breathlessly.

Mom turned off the nozzle, stopping the spray of water. "You what?"

"A man chased us!" Emily exclaimed. "A strange man with long white hair."

"He lives in a hut. In the middle of the swamp," I added, dropping down into one of the lawn chairs. It was wet, but I didn't care.

"Huh? He chased you?" Dad's eyes narrowed in alarm. Then he said, "I heard in town there's a swamp hermit out there."

"Yes, he chased us!" Emily repeated. Her normally pale face was bright red. Her hair had come loose and fell wildly around her face. "It — it was scary."

"A guy in the hardware store told me about him," Dad said. "Said he was strange, but perfectly harmless. No one knows his name."

"Harmless?" Emily cried. "Then why did he chase us?"

Dad shrugged. "I'm only repeating what I heard. Evidently he's lived in the swamp most of his life. By himself. He never comes to town."

Mom dropped the hose and walked over to Emily. She placed a hand on Emily's shoulder. In the bright sunlight, they looked like sisters. They're both tall and thin, with long, straight blonde hair. I look more like my dad. Wavy brown hair. Dark eyes. A little chunky.

"Maybe they shouldn't go back in the swamp by themselves," Mom said, biting her lower lip fretfully. She started to gather Emily's hair back up into a ponytail.

"The hermit is supposed to be completely harmless," Dad repeated. He was still struggling to lower the umbrella into the concrete base. Every time he lowered it, he missed the opening.

"Here, Dad. I'll help you." I scooted under the table and guided the umbrella stem into the base.

"Don't worry," Emily said. "You won't catch me back in that swamp." She scratched both shoulders. "I'm going to be itchy for the rest of my life!" she groaned.

"We saw a lot of neat things," I said, starting to feel normal again. "A peat bog and mangrove trees…"

"I told you this was going to be an experience," Dad said, arranging the white chairs around the table.

"Some experience," Emily grumbled, rolling her eyes. "I'm going in to take a shower. Maybe if I stay in it for an hour or so, I'll stop itching."

Mom shook her head, watching Emily stomp toward the back door. "This is going to be a hard year for Em," she muttered.

Dad wiped his dirty hands on the sides of his jeans. "Come with me, Grady," he said, motioning for me to follow him. "Time to feed the deer."

We talked more about the swamp at dinner. Dad told us stories about how they hunted and trapped the swamp deer that he was using for his experiment.

Dad and his helpers searched the South American jungles for weeks. They used tranquilizer guns to capture the deer. Then they had to bring in helicopters to pull the deer out, and the deer were not too happy about flying.

"The swamp you two were exploring this afternoon," he said, twirling his spaghetti. "Know what it's called? Fever Swamp. That's what the local people call it, anyway."

"Why?" Emily asked. "Because it's so hot in there?"

Dad chewed and swallowed a mouthful of spaghetti. He had orange splotches of tomato sauce on both sides of his mouth. "I don't know why it's called Fever Swamp. But I'm sure we'll find out eventually."

"It was probably discovered by a guy named Mr. Fever," Mom joked.

"I want to go home to Vermont!" Emily wailed.

After dinner, I found myself feeling a little homesick, too. I took a tennis ball out to the back of the house. I thought maybe I could bounce it off the wall and catch it the way I had done back home.

But the deer pen was in the way.

I thought about my two best friends back in Burlington, Ben and Adam. We had lived on the same block and used to hang out after dinner. We'd throw a ball around or walk down to the playground and just mess around.

Staring at the deer, who milled silently at one end of the pen, I realized I really missed my friends. I wondered what they were doing right now. Probably hanging out in Ben's back yard.

Feeling glum, I was about to go back inside and see what was on TV — when a hand grabbed me from behind.

The swamp hermit!