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2025-04-27
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Home Or Something Like It

Summary:

Roland and Toby hadn't been told about the workings their grannie did around the homestead, which was fine until one day it very much was not fine.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Roland Dack was bone-deep weary but refused to let himself fall asleep this close to the end. He felt like if he did, he wouldn’t wake up again. He was almost home but he didn’t want the Spanish-speaking colored man driving the wagon to know that, so Roland leaned up against the hard crates of tomatoes and peppers destined for the rail depot, pulling at the collar of his grey shirt to try to get some relief from the heat. Roland would be getting off before the depot which was just as well since he was sick to death of railroads. 

He’d lost track of how many days he had been traveling since he got Aunt Myrtle’s letter saying near everyone was sick, and this after Granny Mae passed last year. She’d known all the herblore and cures and might could’ve helped keep everyone from getting sick. Roland thought she’d had a touch of the Sight but they didn’t talk about that. Aunt Gloria, the youngest of Granny Mae’s three daughters, had tried her best but as far as Roland knew nothing much ever came of it. Roland had tried to eavesdrop when Grannie Mae and Aunt Gloria would talk, but they chased him off saying he was too young and it was women’s business anyway. Mama and her older sister Myrtle didn’t have the Sight either as far as Roland knew. No one seemed to expect Roland or Toby to have it since they were boys, and Roland expected they were right. Toby was always drawn to the water in a way Roland never was, but Roland figured that was just like he had itchy feet and couldn’t stand the thought of staying on their own land forever. Right now Toby was working on a trading vessel going up and down the coast from St. Augustine to Charleston every few weeks so there was no telling when he’d get Aunt Myrtle’s letter. Last he’d heard from Toby, he’d said he was thinking of maybe going to New Orleans eventually since that was a busier port. They were supposed to have some strange goings on over there, like maybe they had some other kind of magic different from the Sight. Maybe Toby would get to see some of that. 

The angry chitter of a couple of squirrels broke into his thoughts as the pair rattled the branches of a nearby pine tree. One jumped to a larger branch and then turned to argue when the second one followed. Quick as a wink a hawk swooped down through a gap in the canopy to snatch up the first squirrel and fly away, leaving a dribble of blood on the reddish dirt in front of the mules pulling the wagon. The second squirrel lept back but missed the branch and fell to the ground somewhere Roland couldn’t see. 

Roland shook his head at the drama and then fixed his eyes on the smoke plume curling above a cypress tree down the way. The smoke was practically a landmark here, coming out of a crack in the earth. Some fools had tried to see if they could find where it came from - the crack wasn’t quite enough to fit a body in, even if the smoke weren’t blistering hot - but just ended up giving themselves blisters and singed lungs for their trouble. Plants had a hard time growing nearby and small animals and birds avoided the area so Roland and Toby had avoided it too when they were boys and the woods had been their kingdom. 

Thinking of birds, Roland tried to listen to the bird calls to see how many he could catch as a way to keep awake while sitting in the burning sun and stifling air. Some of the birds had been in the south too but he heard a few here and there that had been absent in the months he poured gallons of sweat and some amount of blood into the rail lines for Florida East Coast Railway. Even the ones that had been down there had been hard to hear over all the men and hammers and wagons hauling supplies, and the trees nearby had been cut away to clear the path for the rail line and make the camp fires as the tents the men slept in crept down the line week by week. The birdsong was one more piece fitting into place. He wasn’t all the way home yet, he couldn’t rest, but … maybe soon. 


Toby pulled at the collar of his grey shirt, looking forward to a rest. It felt like he’d walked miles instead of blocks to the boarding house he stayed at sometimes when his ship the Pearlie Mae was in Charleston. It would’ve been cheaper to stay on the ship but he felt like he’d been on the move for ages and he wanted a lie down in his own space that felt at least a little bit like home. Or if not home, then at least somewhere familiar. Home had trees and birds. This bustling city just had smoke climbing up from the steamer ships and the whistles of trains in the distance. Wearily he climbed the steps up to the front door.

“Afternoon, Mrs. Mincey,” Toby said as he entered the front room. 

“Afternoon yourself, Mr. Dack,” Mrs. Mincey replied from behind the counter. “Your usual room is available. Ah, you’ve gotten some mail too, a letter from Florida.” 

Toby thanked her and took the letter upstairs to the small room just a little bigger than the bed it contained. He walked into the room and slung his pack onto the floor. After he opened the shutters to let fresh air in he briefly debated reading the letter before deciding he’d just catch a nap. Toby laid on the bed and his eyes seemed to almost close themselves. He promised himself he’d read the letter after he rested. That would be soon enough. 


After Roland had gotten Aunt Myrtle's letter and collected his pay packet from FEC it was easy enough to help himself onto a night owl freight car bound north. It took him clear to the southern end of the St. Johns river, then he had a bit of luck - a steam ship bound north had lost a crewman to a broken leg so Roland was able to work for his ride doing all the dirty work. He was already familiar with some of it, having worked on a ship with Toby briefly. Getting west after Roland got off the steamer took longer, hitching a ride when he could and walking when he had to. He was lucky this driver had stopped for him - it had given his feet a welcome rest - but he didn’t want to tempt fate and get all his money robbed this close to the end so he’d lied about his destination. He’d known too many men who got hit over the head and their pockets emptied when they went into town to spend their money on liquor and women.

When the wagon finally came upon a bridge that Roland had known from boyhood - though calling it a bridge was being generous mind you - he rapped his knuckles twice on the side, grabbed his bag, and waved his thanks. The driver nodded in response and then clucked his mule team onward. The wagon kicked up some dust before the mules walked onto the rickety wood of the bridge. The tickle of the dust made Roland cough as he crossed the road and ventured into the strip of woods before the orchard started. 

Most of the rest of his journey would be through the trees, which was a mixed blessing. It would break up the sunlight from beating down on him but the summer air was just as thick in the sun as out of it. The gnats were happy enough in the shade, though, and seemed to delight in flying right at his ears and eyes while he tried to not trip over any roots or fallen branches. The footing was a bit easier once he was in the orchard itself. Even though the fruits were still undersized and green at this time of year, the orange trees perfumed the air with their sweet smell. Roland wondered if he’d be able to come back home for harvest. Some of the leaves looked a bit funny but hopefully that wouldn’t hurt the harvest too much. They needed the money to buy supplies and seeds for spring.

Finally he broke through the edge of the grove and saw the vegetable garden up ahead and the aged gray wood of the house rising over it like a broody hen. Maybe he’d been gone too long but the wood looked more weatherworn than he remembered. Aunt Gloria must be real sick, the weeds in the garden were getting out of hand and usually she’d never allow for such a thing. The house seemed quiet though. A cow lowed in the distance somewhere but no sounds came from inside the house. 

“Hello? Ma? Daddy?” Roland called. “Anyone home? Aunt Gloria?” 

He stomped up the front steps especially loudly to help announce himself - or at least the first two, then he stumbled and decided he didn’t need to abuse his feet further. He opened the front door to a dim hallway lit only by what light came from the windows in the west-facing rooms. “Ma? You in here?” 

After not getting an answer Roland slung his pack down to the floor and walked through the hall to the back door to see if anyone was in the kitchen out back but when he walked out onto the porch the kitchen was quiet and the chimney had no smoke coming out. Someone had left the ax lodged in the stump by the wood pile instead of putting it away properly. Daddy would have tanned the hide of Roland or Toby if they’d ever done that when they were boys. 

Maybe it was Sunday and they’d recovered enough to all go into town to church? They’d only gone on special occasions most of the time but maybe after feeling so poorly they felt the need to pay their respects, or maybe there was a picnic today. If it were a normal Sunday service Aunt Myrtle would’ve left something in the warm oven for when they got back but Roland was too tired to check. He sat heavily on one of the rocking chairs and rested his head back, taking in the welcome scene of home under half-closed eyes. 

He’d left Palatka on a Tuesday, and there was that night he’d slept in an abandoned barn which was a Thursday was’t it? Or was that Friday? As Roland tried to count the days his eyes seemed to close themselves. 


~ Come here, boy. ~

Toby gasped as he woke up. He looked around blearily as he licked his dry lips. He needed to drink something, he’d worked too much in the heat unloading the ship earlier. Rubbing a hand over his face, he stood up and made his way down the stairs and out into the hot late afternoon air. Even after dark it wouldn’t be properly cool, not at this time of year, but being near the water helped some. With that in mind Toby went to the docks that lined the water’s edge, leaving the letter from home forgotten in his room. Since he wasn’t in any particular hurry he considered finding somewhere new to wet his whistle. 

An hour later he hadn’t seen any place of interest along the boardwalk and was considering turning around when he stumbled on the uneven boards. He had to throw out his hand to catch himself on a stack of crates and before he pulled himself back up to be fully standing something caught his eye. In a gap between the boards he thought he saw - was that a cave? Toby shifted his head this way and that, realizing that there was a small cave entrance - he’d have to crouch - and something seemed to be glittering inside. Maybe a coin? Maybe a dropped piece of jewelry? No harm in finding out, it was nearly high tide now so the water wouldn’t be coming up too much behind him to flood the cave given the level it was at now. He went to the other side of the boardwalk and carefully put his feet onto the rocks jutting out above the water, using a hand on the support post of the boardwalk to help his balance. 

He had to crouch to get into the small opening of the cave but when he did he saw not only a silver dollar coin glinting up at him out of the sandy muck, there also seemed to be a dim orange light coming from within the cave itself. Toby had heard of some places being so old they’d built new buildings and roads right on top of what was already there, maybe Charleston had done that too. Or maybe there was a forgotten pirate treasure hidden away and some part of this cave had finally weathered away to reveal the back part to the sun again. It seemed a little smokey, like the wind was coming from the wrong way from a smith or maybe someone without a roof over their head had started a fire to cook a little something. 

Imagine if he did find some pirate treasure, though. Roland would never believe it. The only way to find out would be to take a look. As people continued about their business several inches and one thickness of wood over his head, Toby climbed up a bit to get to the waist-high opening, sat to get his legs inside, and then jumped in. 


~ Come here, boy. ~

Roland’s eyes jerked open and he realized he’d fallen asleep. The sky was darker now, not nighttime but a solid cloud cover blocked out the sun. Some rain would be welcome to cool things off but they didn’t look that heavy yet. Maybe in a few hours. 

Had someone called out? Looking around he realized the chicken coop was too quiet. Possibly they’d be left with a neighbor while everyone was ill but that would be odd. Even when the MacIvey’s went overnight to their daughter’s wedding to a store clerk north of here, Roland’s mother Emma had gone over to tend their animals along with Lester, one of the hired hands Roland had known since he was ten. Having someone stop by was easier than moving all those animals. 

Roland got up and walked towards the barn, stopping along the way at the water pump to ease his parched throat and splash water on his face. After ten good pushes on the lever the water begrudgingly came up and spurted out onto the dusty ground. Another push got water onto Roland’s face as he crouched down awkwardly to drink a little. Using his hands to wipe his face he walked towards the barn. He was still rubbing one hand on his face when he reached out to the barn door with the other to pull it open, then felt a sudden, stabbing pain. 

“Damnat-” He cut himself off and then looked over his shoulder as if his mama would appear out of thin air to chide him for swearing and blaspheming, then looked back at his hand. A splinter of wood stuck out of his flesh proud as a flag, red blood already oozing out from the wound. Grimacing, he gingerly removed the splinter then stepped into the barn hoping to see a spare clean cloth on a peg somewhere that he could hold till the bleeding stopped. No cloth was to be found but the back doors to the barn were hanging open, revealing the pasture beyond and a gaping hole in the fence. 

“Aw, hell,” Roland muttered. Everyone must’ve gone out to round up the herd. What would’ve done that to the fence anyhow? Roland crossed the pasture and saw tools scattered on the ground near a hole. Inside the hole were some shards of glass with something brownish smeared on them. The glass was strange out here on the edge of their property but otherwise it looked like someone stopped in the middle of putting in a new fence post and walked away. Why would the cattle have run off into the woods though? If the pasture was being repaired they would have been put somewhere else till the fence was secure again. Roland shook his head and went once more into the trees. 

The hoofprints were easy enough to follow. They must’ve gone a ways since Roland didn’t hear his family calling to each other in the distance. Roland wished one of the horses had stayed behind but he might as well wish that it was tacked up and smart enough to round up all the loose animals on its own while he was at it. At least his feet had recovered some while he napped. 

After a time Roland was wondering if he ought to turn back. He'd been walking quite a while but hadn't seen hide nor hair of his family or their animals, and the tracks showed the animals meandering about instead of going in any one direction. He still caught sight of the tracks often enough to keep him going, though. At least till it got too dark. 

It must've been later than he thought when he ventured out, and the cloud cover and tree canopy weren't helping any. He looked behind him but suddenly the woods he'd played in his whole childhood didn't look familiar. He thought he'd just passed a tree that had split in half in a bad storm some years back, but he couldn't see it. Roland glanced up at the sky through a break in the trees but the clouds were still covering any stars he might’ve seen. Taking a breath and slapping at a mosquito on his neck, something in his gut told him to turn a little and then venture off in that direction. He'd probably find the creek eventually if he went this way. 

It was almost too dark to see in front of his face - some homecoming this was, he should've stayed at the house and then he'd have a bed to sleep in at least - when he thought he saw a light ahead. He wasn't sure whose homestead it would be but it was better than spending the night in the woods. 

He was too busy edging between a few palmetto shrubs to look at the light properly until suddenly he was out in the clearing. He looked up and then startled - he was at the smoke plume, but the crack had gotten bigger. Much bigger.

And it was glowing. 

An amber light like a dying fire was coming up from the ground. It didn't feel right calling it a crack anymore - it looked to be ten feet wide and the ends of it tapered away into the brush. A few plants were canted at an awkward angle. They hadn’t had a chance to change the direction they were growing or die from root exposure, so this must’ve just happened somehow. 

Roland edged closer to it, boyish curiosity driving him to at least get a peek. He had heard of volcanoes in far away places but this couldn’t be that, could it? Weren’t they always like big, angry mountains? He was close enough to see down a bit, the smoke shifting through the air to conceal and reveal at its own whim. It smelled dusty like rocks but also like rotten plants somehow. A little ways down in the red dirt were some huge, craggy white rocks. Roland still couldn’t see what was causing the light so he pulled his bandana out of his pocket and held it over his nose and mouth. Toby would never believe this. 

Every now and then he had to sit on his rear and scoot but after the dirt crumbled underfoot with that first step, everything felt pretty stable. He should be able to climb out alright. The white rocks jutting out from the edges were placed almost like steps for a giant. 

As he climbed down the increasingly awkward rocks he thought maybe it was a skunk-drunk giant. With one leg longer than the other. Suddenly he saw the stone on the side get darker - water. He had come upon an underground spring. You could find them here and there but the nearest one Roland knew of was a ways off still. He wondered if this was connected to it. 

He reached out to the water. Toby probably would’ve jumped in with both feet but Roland carefully dipped his hand in, ignoring the sudden sting from the wound on his hand. It felt cold, a nice change after how hot the day was. The water had carved its way out of a tunnel, the smoke creeping out from an air pocket above it. 

Roland looked around for an interesting stone to remember this journey by when something that was not quite a pebble caught his eye. He squinted at it and realized it was Aunt Gloria’s favorite hair comb half buried in the silt. How did that end up here? He picked it up and put it in his pocket to give it back to her later. Gloria wore it most every day even though it was rare that she got to go into town where anyone besides family could admire it. She always liked her fripperies, she was bound to be mad as a wet cat if she lost it- 

~ Boy, come here. ~

He shook his head. It was like when he had smoked a cigarillo except instead of being in his chest it was all in his head, smokey and hot. He squinted into the smoke as if he would see more if he just stared hard enough. As if he would see something. Or someone. 

Sudden wetness coming up his legs told him he’d stepped into the water, shoes and all. He should go back. He would. He’d just look a little further first, then he’d go back. 


Toby had to kneel when he first entered the cave, the dampness of the sand seeping into the knee of his pant leg. He scooped up the coin and put it in his pocket before looking around. The rock walls twisted this way and that, but the roof went up a bit higher after the entrance and he could still see the orange glow. There only seemed to be the one path so it’d be easy enough to come back. He reached out absently and trailed his fingers along the rock as he stood and walked further in. The sounds of the busy city night life were already lost to his ears. 

Here and there were drips of water trailing down from the roof to the ground, like rivers on a map. Sometimes the light would catch on it and Toby’s hopes would rise that he found another coin, but it turned out to just be the damp rock. The trails of water became more frequent and every now and again Toby had to step around puddles of water. The sound of dripping water increased until it sounded like he was standing in a light summer storm, but the only things getting wet were his shoes and the bottoms of his pants. 

He didn’t feel like he was going downward but he must’ve been because there was more and more water, eventually he had to splash right through it if he wanted to keep investigating. It was nice and cool down here after the heat of the day. Toby was a bit surprised no one else seemed to have found this place - there were no initials scratched in the walls, no collections of things showing someone used it as a place to sleep instead of having to pay for a roof over their heads. If he and Roland had found a place like this as boys they would’ve explored it as much as they could, declared it their own kingdom for all the adventures they could dream up. Probably left a couple good sticks down here to use as swords. Toby wondered what Roland was up to now. Probably still working himself half to death on that rail line. That reminded Toby of the letter from home, he hadn’t looked at it before he left his room and he wished he had stuck it in his pocket. 

Another twist in the path suddenly revealed flowing water. Toby took a breath - it smelled fresh, not like saltwater. How did spring water make it all the way out here without the Atlantic seeping in a bit? He hadn’t walked that far had he? Couldn’t have been. It had been ages since Toby had had a proper swim, or even a bath for that matter so he shucked his things off and set them on the driest patch of ground that he could find. Wishing for a bar of soap, he scooped up handfuls of sandy grit to scrub his skin and hair before fully submerging in the delightfully cold water and shaking his head vigorously to get it all off. 

When he emerged again a small cavern caught his eye. There was a little trail of smoke coming from it at the top but it seemed like plenty of room to swim through. The smoke must be making the air down here a little odd - Toby’s head felt like it was stuffed with cotton - but maybe the smoke belonged to someone’s fire. Curiosity got the best of him and Toby swam over to investigate.


The current pushed Roland along impatiently. The water came to his hips, then his chest. There was plenty of room for his head though. If it got much deeper he’d have to swim. He wasn’t as strong a swimmer as Toby - probably no one around here was, he’d swear Toby was part fish - but he could hold his own. He wasn’t sure how far he’d gone when suddenly the tunnel opened up to a cavern. A roaring sound came from the right so Roland guessed there was a waterfall that way and worked his way to the left. He managed to find a small ledge and stood up with his ankles still in the water and his head tilted so he didn’t bang it on the craggy roof. 

~ Hello, boy. ~

The voice didn’t seem to come from any particular direction but Roland could’ve sworn he saw eyes in the smoke just now. 


“Hello?” Toby called. “Don’t mind me, I just wanted to look around. Anybody here?” Toby didn’t want to startle anyone down here, they might be armed and very jealous of their privacy. 

The cave split into two paths and the smoke seemed to be coming from the right, so Toby followed it. The current seemed to go that way so it was an easier swim anyhow. Every once in a while he called out. There were dark streaks on the red stone walls from water seeping into the cave, and plenty of dripping sounds on top of the sound of the underground river rushing along, so it made sense to call out more often if he wanted to be heard over the noise of it. 

Eventually there was no more swimming to be done - maybe the current continued down into a tunnel but Toby preferred to stay where there was air, smoky though it was. But where was the smoke coming from? 

“Hello?” he called out again, treading water. The water was cold. 

~ Hello, boy. ~

“Ah …” Toby turned in a circle, squinting as if that would suddenly reveal a campsite on a patch of dirt above the waterline. “Begging your pardon, I was just going for a swim and was wondering about the smoke. I can just be on my way -”

~ No. You are needed here, boy. ~


“Hello?” Roland called out hesitantly, looking around and trying not to think too hard about the smoke having eyes. “Is someone there?”

~ I’m always here. I have always been here. I will always be here. ~

Roland wasn’t sure how to respond - Grannie Mae would’ve known - but he was saved the trouble of it when whoever this was carried right on speaking.

~ I’ve been hungry for a long time, boy, but your kin helped me get free. ~


The voice didn’t seem to come from any particular direction but there was a large rock big enough to stand on nearby so Toby swam in that direction. “Is that so? I left my clothes back that way -”

~ That makes no difference. It didn’t matter to your kin. ~

“What now?” Toby hoisted himself out of the water, thoroughly chilled. He figured this for a bluff so he tried to squeeze the water out of his hair as whoever this was continued. 

~ Your kin to the south. The one that called herself Gloria asked for protection. She made a deal with me, and as you are her blood, I would offer the same terms to you. ~

Toby’s head whipped up. 

“Gloria? What’s Aunt -” but the uneven footing betrayed him and he stumbled. He put out a hand to catch himself, cutting himself on an especially sharp overhang. He hissed in pain and looked at his palm as blood welled up and a drop fell into the water below. 

~ Your Aunt Gloria came to see me sometime ago. I could tell she had a trace of Power but not enough to fix the wards on your family’s land. I can help with that - she freed me from where I had been trapped long ago but I require an invitation for the final stage of things. Unfortunately, she was interrupted. ~

“Interrupted how?” Roland and Toby said at the same time, then Roland said “Toby?” at the same time as Toby said “Roland?”

“What are you doing in Charleston?” Toby asked. He couldn’t see his twin in the smoke but he’d know his twin’s voice anywhere. 

“I’m not, I’m back home. Or near home.” Roland was looking in every direction but there was only rock, water, and smoke. 

“How come we can hear each other then?”

~ Part of my gifts to you. You are each in a place of Power. I can bend that to your benefit. I can do more, you just need to invite me in. ~

In the dim light of the cave the creature seemed to take form like something emerging from fog, except it was made of fog and smoke itself. It seemed about as big as a wagon, but taller. Much taller. 

“Power, huh? What about making us rich?” Toby thought about the coin he’d found. “I don’t care much about that magic stuff Grannie Mae did, but it’d be nice not to have to worry about the oranges catching blight or some sickness with the cattle making it impossible to afford supplies next season.” 

Toby eyed the creature. It now looked as if it were standing on the water, barrel chested with the shoulders curved in towards each other that gave the creature a hunched appearance. The arms seemed too long, draping down to the surface of the water with hands that had too many fingers.

~ I can make it so you don’t need to work another day in your lives. ~

Roland couldn’t see Toby but the smoke creature was taking on a more solid form as they talked. He shifted to keep it as in front of him as possible when Aunt Gloria’s hair comb jabbed him in the leg through the fabric of his pocket. 

“Wait a minute,” Roland interjected. “Toby, everyone’s gone from the house. It doesn’t feel right. Where’s Aunt Gloria and the rest of them?” 

“What do you mean gone? What did you do to them?” Toby demanded.

~ I had to call them to me, as I called you. I can reunite you with your kin. ~

“Then do it,” Roland demanded, glaring at the creature. 

~ I used up a great deal of Power to reenter your world as much as I have. Letting you speak with your brother is a parlor trick. I require more Power. ~

The now solid looking creature stalked over to Toby, looming over him black as night. The cave had seemed spacious enough before but the creature was easily twice his height. He figured it was fixing to intimidate him if he didn’t cooperate, but he wasn’t going to let that stop him. 

“I think you’re lying.” Toby balled up his fists and shifted his stance to rest on the balls of his feet, staring the creature dead in the eyes. 

The creature stopped just out of punching range and exhaled, the fetid air making him wrinkle his nose. 

~ I think you’ll help me. If you don’t, you will never see your kin again. Pity you didn’t bring your knife. ~

Roland thought of his own knife - unhelpfully stowed away in his pack sitting in the house. Fat lot of good it was doing him now, not on his belt. Wait - he pulled the hair comb out of his pocket and looked at its sharp teeth with new appreciation. He was willing to bet if he could stab this thing in its soft parts he could hurt it pretty good. 

“Toby,” he called.

“Yeah?”

“Remember that mad coyote when we were kids?”

“Yeah.” Toby resisted the urge to grin. They’d had a pair of loyal, fierce cattle dogs growing up. They had gone after that coyote with everything they had. Unfortunately the coyote had hurt them both badly and they had to be put down. In honor of saving the family in general and Bessie the milk cow in particular, the boys had used “Bessie” as their secret signal word ever since. “All tore up with scars on its face. This thing’s way uglier than that was, though. It tried to get into the chicken coop, and when it couldn’t get in there it went for Bessie.”

As soon as the name Bessie left his lips, Toby put all his strength into socking the creature in the eye. At the same time Roland leapt off the rock, aiming the teeth of the comb at the creature’s throat. 

The creature flinched back and the comb met nothing but air, and worse still Roland overbalanced. He struck his hip and elbow on the hard rock, inches away from the water. 

Toby was braced for pain in his hand, he was surprised when none came - he must’ve missed - but his belly screamed alarm bells. He looked down and saw the creature's massive claws jutting into him. 

~ Fools. This could have been so much easier. Still, your inept bravery helps me to my goal regardless. ~

“Ro,” Toby gasped. He could already feel the blood, his blood, dribbling down his side. “It got me … get out.” 

“The hell I am,” Roland growled. He could feel Toby’s pain as an echo in his own belly. He put a hand to his gut and tried to think hard about what Grannie Mae would’ve done if she were here, when a fragment of a memory filtered into his mind. He drew a deep breath and said as clearly as he could, “Creature, you are not welcome here. I forbid you.” 

Quick as a flash the creature turned, lashing out at Roland. He was ready for it and jumped to one side. 

Toby groaned in pain when the claws withdrew and he fell to the ground.

~ You will not escape me! ~

“Say it with me Tobes!” Roland yelled desperately. “I forbid you!”

“I forbid you,” Toby panted, then drew a breath and said more forcefully, “I forbid you.”

The creature was shiny black like a beetle now but it was clearly enraged. It circled Roland to the right, then feinted left. It rushed forward and Roland lunged out of the way towards the only safe place - the water. The moment before he went in he called out as loud as he could in unison with his brother “I forbid you!”

Roland plunged under the water but he could still hear the creature’s two-tone scream, high and shrill but also low and rumbling. Or was that low sound something else? Then he had other things to worry about as he realized not only was he in the current again, in his leap to escape the creature he had thrown himself right in the direction of the waterfall. He put all his strength into swimming away. 

Toby, sprawled onto the red rock and bleeding more red onto it, could hear the creature’s screaming all too well. 

~ You fools! I waited centuries to be released and you ruin it! Bah, I need to keep the portal open, get back here, boy. Your blood will be my sacrifice. ~

It started stomping away over the water, seemingly uninterested in Toby now. 

“Get away, Roland,” he mumbled, unable to even shout now. He felt cold like he was in the water again and he was so, so tired. It felt like the earth was moving under him. He laid his head down and realized the earth was moving. This must be an earthshake. 

Roland surfaced briefly to gasp in some air and get his bearings. The creature was too close for comfort and he thought he heard Toby saying to get away. He inhaled a lungful of air and made one choice the creature wouldn’t anticipate - he swam directly to the waterfall. The water went faster and faster and suddenly he lost all sense of up and down. He curled up into a ball and hoped for the best in the darkness. 

Toby figured Roland must’ve gotten away when the creature screamed at a new level of rage. He couldn’t see where it went but he could see a few pebbles raining down from the ceiling, then a rock the size of his head splashed down into the water. As he lost consciousness he thought he could hear people screaming but that was probably his imagination. 

It was just as well that he wasn’t aware of anything after that point - the cavern folded in on itself in a way not typically seen in normal earthquakes. The city above him was devastated. Dozens of people died and near about every building was damaged, if not completely destroyed. 

Hundreds of miles away in Florida in a nameless patch of the woods, the mysterious fissure that had leaked smoke for time beyond memory startled some owls and deer as the earth twisted, sealing it closed … for now. 

Notes:

This story was originally inspired by the story of the Wakulla Volcano which was in the Florida panhandle. The source of the smoke disappeared forever on August 31, 1886 which was also the day of the Charleston earthquake. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wakulla_Volcano https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1886_Charleston_earthquake

In our world the Florida East Coast Railway, established in 1867, built the railway that goes down the east coast of Florida down to the Keys. It still exists today.

Though most rivers flow north to south, the St. Johns river flows south to north. The Nile river in Egypt is the most well known river that flows north, though there are others. https://www.worldatlas.com/rivers/rivers-that-flow-north.html

Mrs. Mincey, the owner of Toby's flophouse in this story, is named in honor of Madame J. Mincey who was a French Huguenot brothel owner and convict in colonial Charleston, South Carolina. She owned the Pink House in Charleston, South Carolina.

Honorary mention to the book "A Land Remembered" by Patrick Smith and the horror anthology podcast "Old Gods of Appalachia" for their influences.