More Flash Fiction

The North Shore Monster (#old)

"Aye," said McNeil, "I's seen it with me own eyes." The children pressed in closer around the fire. Old McNeil didn't have much in life. He wore an old hat and his clothes were in taters. Nearly blind, his corneas were clouded over with cataracts. But he relished the attention of eager ears for his stories. He took a swig of his flask and continued.

"We's were working for the Barnes and Company Salt Works out on the flats of the Great Salt Lake yonder." He motioned to the west. "It was a cold night, not unlike this one, and the darkness was upon us before the end of our shift." He smiled revealing a rotten toothy grin. His eyes gleamed reflecting the flames.

"We were exhausted from the back-breaking work of harvesting that there salt, so we built a fire and had some drink between us to warm up before the long walk home." His voice trailed off and he raised his flask as if toasting the children while staring into the night and reliving the memory.

He returned his attention to those listening to his tale. "And that's when a fierce beast rose from the dark waters!" McNeil jumped forward startling the group. Some of the smaller children clung to their older siblings.

"What was it?" asked a boy.

"We's never seen the likes of it before," said McNeil. "It had the head of a hoarse and the body of a crocodile." The childrens' eyes grew wide. "And it was huge. A massive beast nearly 30 feet long."

"Maybe it was the whales they put in the lake," suggested a girl.

"Nay, a whale doesn't charge at ye!" said McNeil again lurching at the group. "No old James Wickham released those two poor beasts two years prior hoping to make em into a tourist attraction. Poor fool didn't realize this old prehistoric lake is more salty than the ocean."

"At times almost 9 times more salty," offered the girl.

McNeil ignored the scientific commentary and stared down his young audience for dramatic effect. He took another nip of whiskey and continued. "And its roar. Its roar near froze our blood with fear."

"What did you do?" asked the same little boy.

"WE RAN!" yelled McNeil jumping up, arms in the air. "FOR OUR LIVES!" He scanned his terrified audience daring one to be skeptical. "We hid in the forest surrounding the lake, hid there all night until the sun rose again. Only then did we dare venture out and go home."

"Are you sure it wasn't a buffalo?" asked the boy. "My mom said Wikipedia indicated it was probably a buffalo."

If McNeil felt perturbed by the skeptic, he hid it well and emptied his flask.

"Aie there are some who don't believe it," he said softly. "But I's seen it with me own eyes–The North Shore Monster."

"I thought the North Shore Monster looked like a dolphin?" whined the little boy who was increasingly irritating McNeil.

"Your Wee-Kee-Pedia has it all wrong lad." McNeil scowled fiercely. "They's didn't consult with meself or Brother Bainbridge on that story." He growled and the children cowered. "Past your bedtime it is now, so scram!"