Blackwater Springs

Chapter Eight

1

     Audrey stepped out of Fran’s Boutique into the April sunshine. The heat seemed to bear down on her, and she wondered -not for the first time- why she’d ever decided to move to the countryside. She picked up her plastic shopping bag and continued down the narrow sidewalk, fully aware that several people were openly gawking at her as she passed. Go on and look, you old bags, she thought as she passed a group of three old ladies. She felt like an exhibit in the town’s freak show, but she didn’t let it reveal; she just smiled and nodded to each and every citizen as she passed.

    That is, until she felt a light tap on her shoulder.

    She spun around, and for an instant, her mind conjured up images of muggers and rapists. Then she remembered she wasn’t in Chicago or Lexington anymore.

    Standing behind her was Alan Mills.

2

    “You’re the lady who was in the store the other day, right?” he asked, his voice almost a whisper. Audrey nodded. “Can we talk?”

    “Sure,” she said. She followed him through a couple of alleys until they reached a small, deserted park.

    They sat down on the bench, and for a moment both of them were silent. Then, “I’ve been having dreams,” Alan said without preamble.

    Audrey tried not to gasp. “What kind of dreams, Alan?”

    “Scary ones. I dreamed that waitress from the Café died, and then she did. Then last night, I dreamed that some woman I didn’t know got killed, a black woman, and this morning on the news, they said that the clerk from the Wayfarer was killed, then they showed a picture of her.” He paused, then continued, “It was the same woman that was in my dream!”

    Maybe it’s just a coincidence, Audrey started to say, then thought better of it. She knew in her heart that there was no way everything that was happening in Blackwater Springs was a coincidence.  “Do you remember any other details from the dreams?” she asked instead.

    Alan’s young eyes were filled with terror. “Only -Only that in both of them, I saw the Black Man.”

3

    “Who’s the Black Man, Alan?” Audrey asked for the second time.

    “It’s a local legend. The Black Man is another name for the Devil. A lot of people say they’ve seen him, but if they had…” His voice trailed off.

    Audrey’s teacher instincts kicked into high gear. “Describe him.”

    “Wha-What?”

    “Describe the Black Man.”

    “I can’t.” Alan told her.

    “Why not?” she demanded.

    “Because,” he said, “The legend says that anyone who sees the Black Man is already marked for death.”

    “Alan, that’s just a legend. Besides, that doesn’t mean that you can’t tell me what he looks like.” She hoped she sounded convincing. She wasn't sure just what was legend and what was real anymore.

    “But then you’d ‘magine what he looks like, then you’d be killed too,” He nearly sobbed.

    “Alan,” Audrey's voice was gentle, “I’m not sure it works like that, Please just tell me what the Black Man looks like.”

   “Okay.” Alan was reluctant. “But if he comes an’ kills you, just remember that I tried to get you to leave it alone.”

4