I ran into my friend Raymond from college last week in downtown Asheville.  I bumped into him in Jack of the Wood. I was sitting alone and Ray, recognizing me, asked if he could sit down.  We were good friends back in the day but have drifted apart over the years so I was happy for the company, since it was a quieter night than usual at the usually boisterous bar.  Ray asked me how my life was going and I gave him the report, caught him up on the kids etc.  When it was his turn to talk, he caught me up on his family including Deb his wife who I just barely remember from college. But he seemed to have something more on his mind.  We ordered another round and I asked him to tell me what was going on.  He said he and Deb had had kind of an unusual experience and he wanted to tell me about it.  

Here is Ray’s story:  

We went to Oak Island beach on the coast of NC a couple of weekends ago.  We were all very excited about it. Deb had come up with the idea and made the reservation at a house on the beach called, no kidding, Casa Relaxa.  Friends of ours, Terri  and Ben, Mary and Britt and Lena all immediately said yes to joining us.  Let the party begin!

Lena rode down with me and Deb.  Since her divorce she has been quite the swinging single, so it was a happy surprise she was willing to spend the whole weekend with three boring longtime couples.  Britt is a massage therapist and Mary works in a bank.  You might think Britt the natural healer and Deb the MD would find a lot to disagree about, but no they always get along surprisingly well.  

Terri and Ben are newly retired hippies living on something of a compound with several other families.  No matter what, they are always completely relaxed and having a blast. We would have a good time for sure.  They always bring the fun.

Descending from the mountains of Asheville down through the flat piedmont Deb, Lena, and I talked about what was going on in our lives and as always Lena kept us very entertained with stories of her recent romantic adventures.  But mostly we listened to some crazy ‘70’s music song list from Spotify on the radio and sang along for hours.  It was beautiful and the sun was out when we left, but we had gotten a late start and by the time we reached the dense piney forests of NC, the sun had set and there was a chill in the air. We rolled up the windows.  The music track ended, leaving us unprepared in silence. 

It was my fault that we weren’t there yet partying with the others.  I had the brilliant idea to set our GPS map for Avoid Highways.  I’ve always liked the idea of exploring the backcountry roads and the forgotten little towns that dot them.  The result of indulging my fantasy was we were now in the NC low country on what seemed an endless spider web of lonely 2 lane highways surrounded by wide ditches of black swamp water with unbroken impenetrable pine woods beyond the ditches.  Even with the windows up the aromatic scent of wet rotting matter penetrated to the interior of the car.  It’s a repellent smell that may be natural but still doesn’t seem quite healthy.  The sun was about gone for the day and we still had a couple of hours or so to go to reach the beach according to the map on the phone.

I guess it was also my fault that we were in our new Tesla.  Deb had tried to get me to leave the Tesla in the garage since we don’t really have much experience with finding charging stations in the wild.  But fighting global climate change is beaucoup important to me so I had insisted on taking the Tesla.  Now with only 2% battery charge left, we needed to find some electricity quick and the likelihood of that in these desolate swamps was not looking very good.  In fact you might say it was dawning on each of us that we were sort of, well, completely screwed.  

When I was a kid I used to ride to the beach with my dad through these swamps after he and my mother divorced.  He told me stories about Gen. Francis Marion, known as The Swamp Fox, who fought the British in these swamps during the Revolutionary War.  That must have been miserable work. But the story I remember the best he told me one day after we passed through the hamlet of Bladenboro which is a lonely outpost of a town in swamp country.  There is a billboard at the county line that says Bladen County is known for producing lumber and turpentine!  And little else, except mosquitoes I suppose.  Anyway my dad said there had been a disturbance in the area some time back, some pets killed and rumors of worse.  People had pretty well panicked before things settled back down.  The killings were said to be done by something called the Beast of Bladenboro.  My dad had served as a marine in Korea and he basically wasn’t scared of anything.  We laughed a lot about the Beast of Bladenboro.  But it was on that same trip that we had a flat tire just at dusk.  We were in an old MG Midget sports car and it took us a while to figure out how to change the tire on that strange little English car.  I remember I kept hearing things in the swampy woods that began just a few feet from where the MG was parked.  I remember scanning into the darkness wondering what all was out there.  We got that tire changed as fast as possible and for some reason we never mentioned the Beast of Bladenboro again.  

Now at 1% charge in the Tesla we had to do something soon.  Then Lena noticed a break in the swamp water to the left and we took the turn down a narrow dirt road.  I was hoping it might be a driveway.  Maybe there would be a house and we could beg to plug in long enough to arrive at the beach and finally, Casa Relaxa!  The road showed little sign of recent use but we had no option but to continue on.  Eventually the dirt path opened into a small clearing.  There was a field with a few old cotton plants full with their load of late summer cotton.  But it was mostly weeds.  No one was tending this field now.  There was an old farmhouse, but my heart fell when I saw that there were no lights and it looked thoroughly abandoned.  I was feeling pretty guilty for my part in screwing up this supposedly fun trip.  

But somehow Deb and Lena didn’t seem as mad as I expected; in fact they seemed strangely excited by this unplanned adventure and they oohed and aahed at the decrepit charm of the old house with its crumbling trim and cracked paint.  They tumbled out of the failing Tesla to explore while I sat and fumed, trying to use my phone but of course there was no signal.  I watched them check out the front porch sitting in some old rockers there, then they disappeared around the back of the house.  A few minutes later I saw them scamper towards an old shed to see what was in there.  After that I saw Deb sprinting back towards the car. I jumped out.

“What’s wrong!”, I said.

“Nothing, we didn’t find much. But we might have found some electricity.”

Deb grabbed my hand and led me back to the side of the shed where there was a power pole with one aged, frayed electrical line attached.   There were no outlets or lights in the shed but the pole itself had one outlet hanging sideways near the bottom.  It seems somebody had thought about bringing electricity to this place but basically gave up the ghost leaving just this one outlet which probably didn’t work.  I wasn’t at all hopeful but pulled the Tesla over anyway and managed to plug it into the dangling box without getting electrocuted.  I was shocked when the car’s control panel actually lit up and indicated it was charging.  The bad news was it would be at least 6 hours until we had enough charge to make it the rest of the way, plugged into this slow 120v line.  I sunk back into the leather seat, seething that things could have gone this far off track.

Deb and Lena paid no attention to my bad attitude and I heard them unloading the cooler and food bags, while excitedly talking about the impromptu dinner they would put together.  I pulled myself together and joined them on the rickety front porch of the old house where we shared a smoke.  I was feeling a little more relaxed but still couldn’t believe this was happening.

Then Deb unpacked the spiced sausages with saltines, Deb’s chicken salad, pickles, and chocolate bars for dessert.  We sipped some chilled white wine from the cooler.  We listened as the frogs and crickets got down to business which sounded very loud in the silence of this small clearing in the middle of this swamp forest. It was kind of beautiful I have to admit, sitting there on the porch, watching the half moon rise up out of the forest darkness. 

With supper over, we had the urge to explore some more.  Partly because there was a chill creeping up from the swamp at the foot of the meadow, we decided to check out the inside of the house.  We pulled the screen door back and nudged the old wood door open.  After all, we were going to be here for several more hours at least, so we might as well see what was in there, maybe something useful.  We used our flickering phone flashlights.  At first glance, the inside of the house was in surprisingly good shape considering how rundown the outside was and how isolated this old farm was.  Almost as if it had been abandoned in a hurry, there was still an old jacket hanging on the hook on the back of the door, and there were some old boots neatly side by side just inside the door.  The living room had some beat up old furniture, a dark fireplace, and some oil lamps still sitting on tables. Two of the old lamps still had some oil left so we lit them which lent a welcome if feeble light. The flickering lamp light reflected off the old windows so we couldn’t see the view outside now.  I briefly wondered what might be out there looking in.

Beyond the living room was the old kitchen on the left.  There was a lot of stuff thrown around in there and it looked snakey so we didn’t go in there.  Down a short hall to the right was what we supposed would be the bedroom, and it was.  Like the living room it seemed mostly intact.  In fact there were two narrow high beds each with an old spread and pillow.  I knew it was crazy but when I saw those beds they looked awfully good.  I mean it wasn’t La Quinta, but  I think all the stress with the Tesla was catching up with me.  Lena and Deb laughed and gasped when I stretched out on one of the beds.  

“Ray, you are crazy to lay down on that bed.  It’s probably full of mice and bugs and who knows what else,” Deb said.  Lena laughed her agreement, but I just sighed and closed my eyes.  The bed felt awfully good.  Lena and Deb tried to think of something else to do, but they couldn’t really so they stretched out on the other bed.  It was a tight fit, but back to back, they lay, giggling at first, then soon they were quiet too and we all drifted off I guess.

To Be Continued…

Ray’s wild story had held my attention to such a point that I hadn’t noticed that Jack of the Wood, already unusually quiet, had completely emptied out.  But some of the staff seemed in the mood to hang around and socialize amongst themselves at this late hour, so they seemed unconcerned about me and Ray and our quiet conversation in our now dark corner. As an afterthought a waitress came over with a plate of wings telling us the kitchen was closing and these were about to go in the trash.  Ray smiled at the young tattooed and pierced woman and accepted the chicken.  He continued..

I woke up some time later.  I don’t know how long we had been asleep in the old farmhouse. Deb and Lena were still sound asleep.  I looked out the window.  The moon was still visible but obscured by fast moving clouds now and I could hear the wind gently rattling the old window glass.  I could just make out the Tesla in the moonlight tethered to the lone electric pole.  I wondered how much charge it had now.  From somewhere in the house I could hear a faint but insistent banging, probably a window shutter from upstairs swaying in the wind. Checking my watch I realized it had only been about 3 hours since the Tesla was plugged in so there was no way we could leave yet and hope to make it to the beach.  Glancing at Deb and Lena I decided to secure that noisy shutter so they could at least sleep through this seemingly interminable delay.

Grabbing my phone light I checked the hall and found a door we hadn’t noticed before which must lead to the upper floor.  Opening it I saw a narrow, wooden, steep stairway that rose 3 steps to a tiny landing, then twisted to the right.  I stepped into the claustrophobic space noticing the smooth wood paneled walls on all sides.  I thought about what fire traps these old farmhouses were with their bone dry wood framing, paneling and siding, heated in the winter by some leaky wood stove funneling smoke and sparks through a makeshift chimney.  It was a wonder this place was even still standing.  One stray spark and it would burn like a torch.

At the top of the stairs was another hallway that ran the length of the house with an exterior window at each end.  It felt good to be able to see some natural light from the moon through both windows.  The windows were broken, perhaps by vandals throwing rocks, so I stepped carefully, crunching over broken glass while looking for rotten boards and avoiding piles of discarded clothes and general debris.  I checked the window at each end of the hall for the loose shutter but could find nothing that seemed to be the source of the banging noise.  The wind played an eerie song as it blew across the jagged broken panes remaining in the window frames.  I shivered as much from the sound of the wind as the coolness of the night.

I could still hear the banging though it oddly seemed as remote now as before from the bedroom below.  My attention turned to the doors on the hallway.  There were three of them.  The first was a tiny closet filled with old clothes and trash.  I shut that door quickly.  The second was a ruined bedroom with a chasm in the middle of the floor where the joists had collapsed.  Trying the third door on the other side of the hall, I  was surprised to find that it opened to a short hallway that led, against all expectations, to a balcony, what had once been a rather grand balcony, though of course broken and peeling now.  Weirdly there seemed to be some light in this space as I approached the edge of the balcony.  

What was most unusual was the balcony seemed to overlook a large interior space, a decrepit, cobweb filled chamber with the remains of a grand chandelier hanging askew 15 or so feet in front of me, just barely visible in the dim light.  This room made no sense as it seemed bigger than the whole house looked from the outside when we drove up.  I tried to remember if the house was set against a hill?  Could this bizarre relic of a room be somehow hidden underground?  What insane architect could have designed such a thing?  My eyes swept down toward the wide floor below.  It was dotted with furniture here and there, old looking leather furniture, much nicer than anything in the front part of the house, and dark stained glass windows all around.  And yes the banging was coming from the room below as the noise was clearer now, echoing in the cavernous room.  Turning to the right I saw a wide stairway, a grand curving stairway that led down to the room below.  Hypnotized by the scene before me, I forgot my fear and followed the stairway down, though clinging to the rail to get past the broken steps I encountered.  I didn’t need my phone light now as the floor of the room was suffused with a warm glow from lamps and candles placed here and there.  There were old rotting paintings hanging on the walls which I didn’t have the concentration to study, along with a large mirror in an ornate golden frame on the wall to the left up ahead.  I walked towards the noise which was louder now.  It seemed to be coming from behind a thin partition at about the same point of the room as the mirror.  I could see vague motions outlined on the thin partition by the shadow of something moving repetitively on the other side. I approached, sick with dread, but mesmerized now.  I had to see what was on the other side.

I held my breath and walked around the right side of the partition.  There I saw a most ungodly animal.  It was covered with hair or fur perhaps.  It was skinny and tall.  It seemed both clumsy and yet powerful.  I could see tiny eyes and a hint of a generous mouth with just a flash of teeth streaked with what looked like blood.  The thing seemed to be concentrating on its work.  The weirdest part is that even though it bore almost no resemblance to anything human, it was sitting in an old chair pulled up to a table just as a person would.  In its hands were some tools that I could not identify.  It was gathering and smashing things collected on the table. Finally taking in the whole scene I realized the table was covered in bones, some with flesh still on them, some gnawed clean.

At the sight of all this, I gasped, causing the beast to look up at me, and for a second our eyes met.  That second I seemed to awaken from the trance I must have been in.  I turned and ran.  I heard the beast’s chair slide backwards and turn over as it let out the most high pitched and horrible scream of anger and violation.  

I ran back up the curving stairway without a glance behind, but I could feel the beast was behind me. Reaching the top of the grand staircase and crossing the hall, I slammed the door, and I almost fell down the steep narrow stairs that led down to the bedroom where I now found Lena and Deb clutching each other in shock.  They had been awakened by a terrible scream they told me and then realized I was not there.  Without a word of explanation I said, “Get your things, let’s get in the car now!”.  And so we ran out of the old house across the rickety porch, across the yard and to what we hoped was the safety of the Tesla.  I yanked the charging cord from the pathetic outlet and threw it in the back.

It’s funny how a car can give a sense of security.  Lightning can’t strike you there.  The steel doors that lock and the tough glass provide an immediate sense of calm.  I hoped we were safe. I pushed the start button and thrilled to the comforting and familiar startup sequence of beeps and flashes. Deb and Lena kept asking me, “What happened?  What was that scream we heard?”  I ignored them.  Somehow being in the modern car had broken the spell of fear for me, but I had not desire nor ability to put into words what I had just seen. I put the car in reverse which triggered the backup camera to display on the large screen between the two front seats.  Glancing down at the screen I saw the beast calmly looking at us from about 10 ft. behind the car.  I let out a scream.  Lena and Deb hadn’t noticed the screen and couldn’t understand what was wrong with me.  I shifted to drive and floored the accelerator.  The car shot forward bouncing across the uneven cotton field.  I circled back spinning up clods of red clay and headed for the dirt driveway leading to the paved road.  I did not see the beast again, thankfully.

Finally we actually made it to Casa Relaxa.  Our other friends were happy to see us and not as worried as I had expected.  I let Lena and Deb tell the story and they mostly played it as a funny lark.  I let them do it and kept my experience and feelings to myself, which I was unable to explain at any rate, even to myself.  

Ray paused and I realized he had reached the end of his tale.  We were alone in Jack of the Wood now.  Perhaps there was someone still in the back, or could the staff, after their late night party, have forgotten we were even here and locked up?  Ray stared down at the leftover wing bones in his plate for a long time, seeming to have exhausted himself in telling his story.  At last he slowly raised his face to meet mine and our eyes met. He smiled and I could see that his teeth were streaked with what looked like blood.  I jumped up from the table and bolted for the door hoping against hope that it wasn’t locked.  Behind me I heard Ray’s chair slide backwards and bang to the ground.  Then there was the most horrible high pitched scream.