BARGAINING
Ninety three years...an age not many reach, even in this time period. The feat could only be achieved through dedication, care, and some luck. Of course, in the case of Mr. Warren Almaker the outcome was also due to a pact, made long ago, in secret. On the cusp of being taken to the grave with the dying man, he decides to tell an intriguing story to his kin, in part for his conscious and in part to pass along the knowledge he gained from the experience. Alone with his grandson, our story begins...
"You lived an awesome life, grandpa," Caleb, Warrens grandson, began to speak so highly and affectionately of his idol. "You were a world renowned fisherman and you still hold those records for so many fish too!" Warren smiled warmly at the admiration, his heart heavy with guilt from the truth of it all, the fraudulence, the lies. "Caleb," Warren spoke, raspy and quick, as if rushed suddenly. "I'm going to tell you my secret to success. You can never tell anyone, including your mother or grandmother. You must swear this to me, boy! Do you swear it!?" Stunned and excited, Caleb nodded his head. Confusion and elation consumed the boy as he awaited this information, already trying to guess as to the answer all the while pondering on how he would use it. Captivated, he listened as his waning grandfather began his story.
"You may not be aware of this but your great grandfather was a hell of an angler, best I've ever seen. As such, he took me along on many of his trips, imparting wisdom to me, as I am now to you. Now, we always fished on the weekends because of his work. He was a traveling salesman, roaming and selling goods to any and everyone, and he was damn good at it. We continued this tradition for over a decade, each weekend we would spend fishing, as much as we could, weather or responsibilities be damned we went. It never dawned on me until I was older how strange it was that we always caught fish no matter the circumstances. Of course, the world has changed a lot since then, areas and climates, people and animals, whole damn worlds different, more complex, or maybe that's just my age showing.
Well, this was an arrangement we had until I reached the age that I was to go off to college, make a man of myself and find a career. As easy as my parents made it seem, and as natural as working was for my father, I struggled immensely, never enjoying anything I did, except for fishing. Any weekend I could get free and come home, I would spend with my dad, just like old times. I couldn't see if then but things were changing. I didn't mind that we weren't catching much on our trips, it only mattered that I was away from the city, enjoying a quiet excitement. There came a weekend that I arrived and my father could not go fishing nor could he do anything, stricken by some foreign illness that the doctors could not explain. And so, I sat where you are sitting now, worried and distraught over the descending state of my old mans health, wishing only to go fishing with him just one more time. And from the very man my sorrow was being caused by, he supplied an answer, as if he heard my thoughts, knew what I needed to hear. He looked at me with these eyes, a gaze that pierced down into my soul, the very memory still gives me chills of those icy blue fading eyes fixated on me, a seriousness unlike anything he had ever revealed to me before. I want you to remember everything I am about to tell you, Caleb, sear these words in your mind. Do this for me and you will not regret it. My father, lying there, dying, gave me clear instructions on what to do upon his death. I expect the same from you. He looked at me and said..."
Great Grandfather speaking:
"Son, listen to me carefully, for I shall not tell you again. When I die, no matter the objections or ramifications of this action, I want you to take my ashes to a specific place. During the New Moon, when the sky is dark and the waters are still, visit the Black Lake. Venture out where an old tree pierces the top of the water, thriving even though drowned. Dump my ashes upon its limbs and speak my name, my whole name, Garfield Alexander Almaker. Then, you must anchor next to the waterlogged branches and sleep through the night until the sun is risen. If you do this for me, you shall be doing this for yourself as well. Tell no one of this, boy, I warn you, not until death comes for you. Do you promise me this, son? Will you return me to the waters I am so fond of?"
"Did you take his ashes, grandpa?" Caleb asked, the boy enthralled by this tale, knowing his grandfather to be a mighty storyteller. "I did, Caleb," He replied with a tired expression, shadows beginning to loom in the doorway now as he focused on his grandson. "Let me continue and listen carefully." Laid back on the hospital bed pillow, fluorescent light beating down on him, beginning the story where he left off.
"I was in college, finishing a semester, when this all unfolded. I had a few close friends that were almost like brothers to me, each of else helping the other out during those hard times. I never asked, and I should have, but my father had not stated whether I had to be alone on this journey or not, and I wish now, as much as since, that I had inquired. I assumed this to be merely a final errand for my dad, one last outing, even in death. I was a fool, Caleb. I was young and reckless, not to mention devastated. His warning not fully reaching the depths that he had hoped, and my folly causing much sorrow in the years after. But I digress, let me tell you of what happened and why this is relevant."
"We were no more than nineteen or twenty at the time, my friend and I, stupid and educated as I like to stay. A dangerous combination. Red, Derek, and Hall arrived early in the morning, before my mother was awake, stealing me and my fathers ashes away, our sights set on the Black Lake. Trip time was the majority of the day, which we spent drinking beer and listening to music along the way, poking fun at one another and simply being fools. To my surprise, a reservation was already made in my name at the lake for a boat, your great grandfather even surprising me in passing. We reached the grounds before nightfall, unloading our gear, mostly food and drink, onto the craft. The urn was placed at the helm so that my dads spirit could be better in view of the lake. A crucial fact about this trip, it was cold out thus the traffic was light. In fact, I don't remember seeing anyone else out on the water that evening. Father had provided a map with coordinates, placed at the helm by the boatman prior to our arrival. I remember him because of the way he acted, getting us situated and then immediately leaving before we were even out of the docks. Prepped, sun light fading fast, we set out for the landmark my old man had mentioned.
It took us maybe an hour before we found the spot, tucked back away in a cove surrounded by trees and boulders. We let the boat settle, opening our beers in celebration of the journey and remembrance, letting the night fade into a dark quiet, the water becoming oddly still, our boat moving without noise. We quieted ourselves out of respect, my three ship mates allowing me to take my time, knowing only what I told them. I fed them a half truth, understanding full well now that that is worse than a lie in itself. I gave them only the portion about my father wanting his ashes spread on this particular spot. I made a promised and I meant to keep it, even if I was being selfish and scared by bringing my friends. It was time, an empty sky with a shrouded moon, flat surface liquid reflecting only darkness. Opening the urn, I called out my fathers full name, dumping his remains on the cold timbers reaching out from the depths. With the deed complete, we made a toast, reminiscing of lost lives and weighty matters in our lives, the drink taking its toll on us. We retired sometime late, each of us drunk and exhausted by the excursion, sleeping under that vast void."
"It's time for your grandfather to sleep," A nurse interrupted, startling both man and boy. "But..." Caleb began, Warren quickly chiming in. "It's alright, we can continue the story tomorrow, right?" Calebs grandfather winked at him, his eyes heavy now, knowing he needed sleep, unsure if this would be the final one. Saddened, his grandson hugged him tightly then left, each wondering if they would see another, both wanting to finish the story.
"What did you and grandpa Warren talk about, son?" Calebs mother asked on the drive home. He paused before answering, his eyes looking to the bright moon in the sky. "Fishing," he said, leaving out all the details concerning their conversation. "Your grandfather has an unhealthy obsession with fishing, Caleb," She said angrily, speeding up in response. "Your father would have been just as infatuated if he were still alive. I don't want him filling your head with nonsense. Besides, he needs his rest." Caleb listened but did not care about the objections. He hardly remembered his own father and now he was losing the only person he had close to one. His grandfather was more important in his eyes than his mother understood, her believing herself to be his foundation and salvation. He could not wait to hear more of Grandpa Warrens story, regardless if it was nonsense, he enjoyed any time he could spend with him.
"My moms gone," Caleb said excitedly upon his return to the hospital room, his grandfather smiling at the excitement and attention. "Did you tell her anything about our time?" His grandfather asked, his demeanor slightly changed, almost paranoid. "No, of course not," Caleb responded quickly, worried. "I told her we talked about fishing and she got all mad. She even brought up dad." Warren relaxed, nodding at the truth the young man spoke. "Alright," Drinking some water, the bedridden man began his tale again.
"We were in the cove, asleep, alone out on that Black Lake, wind halted, sky darkened, water calmed. We awoke to a noise, the only sound beyond ourselves. A splash, movement in the water, darkness hampering our vision but each one knowing something just bumped into our boat. We saw it, that wretched thing, in the shape of a person, lurching over our bow, pulling itself aboard and into our midst. We were held by fright, a great terror washing over us, keeping any from moving. She, that drowned creature that dwelled beneath the sunken shade, heard my fathers name, breaching the surface to heed our summons. Fear held our tongues while hers was loose to grasp air unbound to hydrogen. Vomiting gallons upon the deck, her pale mouth now chattering beneath long, matted black, green hair, finally speaking."
"The debt by the one called Garfield...Alexander...Almaker...has been paid. Speak thy names and thy desires. Give me your word and you shall have mine. Name thy act so we may have a pact. Kiss thy lips, seal the deal, live your dreams as the one before you has done."
"We thought her words were nonsense. We considered the beer tainted or poisoned, perhaps an elaborate hoax by my father. Without warning, she moved upon Red, her long, bony moss covered fingers sliding around his neck and face, her face meeting his. She stared deep into his eyes then kissed him upon the lips, his face turning pale, eyes rolling back, body going limp. Before we could act, some enchantment holding us in place, she slithered from friend to friend and then upon myself, last of the four. Those cold, wet hands stunk like stagnant water, turning my stomach, her breath smelling of rotten fish. There were no words spoken but an agreement was made nonetheless. With her watery gaze, she pulled the wants from within my soul, my consciousness fading after."
"What was her name?" Caleb asked, interrupting the in depth story. Warren pondered for a moment then responded. "I don't know, Caleb," The old man thinking hard on that fact, never having considered that it had a name, or that it even mattered. "Huh, so what happened next?" Caleb beckoned on, quickly moving on from his interruption. "Next? We woke up," Warren said, his story resuming.
"A bargain was made, not voiced aloud, but made with that submerged witch, her vision revealing our deepest desires. Things from this point happen fast, unfolding as promised to us, each one reveling in their newfound life.
Red became a pro football player, even though he was kept on the bench all through his college years. His success did not stop, winning championships or MVP awards each season, years of fame and fortune.
Derek was ushered into a life of medical work, surpassing all of his peers and colleagues, taking on the role of surgeon and revolutionizing techniques and overcoming certain death scenarios for many patients.
Hall chose racing, something I was not aware he was interested in at all. He outpaced every driver, out maneuvered all motocross participants, even boating he cut through the competition.
All three men were living a dream come true. I being the odd man out, deep down only wanting to fish, no modern life seeming to fit me. And so, I set sail, conquering every expanse, every species of fish, reeling in catches larger and grander than any before, even rediscovering specimens thought to be extinct. Yet, deep down, I knew the cost of my deal. Never waning from the pact made on that starless night, my soul imprinted with a price tag."
Caleb looked troubled by this portion of the story causing Warren to pause and inquire. "What troubles you, boy?" His grandfather asked, curious as to the answer. "I don't see how this story is bad, grandpa. Even if it's crazy sounding, you haven't done anything wrong." Warren hung his head at those words, his grandson correct but only because he had halted the tale. "What I tell you next is the worst part, the reason I made you swear to never speak of this, to anyone." Caleb furrowed his brow and nodded in compliance. Warren took a deep breath, readying himself to reveal the next segment.
"I kept my part of the deal but the others did not. As such, I had to uphold the laws of the pact. Unspoken but known, each of us warned of repercussions from the very beginning. Payment would come, with interest, for the one who did not fulfill his part of the bargain. Red was supposed to maintain a winning streak for twenty five years, stopping after only ten years. Derek had only to let one child die of a wealthy family, payment swaying his mind instead. Hall did the best of the three, having only to win in each type of race for a span of thirty years. His arrogance caused him to over schedule races, meaning he failed one by no show. As for myself, all I had to do was fish, realistically. For forty years, I must win a championship per year, and I did just that, never letting myself become distracted or greedy. What more did I want than to fish?
And so, time passed for each of us, but not without notice. Some time after their failings, I had a dream, perhaps a vision, that left me sleepless from that point, plaguing my mind. The lake hag visited me on a moonless night, haunting my rest, dragging me back to those dark waters in my mind. She told me that our bargain was incomplete, the others having failed in their endeavors. The four of us having lost track of time and not seeing one another for a long while, yet their problems seemed to be separate from my own. I had kept my word, I did what we agreed upon, their lives were not my responsibility. Oh, how I was wrong. I had brought them along that night, their bargains belonging to me in turn. This was an agreement made long ago by blood and I had sullied it therefore their failures were mine to bear. She left me racked with guilt, tortured by the decision I had to make. I called upon the other three after some deliberation. It was time for a gathering of the four after so many years.
We met at the Black Lake, many years having passed since our fates were altered by my fathers ashen call. This would be a celebration in honor of our success, tribute to the place where the tides had changed. I owned a house boat there at the time, plenty of room for the four of us to enjoy ourselves and talk of our deeds and merits. Asking for three, I was met by six, each one presenting some trophy wife or gold digger. It was unfortunate but this was a special occasion and I did not want to make a fuss over something so trivial. Together, the seven of us left the docks, heading out to that distant and strange cove.
We arrived, moon full, brimming with energy, illuminating the waters skin. We toasted, we danced, we shared stories. It was a pleasant evening for all, the four of us never speaking of the pact in front of the women but each man knowing the significance of the place. Each couple turned in until I was the only soul still stirring, drinking deep and staring across the lakes dancing body. A bump against the boat finally signaling me to address the oath breakers.
She followed me, to each of their rooms, watching as I slit their throats and stabbed their bodies, witnessing the payment that I had to pay for their broken promises. The wives were not part of the original plan but she assured me that they would be taken as a bonus, for the future. I slaughtered my friends and their loved ones as we drifted in a cove of silent death, a being of supernatural descent shadowing me during each kill, making me pay for the transgressions of my carelessness. I did this so that she did not drown my own family in blood, gladly taking a life for life, three for three, my wife, son, and future grandson being the ones targeted. I tried bargaining my own life but our previous transaction was completed and could not be transferred or altered. Do you understand what I am telling you, Caleb?"
Shaken, the boy did not answer, he was near tears, but when he spoke Warren was shocked by what he asked. "If this is all true..." His grandsons words raising his hair. "Then, why did my father have to die? Why is he dead if you did what you said?" This was the guilt he had that he needed to reveal. A burning question from his kin and an answer that would sear deeper. "I may be an angler, and have carved plenty of fish, but I am amateur in the matters of murder. I thought I had finished each of the three but I was wrong. Furious, as if I had tricked her, that thing took your father from us. I had corrected my mistake too late. Upon returning home from my sinister trip, your mother informed me of your fathers sudden passing. He drowned while fishing alone that weekend, or that what they said happened. I knew that she came for him because I angered her. I caused the death of my son, the death of your father, because I was a fool. Misfortune gripped our family thanks to my carelessness. I lay here, waiting for death, only hoping that you will forgive me." Caleb said nothing, the two sitting in silence for a long while, both staring out of the window at the night sky.
No stars in sight, the moon blanketed in darkness, waters motionless, silent. With a splash, Caleb spoke. "Warren Garfield Almaker...I forgive you!" Cremated remains merged with the black waters, sinking into the dark calm. Caleb looked down into the bleak abyss staring at a shaded image of himself. He pulled his coat tight and lay down upon the deck, wrapping a blanket over himself.
Thudding the boat, a pale, damp figure pulled itself aboard, expelling putrid liquid onto the deck. She crawled her way over to meet Calebs face, his gaze awaiting hers, black, kelp like hair dragged across him as she moved over the teen.
With wreaking breath she speaks,
"The debt by the one called Warren...Garfield...Almaker...has been paid. Speak thy name and thy desires. Give me your word and you shall have mine. Name thy act so we may have a pact. Kiss thy lips, seal the deal, live your dreams as the one before you has done."
Her fingers crawled across his scalp and onto his face and neck. Without words, she leaned down and kissed him, Calebs eyes fluttering wildly before falling into a deep slumber. A new pact made without lights in the sky, hushed water haunted by the faces of the dead. A name for a name...
Ninety three years...an age not many reach, even in this time period. The feat could only be achieved through dedication, care, and some luck. Of course, in the case of Mr. Warren Almaker the outcome was also due to a pact, made long ago, in secret. On the cusp of being taken to the grave with the dying man, he decides to tell an intriguing story to his kin, in part for his conscious and in part to pass along the knowledge he gained from the experience. Alone with his grandson, our story begins...
"You lived an awesome life, grandpa," Caleb, Warrens grandson, began to speak so highly and affectionately of his idol. "You were a world renowned fisherman and you still hold those records for so many fish too!" Warren smiled warmly at the admiration, his heart heavy with guilt from the truth of it all, the fraudulence, the lies. "Caleb," Warren spoke, raspy and quick, as if rushed suddenly. "I'm going to tell you my secret to success. You can never tell anyone, including your mother or grandmother. You must swear this to me, boy! Do you swear it!?" Stunned and excited, Caleb nodded his head. Confusion and elation consumed the boy as he awaited this information, already trying to guess as to the answer all the while pondering on how he would use it. Captivated, he listened as his waning grandfather began his story.
"You may not be aware of this but your great grandfather was a hell of an angler, best I've ever seen. As such, he took me along on many of his trips, imparting wisdom to me, as I am now to you. Now, we always fished on the weekends because of his work. He was a traveling salesman, roaming and selling goods to any and everyone, and he was damn good at it. We continued this tradition for over a decade, each weekend we would spend fishing, as much as we could, weather or responsibilities be damned we went. It never dawned on me until I was older how strange it was that we always caught fish no matter the circumstances. Of course, the world has changed a lot since then, areas and climates, people and animals, whole damn worlds different, more complex, or maybe that's just my age showing.
Well, this was an arrangement we had until I reached the age that I was to go off to college, make a man of myself and find a career. As easy as my parents made it seem, and as natural as working was for my father, I struggled immensely, never enjoying anything I did, except for fishing. Any weekend I could get free and come home, I would spend with my dad, just like old times. I couldn't see if then but things were changing. I didn't mind that we weren't catching much on our trips, it only mattered that I was away from the city, enjoying a quiet excitement. There came a weekend that I arrived and my father could not go fishing nor could he do anything, stricken by some foreign illness that the doctors could not explain. And so, I sat where you are sitting now, worried and distraught over the descending state of my old mans health, wishing only to go fishing with him just one more time. And from the very man my sorrow was being caused by, he supplied an answer, as if he heard my thoughts, knew what I needed to hear. He looked at me with these eyes, a gaze that pierced down into my soul, the very memory still gives me chills of those icy blue fading eyes fixated on me, a seriousness unlike anything he had ever revealed to me before. I want you to remember everything I am about to tell you, Caleb, sear these words in your mind. Do this for me and you will not regret it. My father, lying there, dying, gave me clear instructions on what to do upon his death. I expect the same from you. He looked at me and said..."
Great Grandfather speaking:
"Son, listen to me carefully, for I shall not tell you again. When I die, no matter the objections or ramifications of this action, I want you to take my ashes to a specific place. During the New Moon, when the sky is dark and the waters are still, visit the Black Lake. Venture out where an old tree pierces the top of the water, thriving even though drowned. Dump my ashes upon its limbs and speak my name, my whole name, Garfield Alexander Almaker. Then, you must anchor next to the waterlogged branches and sleep through the night until the sun is risen. If you do this for me, you shall be doing this for yourself as well. Tell no one of this, boy, I warn you, not until death comes for you. Do you promise me this, son? Will you return me to the waters I am so fond of?"
"Did you take his ashes, grandpa?" Caleb asked, the boy enthralled by this tale, knowing his grandfather to be a mighty storyteller. "I did, Caleb," He replied with a tired expression, shadows beginning to loom in the doorway now as he focused on his grandson. "Let me continue and listen carefully." Laid back on the hospital bed pillow, fluorescent light beating down on him, beginning the story where he left off.
"I was in college, finishing a semester, when this all unfolded. I had a few close friends that were almost like brothers to me, each of else helping the other out during those hard times. I never asked, and I should have, but my father had not stated whether I had to be alone on this journey or not, and I wish now, as much as since, that I had inquired. I assumed this to be merely a final errand for my dad, one last outing, even in death. I was a fool, Caleb. I was young and reckless, not to mention devastated. His warning not fully reaching the depths that he had hoped, and my folly causing much sorrow in the years after. But I digress, let me tell you of what happened and why this is relevant."
"We were no more than nineteen or twenty at the time, my friend and I, stupid and educated as I like to stay. A dangerous combination. Red, Derek, and Hall arrived early in the morning, before my mother was awake, stealing me and my fathers ashes away, our sights set on the Black Lake. Trip time was the majority of the day, which we spent drinking beer and listening to music along the way, poking fun at one another and simply being fools. To my surprise, a reservation was already made in my name at the lake for a boat, your great grandfather even surprising me in passing. We reached the grounds before nightfall, unloading our gear, mostly food and drink, onto the craft. The urn was placed at the helm so that my dads spirit could be better in view of the lake. A crucial fact about this trip, it was cold out thus the traffic was light. In fact, I don't remember seeing anyone else out on the water that evening. Father had provided a map with coordinates, placed at the helm by the boatman prior to our arrival. I remember him because of the way he acted, getting us situated and then immediately leaving before we were even out of the docks. Prepped, sun light fading fast, we set out for the landmark my old man had mentioned.
It took us maybe an hour before we found the spot, tucked back away in a cove surrounded by trees and boulders. We let the boat settle, opening our beers in celebration of the journey and remembrance, letting the night fade into a dark quiet, the water becoming oddly still, our boat moving without noise. We quieted ourselves out of respect, my three ship mates allowing me to take my time, knowing only what I told them. I fed them a half truth, understanding full well now that that is worse than a lie in itself. I gave them only the portion about my father wanting his ashes spread on this particular spot. I made a promised and I meant to keep it, even if I was being selfish and scared by bringing my friends. It was time, an empty sky with a shrouded moon, flat surface liquid reflecting only darkness. Opening the urn, I called out my fathers full name, dumping his remains on the cold timbers reaching out from the depths. With the deed complete, we made a toast, reminiscing of lost lives and weighty matters in our lives, the drink taking its toll on us. We retired sometime late, each of us drunk and exhausted by the excursion, sleeping under that vast void."
"It's time for your grandfather to sleep," A nurse interrupted, startling both man and boy. "But..." Caleb began, Warren quickly chiming in. "It's alright, we can continue the story tomorrow, right?" Calebs grandfather winked at him, his eyes heavy now, knowing he needed sleep, unsure if this would be the final one. Saddened, his grandson hugged him tightly then left, each wondering if they would see another, both wanting to finish the story.
"What did you and grandpa Warren talk about, son?" Calebs mother asked on the drive home. He paused before answering, his eyes looking to the bright moon in the sky. "Fishing," he said, leaving out all the details concerning their conversation. "Your grandfather has an unhealthy obsession with fishing, Caleb," She said angrily, speeding up in response. "Your father would have been just as infatuated if he were still alive. I don't want him filling your head with nonsense. Besides, he needs his rest." Caleb listened but did not care about the objections. He hardly remembered his own father and now he was losing the only person he had close to one. His grandfather was more important in his eyes than his mother understood, her believing herself to be his foundation and salvation. He could not wait to hear more of Grandpa Warrens story, regardless if it was nonsense, he enjoyed any time he could spend with him.
"My moms gone," Caleb said excitedly upon his return to the hospital room, his grandfather smiling at the excitement and attention. "Did you tell her anything about our time?" His grandfather asked, his demeanor slightly changed, almost paranoid. "No, of course not," Caleb responded quickly, worried. "I told her we talked about fishing and she got all mad. She even brought up dad." Warren relaxed, nodding at the truth the young man spoke. "Alright," Drinking some water, the bedridden man began his tale again.
"We were in the cove, asleep, alone out on that Black Lake, wind halted, sky darkened, water calmed. We awoke to a noise, the only sound beyond ourselves. A splash, movement in the water, darkness hampering our vision but each one knowing something just bumped into our boat. We saw it, that wretched thing, in the shape of a person, lurching over our bow, pulling itself aboard and into our midst. We were held by fright, a great terror washing over us, keeping any from moving. She, that drowned creature that dwelled beneath the sunken shade, heard my fathers name, breaching the surface to heed our summons. Fear held our tongues while hers was loose to grasp air unbound to hydrogen. Vomiting gallons upon the deck, her pale mouth now chattering beneath long, matted black, green hair, finally speaking."
"The debt by the one called Garfield...Alexander...Almaker...has been paid. Speak thy names and thy desires. Give me your word and you shall have mine. Name thy act so we may have a pact. Kiss thy lips, seal the deal, live your dreams as the one before you has done."
"We thought her words were nonsense. We considered the beer tainted or poisoned, perhaps an elaborate hoax by my father. Without warning, she moved upon Red, her long, bony moss covered fingers sliding around his neck and face, her face meeting his. She stared deep into his eyes then kissed him upon the lips, his face turning pale, eyes rolling back, body going limp. Before we could act, some enchantment holding us in place, she slithered from friend to friend and then upon myself, last of the four. Those cold, wet hands stunk like stagnant water, turning my stomach, her breath smelling of rotten fish. There were no words spoken but an agreement was made nonetheless. With her watery gaze, she pulled the wants from within my soul, my consciousness fading after."
"What was her name?" Caleb asked, interrupting the in depth story. Warren pondered for a moment then responded. "I don't know, Caleb," The old man thinking hard on that fact, never having considered that it had a name, or that it even mattered. "Huh, so what happened next?" Caleb beckoned on, quickly moving on from his interruption. "Next? We woke up," Warren said, his story resuming.
"A bargain was made, not voiced aloud, but made with that submerged witch, her vision revealing our deepest desires. Things from this point happen fast, unfolding as promised to us, each one reveling in their newfound life.
Red became a pro football player, even though he was kept on the bench all through his college years. His success did not stop, winning championships or MVP awards each season, years of fame and fortune.
Derek was ushered into a life of medical work, surpassing all of his peers and colleagues, taking on the role of surgeon and revolutionizing techniques and overcoming certain death scenarios for many patients.
Hall chose racing, something I was not aware he was interested in at all. He outpaced every driver, out maneuvered all motocross participants, even boating he cut through the competition.
All three men were living a dream come true. I being the odd man out, deep down only wanting to fish, no modern life seeming to fit me. And so, I set sail, conquering every expanse, every species of fish, reeling in catches larger and grander than any before, even rediscovering specimens thought to be extinct. Yet, deep down, I knew the cost of my deal. Never waning from the pact made on that starless night, my soul imprinted with a price tag."
Caleb looked troubled by this portion of the story causing Warren to pause and inquire. "What troubles you, boy?" His grandfather asked, curious as to the answer. "I don't see how this story is bad, grandpa. Even if it's crazy sounding, you haven't done anything wrong." Warren hung his head at those words, his grandson correct but only because he had halted the tale. "What I tell you next is the worst part, the reason I made you swear to never speak of this, to anyone." Caleb furrowed his brow and nodded in compliance. Warren took a deep breath, readying himself to reveal the next segment.
"I kept my part of the deal but the others did not. As such, I had to uphold the laws of the pact. Unspoken but known, each of us warned of repercussions from the very beginning. Payment would come, with interest, for the one who did not fulfill his part of the bargain. Red was supposed to maintain a winning streak for twenty five years, stopping after only ten years. Derek had only to let one child die of a wealthy family, payment swaying his mind instead. Hall did the best of the three, having only to win in each type of race for a span of thirty years. His arrogance caused him to over schedule races, meaning he failed one by no show. As for myself, all I had to do was fish, realistically. For forty years, I must win a championship per year, and I did just that, never letting myself become distracted or greedy. What more did I want than to fish?
And so, time passed for each of us, but not without notice. Some time after their failings, I had a dream, perhaps a vision, that left me sleepless from that point, plaguing my mind. The lake hag visited me on a moonless night, haunting my rest, dragging me back to those dark waters in my mind. She told me that our bargain was incomplete, the others having failed in their endeavors. The four of us having lost track of time and not seeing one another for a long while, yet their problems seemed to be separate from my own. I had kept my word, I did what we agreed upon, their lives were not my responsibility. Oh, how I was wrong. I had brought them along that night, their bargains belonging to me in turn. This was an agreement made long ago by blood and I had sullied it therefore their failures were mine to bear. She left me racked with guilt, tortured by the decision I had to make. I called upon the other three after some deliberation. It was time for a gathering of the four after so many years.
We met at the Black Lake, many years having passed since our fates were altered by my fathers ashen call. This would be a celebration in honor of our success, tribute to the place where the tides had changed. I owned a house boat there at the time, plenty of room for the four of us to enjoy ourselves and talk of our deeds and merits. Asking for three, I was met by six, each one presenting some trophy wife or gold digger. It was unfortunate but this was a special occasion and I did not want to make a fuss over something so trivial. Together, the seven of us left the docks, heading out to that distant and strange cove.
We arrived, moon full, brimming with energy, illuminating the waters skin. We toasted, we danced, we shared stories. It was a pleasant evening for all, the four of us never speaking of the pact in front of the women but each man knowing the significance of the place. Each couple turned in until I was the only soul still stirring, drinking deep and staring across the lakes dancing body. A bump against the boat finally signaling me to address the oath breakers.
She followed me, to each of their rooms, watching as I slit their throats and stabbed their bodies, witnessing the payment that I had to pay for their broken promises. The wives were not part of the original plan but she assured me that they would be taken as a bonus, for the future. I slaughtered my friends and their loved ones as we drifted in a cove of silent death, a being of supernatural descent shadowing me during each kill, making me pay for the transgressions of my carelessness. I did this so that she did not drown my own family in blood, gladly taking a life for life, three for three, my wife, son, and future grandson being the ones targeted. I tried bargaining my own life but our previous transaction was completed and could not be transferred or altered. Do you understand what I am telling you, Caleb?"
Shaken, the boy did not answer, he was near tears, but when he spoke Warren was shocked by what he asked. "If this is all true..." His grandsons words raising his hair. "Then, why did my father have to die? Why is he dead if you did what you said?" This was the guilt he had that he needed to reveal. A burning question from his kin and an answer that would sear deeper. "I may be an angler, and have carved plenty of fish, but I am amateur in the matters of murder. I thought I had finished each of the three but I was wrong. Furious, as if I had tricked her, that thing took your father from us. I had corrected my mistake too late. Upon returning home from my sinister trip, your mother informed me of your fathers sudden passing. He drowned while fishing alone that weekend, or that what they said happened. I knew that she came for him because I angered her. I caused the death of my son, the death of your father, because I was a fool. Misfortune gripped our family thanks to my carelessness. I lay here, waiting for death, only hoping that you will forgive me." Caleb said nothing, the two sitting in silence for a long while, both staring out of the window at the night sky.
No stars in sight, the moon blanketed in darkness, waters motionless, silent. With a splash, Caleb spoke. "Warren Garfield Almaker...I forgive you!" Cremated remains merged with the black waters, sinking into the dark calm. Caleb looked down into the bleak abyss staring at a shaded image of himself. He pulled his coat tight and lay down upon the deck, wrapping a blanket over himself.
Thudding the boat, a pale, damp figure pulled itself aboard, expelling putrid liquid onto the deck. She crawled her way over to meet Calebs face, his gaze awaiting hers, black, kelp like hair dragged across him as she moved over the teen.
With wreaking breath she speaks,
"The debt by the one called Warren...Garfield...Almaker...has been paid. Speak thy name and thy desires. Give me your word and you shall have mine. Name thy act so we may have a pact. Kiss thy lips, seal the deal, live your dreams as the one before you has done."
Her fingers crawled across his scalp and onto his face and neck. Without words, she leaned down and kissed him, Calebs eyes fluttering wildly before falling into a deep slumber. A new pact made without lights in the sky, hushed water haunted by the faces of the dead. A name for a name...