A Belated Halloween

Mandy and I missed Halloween because of the bee sting. A few days later we found ourselves anchored in the spookiest creek in the world. Trees with bare limbs hung over the water. Spanish moss hung from every branch, their lower ends touching the water. A nearly full moon of a demonic nature beamed down from over head on that night when we found our way into that reptilian jungle. Turtles and snakes bobbled and slithered about. "I don't see much wildlife," I told Mandy. "But they see us," she replied.

Mandy loves my stories. So, after dark, I told her about Gladys the Witch who lives among the bare trees on the swampy island across the river from the small nearby town of Enterprise South Carolina.

Gladys was the daughter of two eccentrics who lived on the swampy island, fishing and trapping anything that might get snared in their lines. After her folks passed on, Gladys lived alone trapping and fishing along the banks of the river. The people of the town of Enterprise could see the dried fish, snakes, and animal pelts that Gladys hung out to dry over the tree branches that extend over the river. She seemed to hang everything on those branches. They saw fishing line, trap lines, ropes, and unmentionables draped over those branches along with the Spanish moss, pelts and snake skins.

Occasionally, Gladys would swim across the river to the town of Enterprise to shop for basic items. She was known to be an excellent swimmer and unafraid of the snakes that patrolled the river. The local children would scatter in all directions as she climbed, dripping out of the water. They called her the witch of Waccamaw Island. And indeed she looked like a witch. Her cheeks had chubbed out to the extent that her tiny nose seemed to disappear between them. Her eyes suffered exopthalmia, a bulging that results from hypothyroidism. Her whole face had a reddish appearance, possibly the result of the home-made sour mash that she created from swampy fruit trees.

The local shopkeepers gave her what she wanted. Their superstition kept their business minds at a distance. If they offered a bill for her purchases, she would cross a few items from the bill and argue about the prices of the remaining few. Then she would simply sign the bill as if her signature would suffice as payment. The shopkeepers were too afraid to protest.

The folks of Enterprise, Southern Baptist Brethren of proper Christian persuasion, accepted Gladys as an eccentric child of God's Kingdom who was perhaps 'affected'. They prayed for her salvation every Sunday in church.

But their opinions of Gladys changed when a single-handed elderly sailor tried to anchor his boat near the very spot where Foxglove was anchored that very night. To the horror of the people of Enterprise, who enjoyed sitting on lawn chairs watching the annual migration of boaters moving south, the elderly man fell, or perhaps dove into the frigid fall water of the Waccamaw. All of the onlookers knew that the water was too cold for anyone to swim out to save him without succumbing to hypothermia themselves so they had no choice except to watch the poor man die.

But suddenly they saw 'Gladys the Witch' dive in the river and swim to save the drowning man. She heroically pulled him from the deep and flopped him like a large fish over the gunnel of his boat. She followed him into the boat and settled him in his cockpit where he could rest. She soon dove back into the water to return home.

The people of Enterprise were overwhelmed with emotion. "Gladys is no witch," they cheered. "She is a humanitarian, a child of God, a hero." They planned a celebration for her. the church collected clothes for her, the hardware store created a trophy for her, the school children planned a parade for her.

The next day, the mayor and his cronies rowed out to tell the elderly sailor about the festivities but found the boat abandoned. They rowed further then saw that the old man had committed suicide by hanging himself from his harness on a tree branch that overhung the river. Then they rowed to tell Gladys about how the town was about to honor her for her bravery.

Gladys was flattered by the town's admiration and boarded the mayor's boat to be transported back to Enterprise for the festivities. But the mayor felt compelled to tell Gladys the truth about the man that she had saved.

"It seems that he was trying to drown himself when you saved him, Gladys, I'm sorry to say. But your act of heroism is none-the-less greatly appreciated by all."

"Oh he didn't hang himself," Gladys said with a cheeky smile. "I swam back out to check on him later that night and I seen that he was still all wet so I swam him back to my island and hung him out to dry."

And in the fading light Mandy could see a shadow of some sort of object hanging under the trees that reach over Waccamaw Creek. Maybe, just maybe, he still hangs there; but only at night.