Black Water

By V.L. Downs

When a body of a teen boy washes up on shore with a strange wound in his foot and slash mark in his chest wall, Eccentrics Gazette writer, Clovey Alms becomes haunted by the sight. She had come to Black Water to be close to her brother, Blake, who was incarcerated for vehicular Manslaughter. Sid Smeyth, her editor and owner of the magazine hadn’t minded that she was a little rough around the edges, so the town seemed like the perfect fit.

She sets out to see if this has happened before, it becomes more frightening when her research turns up several drowning deaths that have occurred in the same area. Max Witwer, a well-known investigative reporter from Florida has also stumbled on to the deaths along the coast. When they compare notes a mutual interest begins, not only in the story, but with each other as well.

After Blake disappears on the beach like the other boy’s along the coast, Clovey and Max figure a night on the beach will hopefully turn up some answers. What does turn up on the beach is completely unbelievable.
A woman with long blonde hair and completely nude, swims nearly silently up on shore. Her eyes glow gold and her poignant song that she sings is able to lull the boy lying on the beach into a trance. This allows her to slice deep slashes into his chest wall without much of a fight and pull him into the ocean.

Every attempt is made to tell the police chief, Fred Matline what they had seen. He refuses to accept the story and accuses Clovey of filing a false report. Instead of investigating what he‘s been told, he warns her to drop it. She turns the tables and begins investigating him. Which turn up a son sent to live with his sister in Michigan. Her investigation wasn’t limited to the sheriff, it also turns up another long term town council member with two son’s that abruptly moved out of Black Water to settle in Indiana.

Having that gut feeling again Clovey takes an impromptu trip to talk with the departed council member and to see if she can get a look at the Sheriff’s son. Her trip fuels her suspicions, leading her to conclude that she and Max are going to have to do some ocean dives during the night.

Looking for a glow in the water that is rumored to be the spot where the mythical maids can be found. Clovey, Max and Luc, the newly recovered town drunk, head out on to the water. After an hour or so, they locate the glow and dive to see what they can find.
Not only do they find mermaids, but young males, deep in a trance and tied to a piece of boat wreckage by braided sea kelp threaded through their feet. They also locate a graveyard of bodies, in varying degrees of decomposition. When one of the maid swims into view with another male being dragged by a kelp rope, Clovey recognizes him, it’s Blake.
It’s not long till they are detected by the now enraged mermaids and a battle ensues. Clovey grabs Blake as Max battles the ocean witches, giving Clovey time to get Blake back to the boat.
Blake and Clovey return to the boat, followed by a slightly injured Max. They begin to head for home, when a splash at the back of the boat catches Clovey’s attention. Two of the maids jump onto the boat behind Blake and pull him back into the ocean. Every attempt is made to rescue him, but he is gone. Clovey is angry and heartbroken.

A second dive, the next day, proves unfruitful. Max and Clovey file a report with the State troopers in Perkins Cove about the graveyard on the ocean floor, leaving out the part of the mermaids. Choosing instead to write about it.

With no reason to stay in Black Water, Clovey decides that this will be her last article for the Eccentrics Gazette. She and Max are going hunting for the mermaids. Her final written words are “HOLD ON BLAKE, I’M COMING FOR YOU!”
* Clovey’s story continues in Black Water, change of venue. 2015

• Language: English
• Publisher: V.L. Downs
• Release date: Jun 22, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311716415

V.L. Downs

V. L. Downs lives in beautiful Michigan with her husband of thirty years, daughter and dwarf Norwegian rabbit named Petey. She started writing in high school with an eye on college. Life happened, after the death of her mother, she stayed home to help out. Several years later, was able to squeeze in a couple years of college, before leaving to care for her ailing father. Now, with life experience and a good imagination, she has returned to the wonderful world of storytelling.V.L loves stories where average, everyday people find themselves caught up in unbelievable mystical situations that change their lives forever.

Book preview

Black Water

By V.L. Downs

Copyright 2014 V.L. Downs

Smashwords Edition

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CHAPTER ONE

There is something dark about coastal towns. It could be the unrelenting way the town’s folk protect their secrets, those things that are frightening, things that are forbidden. Their smiling faces mask the sinister truth that is hidden behind every unguarded glance. It’s the devious way that they watch you through their store front windows or the concocted small town chatter they greet you with as if you were a part of their family, but they are deceivers. There is a danger in their smiling faces; it is a calculated attempt at hometown hospitality to put you at ease. They tip their basketball caps and give you a jovial Mornin! but all of this is just a charade.

Even the children of these burgs pause as they are loading on to their school buses and they meet your glance. They watch you, having already mastered the look that welcomes you, while keeping all outsiders at arm’s length. These young ones are already beginning to exhibit the signs of clandestine lives that they will guard as adults.

I use to wonder what it was that made these towns so different from any other cross roads with a gas station and a grocery store. After watching as an outsider, in this town known as Black Water I believe the answer is its people’s relationship to the ocean.

There is something that infects those who come to live here like a poison that hangs in the air. It gets sucked into your lungs with every breath. It could be the way the water smells when it comes rushing in just before a storm, or the sounds the waves make as they slap the lime stone rocks that line the coast. Maybe the hypnotic cries of the birds that call, on the water’s behalf, to all that dwell here to come and play in the white caps or fish in its depths. The water murmurs its invitation. Give no thought to harm, I am in your blood and you and yours are in mine. but don’t listen. It’s a specter that continually whispers in the ears of every inhabitant of this small borough. All who dwell here; by choice or chance seem to be captivated by the dark beauty of this place… Even me. This is Black Water.

The name on my amended birth certificate is Clovey Alms. It took three weeks for it to be decided what I should be called. I use to wonder what the alternatives could have possibly been, but like a new pair of jeans, after a little wear and tear, they fit you just right and so did my name. I have been told that I looked like the girl next door I guess I could see why some would say that with my perky bob haircut and green eyes, but most reconsider after they watch me walk away. The view of me in my thigh high kicks, torn jeans, sporting the words I am buzzed into the back of my bob haircut, followed by the word Relentless tattooed in scroll on the back of my neck, it doesn‘t exactly scream Miss hometown harvest queen. It does stir up a few stares and whispers as folks get a good look, some are even brave enough to ask about it. I usually just smile and let it speak for itself. As for me, it’s a testament to how I have survived. I learned to be relentless and to never give up!

I did not grow up here. I grew up in the lower east side of Manhattan. In a section that wasn’t trendy. Being the first born of a methamphetamine addict who ended up with a voracious habit, I can honestly say that I was the fortunate one. She was sixteen when she had me and hadn‘t selected her drug of choice yet. My brother Blake wasn’t as fortunate. Candy was using daily by the time she accidentally became pregnant with Blake, I was seven. She promised to stop using, but tweaked every day until she delivered him almost two months premature. That was when I started being his only true family. Looking back, I am amazed that the kid survived at all. Candy pretended to play mommy for a couple months, then began disappearing for days a time and eventually didn’t return at all. Blake and I ended up in foster care.

Our childhood was like one of those pathetic stories they make a movie of the week about. The tear jerker that makes everyone sad until one of the character triumphs over adversity and makes a success of them. Blake and I were the two unfortunate children that grew up without parents. We were shoved in one foster home and then into another with the threat of separation hanging over us like death, but we survived. I wrote and learned everything I could, directing all my aggression and disappointment into school. For Blake it wasn’t that easy, he wasn’t as equipped to focus his rage and it usually came spilling out in some destructive outbursts or tantrum. Our virtuous care givers were always the disciplined role models that were going to beat Blake’s demons out of him.

Who the hell were they? Blake was a meth baby with all its problems and struggles. So when they went after him, I was the wall they hit as they handed down their versions of correction. It usually only happened once, they soon learned that there was no fucking way I would allow some paycheck seeking do gooder to hurt him. But when he stole a car and took his eyes off the road to text a friend, I couldn’t protect him anymore. The legal term is vehicular manslaughter, when you sideswipe a cop’s kid and kill him. He ended up sentenced to Moresilette Juvenile facility.

I finished school, went to college and got a degree in journalism. I came to Black Water, Massachusetts because I needed to be close to Moresilette where Blake was at. It just happened that Black Water was also the home of The Eccentrics Gazette. A quirky magazine that covers everything from Area 51 to a ten-year old Amish kid that seems to have super human strength. That was the story I just returned from. I took this job because it paid the bills and Sid Smeyth, the owner, editor and publisher wasn’t bothered by the way I looked or the problems I had. He thought I was a pretty good writer and the fact that I didn’t mind taking the bus to all the destinations for my stories. He gave me the job with just a glance at my writing samples.

Sid fancied himself a cut throat journalist. He even wore a gray felt fedora with a folded card stuck in the hat’s felt band, like you would see on journalist in press reels from the 1940’s. I was pretty sure the card even had the words PRESS written inside, but with his faded blue jeans and bowling shirt combo, he looked more like a cheesy playboy than a serious journalist. Hell, I didn’t care, he could have looked like Santa Claus, as long as the jobs kept coming and he left me alone to write stories for him.

I had spent the weekend in Pennsylvania gathering details about Jacob Lobe, the super strong Amish kid. I wrote my rough copy on the bus coming back and was meeting Sid at Beverly’s by the Bay. It was the main restaurant in Black Water and everyone came to eat there. Well, I say everyone. That isn’t completely true. The Brennen brothers ran a food truck, parked just down the road from Beverly’s. If you wanted something quick and resembling fast food, a burger or burrito, Brennen’s Hot Box is your place. Sid liked to eat his breakfast on Beverly’s deck outside overlooking the water. He said that the ocean air and coffee was the perfect way to start the day. So I knew that there was no point in going to the office, Beverlys would be where I would find him. Besides, it was a nice morning to walk and Sid owed me breakfast anyway.

I had to admit that I wasn’t paying attention and I hadn’t heard the sirens when I stepped off the curb. I turned to look just in time to see the cop car heading right for me. I closed my eyes expecting a painful impact when suddenly I was jerked out of the road. Realizing that I hadn’t become road kill. I took a deep breath and opened my eyes to find someone’s arms wrapped tightly around me. Whoever had a hold of me wasn’t letting go so I twisted around to see who had saved me. Looking sheepishly down at me was weatherworn, unshaven face of Luc, Black Water’s resident drunk. He was emitting an overwhelming odor of cheap whiskey, old beer, and B.O. that wrapped itself around me as tightly as his grip. More beautiful and none can compare…ye give them a kiss, if you dare. Luc muttered as he let me go. Thanks Luc if you…what are you saying? I asked. He smiled a toothless smile, hesitated as if he wasn‘t sure what to do now and continuing to mutter.

"A tear they will give to fire your concern."

Then he headed toward the alley between the post office and the vacant dime store continuing to ramble on. Then into the water will take you and you will never return. Luc, let me buy you breakfast! I offered as I followed after him. We were almost completely through the alley when I reached out and grabbed the back of his shirt making him stop. Luc looked at me with his blood shot eyes, smiled a half-assed grin and leaned in to tell me something. I closed my eyes so I could focus on what he was about to say because, frankly, the smell of his breath as he began to whisper was nauseating. More beautiful, none can compare, give um a kiss boys if you dare. My Kevin never...came back…he dared. He patted me gently on the face, turned abruptly and teetered on to the adjacent street, stumbling off with a drunkard’s gate. I couldn’t help but feel bad for him. I knew what lost hope was like and he reeked of it

I learned about Luc shortly after I came to Black Water. If you spent any time in town eventually you would run into or trip over him. Lucifer M. Corsettie had not always been this way. He was the son of a fishing boat captain. Robert Corsettie, who was a hard man for any young boy to have as a father. He was extremely demanding and could be abusive when he had been drinking. Robert had never really wanted kids and referred to them as little demons. That is probably why he settled on Lucifer. for his son’s name. I had first assumed it was a family name of some kind, you know, something passed down for generations, but it was nothing that inspirational. Bob Corsettie just had no tolerance for children at all; to him they were all the devil.

The story I got from one of the Brennen brothers was that Luc had quit school after he had finished eighth grade. Bob had insisted. He had made no secret about the fact that he thought young men that went to college were some kind of fairies. His boy would learn a trade or he would kill him. Luc did his best to fulfill the old man’s wishes. He learned every detail about the boats. He was up early and stayed late on whichever boat they were working. I imagined to find a way to squeeze even a drop of love from his old man’s black heart.

The most notorious story about their relationship had been told and retold for years, in varying versions. This is how I have pieced it together; Luc, his father and a crew of three other men had headed out for a full day of fishing, loaded to the hilt with traps. Robert had instructed Luc to inspect the lines holding the traps to the deck. Luc did what his father had asked, rechecking them again just to make sure. The winds that morning were brisk and the boat was jostled about. By the time they got to deeper waters, someone had replaced one of the high pressure bands with some simple wine rope and the traps broke free. Six or seven went over the side and Robert became enraged. He threw Luc off the boat into the water and was heard shouting watch the gear, you son of a bitch! Next time you’ll learn to strap down the traps right! He took off and left the teenager treading water, all day, till another fishing boat saw him and picked him up. When they brought him home, he was dehydrated, sunburned and had several jellyfish stings. That was the one and only times his mother Mary stepped in between her husband and son. Luc was never on the boats with his father again.

In fact, he moved out shortly after that and got an apprentice job repairing boats. He fell in love with college coed that came to vacation on spring break and they got married. Katie and Lucifer had one son. Kevin Michael Corsettie, he was born on the fourth of July. Luc was finally happy and he thought Katie was to. Even though all the signs were there that she had grown discontented with their coastal life. When Kevin was about fourteen, Katie packed up her stuff and left. She left a note saying she missed the world she left behind. Luc and Kevin were devastated, but Luc kept it together and tried to be a good father to Kevin. He had Kevin help him on the weekends when he wasn’t in school and they had begun to carve out a life without Katie. Luc had actually believed that he could be happy with what he and Kevin had…until that hot summer evening in August.

Kevin had been working all day with his dad, doing grunt work at the marina in Perkins Cove, another coastal town just up the highway. It was time for the annual boating regatta. Which meant that every marina for twenty miles down the coast would be repairing and upgrading boats. The Black Water Marina had every slip filled waiting for service. By the time that Luc and the other guys closed up shop it was almost 10:30pm. A couple of the guys were going to the Parched Dolphin for a beer. Luc reminded them that 7 a.m. came early and they better be on time. When Kevin spotted some friends down on the beach, he pleaded with his dad to let him swim for a while. Luc agreed and that was the last time he ever saw his son.

Kevin never came home that night and Luc spent all morning looking for him. The friends he had gone to meet said they had left him on the beach putting on his tennis shoes. He was never seen again. The authorities tracked down Katie and she had no idea where her son was. Luc sat on the beach and wouldn’t leave, waiting for his son to either show up with his usual HI Dad! or for his body to wash up on the shore. He was there day and night for two weeks. Finally, Fred Matline, the county sheriff took him home and put him to bed. After that he started spending all his time at the Parched Dolphin, lost his job and his house. Now he stays wherever he can. In good weather, it’s usually on the beach…waiting.

By the time, I got back to the main road, there was a parade of the town’s folk and shop workers making their way to the pier. My natural curiosity got the best of me and I began to follow in the direction that the others were heading. I could see the flashing blue and red light from the cop car that had almost hit me, minutes before. It was parked at an angle at entrance to the lot used by beach goers. A second car blocked the walk way to the pier and one of the deputies was corralling people to one side so the emergency vehicles could get near the path. The journalist in me wanted to know what was happening and if there was a story, but the street girl in me knew the cops never let me close enough to find out anything. So I walked up the back flight of stairs that led to Beverly’s back deck. I knew I would get a much better vantage point at the top of the stairs. I had gotten halfway up when Sid’s ever familiar voice began to inappropriately shouting out Hey, you see what’s going on down there? I looked up to see Sid leaning over the edge of the outdoor patio, waving a piece of toast at me. Their saying they found a body. I said as I resumed my trek up the stairs. Really? Sid questioned as he leaned over the edge further. That’s the gossip everybody was talking about it when I got caught up in the race to the pier. My journalistic instincts also told me that gossip like that was usually half true, but with the presence of the ambulance, sheriff’s car with its lights and siren announcing their every move, they must have found something at the pier.

Hey, you think there’s anything we can use? questioned Sid as he took another bite of his toast. I’m guessing…No I said as I reached the top step and pushed open the gate leading to the patio. So tell me about the Lobe kid! Sid asked as he continued to watch the drama unfolding below. I started to tell him but his short attention span got the best of him and he motioned for me to follow him to his umbrella covered table. He waved at the waitress and pointed in my direction as I took the seat next to him. From that seat I could still keep an eye on the activities going on below. What about that kid, was it cool? Sid asked through the final bite of his slice of toast. Don’t you ever read my copy? I finished on the bus and sent it to you. I questioned as I watched him slop another piece of toast through the center of one of his sunny side ups. A middle-aged woman in black pants with a white shirt and black apron appeared next to the table. She sat down a glass of ice water and upside down coffee cup resting in a saucer in front of me.

Need a menu? she asked as she poured the hot black coffee into the cup that I turned over. I didn’t think you indulged? Sid commented as he scrabbled the other one of his sunny side ups with another piece of toast. Only, in the mornings or when I’m putting together a story, super late… I’ll have two eggs over easy, bacon, whole wheat toast and a glass of orange juice. The waitress smiled with a nod and Sid waved the women off in his usual impatient manor Now why would I read your stories when I can get the high lights from the actual reporter who saw it?

You know what Sid, you just described television. I said, sarcastically and took a sip of my cup of coffee. Damn you’re cranky in the morning. he mumbled through a mouthful of hash browns.

You owe me, you know that, don’t you?! I added changing the subject.

Yea, that’s why I’m buying you breakfast. he said swigging down half of the now temped coffee in his cup. NO, you are going to buy me breakfast and you are going to get me in to see my brother, this afternoon! You know that this weekend was family visit weekend and instead of spending time with Blake, I was out watching a Amish kid flip over a buggy so I could help you fill up that comic book you call a magazine.

Hey, I take offense to that?

NO, you don’t, you hear things like that all the time, you better get me into…. I was about to finish my scolding when I noticed something from below that caught my attention. I got up and followed the railing till it ended right over the top of the activity below. They were wheeling the gurney that held the body bag up from the pier. What are they doing with that body? slipped out. One of the deputies vanished under the deck; I could hear the door shutting to the