Legend of the Woods
Episode 2, The Past, the Future, and a Ghostly Encounter
The continuation of this tale was inspired by the writing prompts of Christine Graves
It was the summer of 1842 when the Frilariums arrived in the vast expanse of the new world. New Orleans at that time was a bustling city and a famous port of arrival.
“There are a great lot of people in this city, sir,” Heydrick Merkers said.
“It is the second most populated city in the United States, Heydrick, and the reason why we are leaving as soon as possible. So get it all unloaded and prepared to move as quickly as possible,” Poddarius Frilarium IV said.
“What would you have me do, Father?” Poddarius Frilarium V asked.
“You be Heydrick’s shadow and assistant, son. Learn all he knows, follow his lead.”
“Yes, sir.”
Heydrick and Poddarius, the son, moved off at a brisk pace. The teen took in the scenes of the largest city he had ever seen and only the second large city he had ever visited. So, his mind was still twisted in knots at the site of the dozens of masted cargo ships and steam-powered vessels moored to the docks with barely any space between them. While chaotic, the frenzied action of the Shoremen who were loading and unloading the cargo and people seemed choreographed.
On the long ride from New Orleans to the new Frilarium family estate just North of the Arkansas border with Louisiana, Poddarius Frilarium V, the son, drew pictures depicting the sights and sounds of New Orleans. He never wanted to forget the experience. Their new home was a ten-mile square plot of land with the Ouachita River running through it. Several large villages of the Caddo people lived within the estate.
Heydrick rode horseback next to the wagon Poddarius was riding on. They spoke along the way. Harry Peal, the lead cowboy on his horse next to Heydrick, was the vision of an American cowboy in Poddarius’s eyes. A large hat and greasy hair appeared as if trimmed by a drunk man with a knife. He wore a big bushy mustache and constantly chewed on a toothpick. Every so often, the cowboy would spit some brown liquid; Poddarius figured it was produced by the big wad of something the man had stuffed in his cheek.
Frilarium Farms, summer of 2000
“Wow, look at that, Clarisa; it seems like Great Grandpa could draw really good too.” The girls were flipping through one of ten books labeled The Frilarium Family History.
“Draw well, dear,” her mother said.
“Draw well,” Abby said.
“Mother, it says here that the wagon train from New Orleans consisted of One Hundred and Fifty Wagons. Have you seen the list of the things they brought from the old world?”
“Dear, of course, I have. You don’t think I believe that they brought all those crazy creatures your Great-Great-Grandfather describes, do you?”
The family sat in the large sitting room at the front of the house, a roaring fire burning on the great hearth.
“Papa, you grew up here; tell us, are they real?”
“Clarisa, I am allowing the Caddo tribe to maintain residence and protect the land. I will not allow you two to have anything more to do with this farm. You are lucky I am even allowing you to look at those books.”
“Papa,” Clarisa’s tone was on the edge of sadness and pleading.
“I still think you should sell the whole mess and be done with it,” Mrs. Frilarium said.
“I can’t; the trust prohibits the sale as long as there is a surviving Frilarium.”
“Ah hum,” a man in the shadow of the hall cleared his throat at the edge of the room, only half-revealed by the lights they enjoyed.
“Vrey, enter, please,” their father said, sitting forward in his seat.
“Sir, the rooms have been cleaned and checked.”
Abby elbowed Clarisa when Vrey, a tall Caddo man, paused and stared at their father, his eyes opening wide. Their father nodded.
“The beds are turned down, and the heaters have been on for an hour now. They are ready whenever you wish to retire.”
Clarisa didn’t like that long pause and strange exchange between her father and the slender man. Vrey looked out of place. His attire said Cowboy, not a butler.
“Excuse me, Vrey, why is your skin so dark?” Abby asked.
Her mother gasped.
“Abby,” Clarisa said.
“Ha ha ha ha,” Vrey boomed, his laughter deep and thunderous; the room echoed, startling everyone. “Dear Ms. Abby, I am Caddo. All my people have this dark skin; it is how the Great Creator made us.”
“Wow,” Abby said, staring.
“Abby dear, don’t stare; it is rude,” Mama said.
“Yes, Mama. Sorry, Vrey.”
“It is ok, Ms. Abby; I am not troubled by your curiosity.”
“Thank you, Vrey; we have an early morning, so let us get on to bed now, girls.”
“Oh, Mama. Papa, can’t we read a little longer.”
“Abby. Come come, girls, up to bed with you, wash up, and get changed; we will be in shortly to say good night,” Mama interrupted.
Mr. Frilarium and Vrey went through the kitchen to the back porch, where Papa lit his pipe and Vrey lit a cigarette.
“Thank you, Sir, for maintaining the accord your Great-Great-Grandfather created with the Caddo for the benefit of our tribe and the creatures of the Mist.”
“Vrey, I hope you never thought I would betray your people or the wondrous mystical world that lies within the borders of Frilarium Farms. Your people must maintain, I am afraid, a working farm as to keep the prying eyes and sticky fingers of the government away.”
“Yes, sir, this will not be a problem.”
“Good.”
The two men stood smoking and staring off into the woods bordering the house’s tailored lawn. Multiple sets of eyes watched them from the dark.
The night flowed on; Abby woke. The distinct sound of clicking followed by scratching and more clicking floated in the air. The small night light near the door spun eerie shadows on the ceiling and walls. She sat up, put her feet into her pink bunny slippers, and shuffled to Clarisa’s bed.
“Claree, wake up,” she gently touched her sister’s arm.
“Humm, what is it, Abs? Go back to bed.”
“Shh, listen.”
The two girls sat in silence as the shadows danced across the room. Click, click, click, click, pause, click, click, scratch, scratch. And again, a slight pattern of clicks and scratches emerged as they listened; it never paused for more than a few seconds.
“What is it,” Clarisa whispered. She spun, letting her feet touch the floor and slipping into her gray slippers with mouse ears and a mouse face.
“I’m not sure,” Abby said.
Before the two girls realized it, they had made their way out of the bedroom door into the hall, up the stairs to the third floor, and to the second door on the left. Behind the door, the source of the eerie sounds resided. Slowly they turned the knob and opened the door. Before them, in an office, Clarisa did not know existed, sat a wispy green, ghostly figure. The back of the chair it sat in was visible through the rolling clouds of its torso.
“Ah, it’s Heydrick Merkers. I recognize him from the portrait in the book,” Abby said.
The figure held a calculator and pushed buttons, click, click, click. Next, he picked up a pencil and wrote on a pad of paper, scratch, scratch, then put the pencil down and paused, looking at the paper. Instead of continuing, he looked at the girls.
“The young ladies should have knocked, Halpus. It is rude to interrupt a man while he is working,” he said.
“Indeed, sir, it is,” the girls now noticed a fluorescent green millipede-like creature with glasses and a pipe poised on the desk near the apparition of Heydrick Merkers. Halpus shared the translucency of Heydrick.
“Close your mouths, girls; you don’t want to catch flies, do you?” Halpus asked, looking at the girls.
Clarisa and Abby quickly closed their mouths as they had been slack-jawed, staring at the ghostly figures before them.
“Come in, girls; I’m almost finished with the calculations. Maybe you would like to take a message to Mort, the lord of the mystic realms, for me? I was going to ask your father, but his vision is clouded of late,” Heydrick said.
“Sure!” Abby said.
“Shh, you will wake Mother,” Clarisa said.
“Oops, sorry.”
“Where do we need to go to deliver the message, and why can’t you do it?” Clarisa asked.
“Silly girl, we don’t have time to explain the mysteries of the universe. Will you help us, or should I call upon Vrey?” Halpus said.
“No, no, we’ll go, we’ll go,” Abby said. “I want to see the Cregal Dai-Small.”
“Great, now go get dressed; you will need your boots and jackets,” Heydrick said.
“Yes, and we will need something for them to present to the Gremorians,” Halpus said.
“Wait, Abby,” Clarisa said as Abby ran from the office to get ready.
“Gremorians, what are Gremorians?” She asked the ghostly visions before her.
“The Gremorians are the guardians of the Realms of mystical beings. They hide in the thick underbrush of the woods, waiting for trespassers. If you go, take the laundry basket and the box of toothpicks. They love laundry baskets and toothpicks. You will gain safe passage if you give them the items,” the ghostly apparition of Heydrick Merkers said. Then he returned to the calculator, paper, and pencil and continued. Click, click, click, click, pause, click, click, scratch, scratch.
“If you go,” Halpus said.
You can find Episode 3 here.
The first episode can be found here
© 2022, T. Mark Mangum
I am T.Mark Mangum. From an early age, I was hooked and addicted to the imagined, unfathomable worlds of Star Wars, Star Trek, Conan, the Lord of the Rings, and many others. I love writing fiction tales. I love writing in multiple genres. However, my favorites are Sci-fi and Fantasy fiction. I am a father of six; we have two cats and two dogs. Tabletop gaming is a passion.
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