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    The Bowl and the Stone: A Haunting Tale from the Virgin Islands
    The Bowl and the Stone: A Haunting Tale from the Virgin Islands
    The Bowl and the Stone: A Haunting Tale from the Virgin Islands
    Ebook125 pages1 hour

    The Bowl and the Stone: A Haunting Tale from the Virgin Islands

    By Bish Denham

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    About this ebook

    Pirates. Explorers. And spooky ghost hunters.

    It’s 1962. Sam and her best friend, Nick, have the whole island of St. John, in the U. S. Virgin Islands, as their playground. They’ve got 240 year-old sugar plantation ruins to explore, beaches to swim, and trails to hike.

    But when a man disappears like a vapor right in front of them, they must confront a scary new reality. They’re being haunted. By whom? And why? He’s even creeping into Nick’s dreams.

    They need help, but the one who might be able to give it is Trumps, a reclusive hunchback who doesn’t like people, especially kids. Are Sam and Nick brave enough to face him? And if they do, will he listen to them?

    As their carefree summer games turn into eerie hauntings, Sam and Nick learn more about themselves and life than they could ever have imagined.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherBish Denham
    Release dateOct 3, 2016
    ISBN9781311681966
    The Bowl and the Stone: A Haunting Tale from the Virgin Islands
    Author

    Bish Denham

    Bish Denham's family has been in the Caribbean for over a hundred years. She was raised in the U. S. Virgin Islands and still has lots of family living there. She says, "Growing up in the islands was like living inside a history book. Columbus named them, Sir Francis Drake sailed through the area, and Alexander Hamilton was raised on St. Croix. Pirates plied the waters and hundred of years of slavery left its indelible mark. It was within this atmosphere of magic and wonder that I grew up. My hope is pass some of that magic and wonder on to my readers."

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      Book preview

      The Bowl and the Stone - Bish Denham

      THE BOWL AND THE STONE

      A Haunting Tale from the Virgin Islands

      bowl_and_stone_glyph

      By Bish Denham

      Copyright 2016 by Bish Denham

      Published by Bound Post Publishing

      P. O. Box 293793

      Kerrville, Texas 78028

      ISBN 978-0-9860494-5-3

      This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

      All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in a retrieval system in any form – either mechanically, electronically, photocopy, recording, or other – except for short quotations in printed reviews, without the permission of the publisher.

      Cover art by Adrienne Saldivar copyright 2016

      For Jay,

      who kept us all laughing.

      Table of Contents

      1. It’s Just a Game

      2. The Air is Different

      3. Trumps

      4. I have to think about it.

      5. Annaberg

      6. Fourth of July

      7. Eggs and Scorpions

      8. The Quarry

      9. Of Dreams and a Rain Storm

      10. The Bowl and the Stone

      11. He Looked as Solid as You or Me

      12. A Clear Blackness

      13. Hebrews 5:7

      14. An Overwhelming Sense of Joy

      15. Goodbye

      Author’s Note

      Glossary

      Acknowledgments

      About the Author

      Chapter One

      It’s Just a Game

      bowl_and_stone_glyph

      "Steady as she goes, Dr. Glenhill!" My knuckles turn white as I grip the broomstick tiller.

      Nick keeps lookout at the bow. Watch those rocks to port, Dr. Seabright!

      Leaning all my weight on the broom handle, I strain to steer the heavy raft away from the black, jagged rocks which loom dangerously close.

      Hang on! Here come the rapids! Nick grabs a rope to keep from being flung overboard. Spray flies everywhere, drenching us.

      I warn Nick I’ve lost the broom to the roaring waters, but my words are whipped away by wind and spray. I’m thrown to the deck and reach out wildly to flapping rope. Nick grabs my hand to keep me from falling into foaming waters. With his other hand he uses a mop handle to shove the raft away from the fang-like rocks.

      We’re not gonna make it!

      I can barely hear what he’s saying and lean towards his ear. Got to, I yell.

      Whitewater and wind swallow my voice. As soon as the words are out, the river becomes a slow, meandering ribbon of brown water.

      From far away we hear a voice. Nick, Samantha. Lunch is ready! Come wash up.

      Nick drops the mop handle, ready to quit.

      Wait. Let’s steer the raft to the bank. Navigating the Amazonian rapids is exhausting, but it’s vital we get our medical supplies and food to the Indians.

      We land the overloaded raft and jump ashore. Trees, weighted down with monkeys and vines, lean over a sluggish river. It’s hard to believe a minute ago we were in a raging torrent. The air is alive with the noise of birds, animals, and insects. Tiny Indians, with feathers pierced through their noses, gather around us. They’re happy we’ve survived the journey and have brought life-saving medicines for their sick children.

      Doctors Seabright and Glenhill are heroes once again. We take chances going places no other doctors will go, saving lives no one else will bother with.

      Nick and I shake hands, congratulating ourselves. It’s the unspoken signal our game is over, and it’s time to return to reality.

      Entering the cool shade of the kitchen Nick asks, Limeade?

      I swipe a hand across my brow, pushing back damp curls. You bet.

      Although the concrete cistern we use as a raft is grounded to the earth, it’s never land bound. It’s always a water vehicle of some kind: a Viking longship, Cleopatra’s barge on the Nile, or a riverboat going down the Mississippi when I play Tom to Nick’s Huck. But most often it’s a pirate ship. Living as we do, on St. John in the U.S. Virgin Islands, it makes perfect sense.

      When we play at pirates, sometimes I’m a kidnapped damsel in distress. Then Nick has two parts to play: the villainous pirate and the hero. Sometimes I’m the pirate captain, and Nick’s my first mate or a captured enemy. Mostly, though, we’re joint owners of our ship, The Frigate Bird, buccaneers serving Her Royal Highness, Queen Elizabeth. Our job? To capture Spanish galleons and take as much gold and silver as we can for our sovereign. We’re not only friends with Sir Walter Raleigh and Sir Francis Drake, we’re favorites of the Queen, who has knighted us for our bravery.

      At the kitchen sink, I splash cold water on my face and neck. I Can’t Stop Loving You, by Ray Charles is playing on the radio in the living room while Maggie, Nick’s little sister, pitches a fit.

      He makes a face and pulls at his light brown hair. She’s gotten fussy lately, and it’s driving me crazy. I don’t know how Mom puts up with her. He hands me a glass of cold, sweet and tangy limeade. By the way, Mom said the party’s a go and we can use The Red House.

      Great. I raise my glass. To friendship!

      To our twelfth birthday!

      Between gulps I say, Yeah, we’ve got two weeks to plan our birthday bash.

      Nick and I have known each other since we were six. We’ve had joint parties ever since then because our birthdays are a week apart.

      This is going to be the best kick-off to the summer ever. Here’s to 1962! You’ll never guess what I’m going to be. Nick waggles his eyebrows at me.

      We decided it’s going to be a costume party. Halloween in June. Oh, yeah? What?

      Let me show you. He goes outside, returning seconds later with a lobster shell. I’ve had this thing on an ant mound for a week to get all the little bits of meat eaten off. The shell is big enough to cover his face. Looky here. A couple of holes for eyes and I’ve got a mask! He holds it up, and the long spiny feelers sticking out of the top turns him into an alien nightmare. Mom’s got a pair of old, red tights she said I can have. I’ll put my red swim trunks over them, wear a red T-shirt and presto, his voice becomes low and ominous, I’m The Crustacean of Doom. Wha’d’ya think?

      He hands me the carapace to examine. Wow, it’s great! But what evil lurks in the heart of this Crustacean of Doom?

      In his best radio announcer voice Nick explains. When the government exploded a hydrogen bomb near an atoll, a marine biologist studying the effects of radiation on crustaceans is transformed while handling a lobster. Now he wanders the earth seeking vengeance, vowing to turn every human into one kind of crustacean or another. These humans, called Crusties, go out and transform more humans into other Crusties.

      Cool!

      Nick takes a swallow of limeade. So what’re you coming as?

      I grin. Well, it seems obvious. I have to go as your archenemy.

      With a mouth full of sandwich, he asks, And who would she be?

      "Snare Woman, a marine biologist who feels sorry for the Crustacean of Doom. She’s developed a bio-electric snare that turns Crusties back into humans. She wants to capture the C. of D. and change him back, but she’s always one step behind him. However, with snare in hand, she turns those he’s crustisized back into humans. Yeah, I can see me now. I’ll wear my swimsuit, mask and snorkel and have a beach towel tied around my neck for a cape. Plus, I’ll be carrying, The Trans-Snare."

      Nick laughs. Boy, are we going to be weird, or what?

      Weird is good.

      After we’ve eaten and cooled down, we decide to check out The Red House, which is unoccupied at the moment. Nick’s mother manages the six rental cottages at Gallows Point. They live in The Gatehouse, which is at the entrance of the property.

      It’s called The Red House because the concrete block walls are painted a deep brick red. The cottage overlooks Frank Bay, a beach where we play at being merpeople who eat

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