What’s Got You?
winning story for its May 2023 Flash Fiction Contest
“I believe in God the Father almighty, creator of heaven and earth. And in Jesus Christ …” the small congregation chanted. Six young boys dangled their bare feet over the edge of a pew, two pairs of which actually touched the dusty wooden planks beneath.
“Aw, this is bull—“ one of the taller boys, Jimmy from New York, began but choked off as a lady in a blue hat turned in her pew to make eye contact. The look silenced him mid-word and he chewed the inside of his lip.
The tiniest boy next to Jimmy swallowed, whispering, “You better hush talkin’ like that or she’s liable to pick a switch!” The other boys nodded vigorously in shared anxiety.
Jimmy didn’t care. “Hey you guys want to ditch? I’m not listening to this crackpot talk about some fairy stories all morning when I could be fishing.” He knew they wouldn’t skip, but they were fascinated by his “yankee” accent and his stories of all the trouble he would get into when he was back home from his Aunt’s house in Yazoo City, Mississippi. His father had shipped him here for a whole summer of that fat preacher asking him how he’s doing (terrible) and if he’s turned from his ways (never). But he wasn’t going to stay here and listen to it today; he had better things to do.
“You don’t gotta believe in God, ya know, but something believes in you.” Chance muttered. He was Jimmy’s age, toothpick rolling around his mouth with his accent, Bible in his lap.
Something about his tone gave Jimmy goosebumps. “What’cha mean?”
Chance shrugged. “God ain’t the only thing out there. If you don’t got Him, Something‘s gonna get you.”
Jimmy shook his head with disbelief at this. “You guys believe some crazy—” He cut his eyes to his Aunt in blue. He chuckled to himself as they turned in their Bibles obediently. Jimmy slipped out the door, totally apathetic to disturbing anyone.
Jimmy found the path through woods that led to the river almost immediately once he got off the main road. “These country people have got no dang sense! Wasting a perfectly good Sunday sitting inside a stuffy church singing the same old lame songs and listening to that dumb preacher talk trash!” Jimmy spat as he kicked up dust on the trail. Finally, the steel reflection of river water came into view and he almost broke into a dead run but for the sound of a broken twig bringing him up short.
“Who’s there?” Jimmy called out suspiciously. His hand went to his back pocket where his switchblade always sat like a loyal dog ready to come to his defense, but it wasn’t there. He cursed his Aunt, who must’ve taken it out to wash his jeans and never returned it.
Nothing came out from behind the trees and he was about to think he’d imagined the noise when, shrugging, he turned back toward the water and almost jumped out of his skin.
A woman, taller than any he’d ever seen, stood there between him and the river, raven hair curled into ringlets cascading down her shoulders. Her eyes were downcast as she inspected a dandelion between her thin fingers.
Heart thumping wildly at the sudden sight of her, he thought of his Aunt Loretta for some strange reason. His instinct told him that he wished she were here and he blushed at the thought of anyone discovering he was scared to be around a woman. He coughed in an attempt to calm his racing heartbeat, and just then the strange woman looked up from her preoccupation. It didn’t help. Her eyes were sin black, darker than her hair which at least reflected bits of golden sunlight. Even worse, she had no whites and the darkness spreading out to the corners seemed to absorb any light that hit them. Jimmy shuddered, instinct telling him to run came over him, but he couldn’t make himself lift his feet off the ground.
“James!” A clear voice rang out through the forest. Jimmy turned his head in relief to see who had come to his rescue while also wondering who knew his real name.
“James!” It rang again, then silence. Troubled, Jimmy searched the brush, but no one emerged. He gulped, terrified to turn back to the woman, but when he did, she wasn’t there. So he ran.
Aunt Loretta had left out some cold cuts and butterbeans for him, but she was on the porch listening to Old Rob exchanging stories with some of the neighborhood kids.
“The witch of Yazoo?” Old Rob questioned a youngster, “‘Course I know it! My own pa was there when she lived, seducin’ young fishermen down by the river with false raven hair. She would drown ’em and cut ’em, ’til a boy saw her doing spells over the bodies and talkin’ to the devil!” Everyone gasped.
“The men of the city ran her out of town where she sank in quicksand, but not before she cursed them and vowed to return and burn it to the ground, which she did, twenty years later.”
It couldn’t be a coincidence, the woman Jimmy saw by the river. He shook his head. He didn’t want to hear anymore, so he went back in, walking past the cold cuts and to his bedroom where he spent the better part of the following week in great thought.
The church door creaked open as Jimmy tip-toed inside. His Aunt Loretta barely turned her head, and he nodded respectfully. Chance was with all the same kids as before, toothpick in his mouth, Bible open across his lap. Jimmy met his eyes and Chance shuffled the kids aside to make room so that Jimmy nestled in the space beside him.
“Thanks,” said Jimmy, embarrassed. Chance grunted and Jimmy smiled.
Together, they chanted with the congregation, “I believe in God the Father almighty, creator of heaven and earth. And in Jesus Christ…”