Jewelweed by David Rhodes Read Free Book Online

in his chair in the gazebo and an unusually large flock of geese circled the pond and landed. The noise was deafening in a good way. Kevin stood up and gripped the railing.
    â€œWe should throw out pieces of bread,” he said to the nurse. “Go get some.”
    â€œI’ll be right back,” she said, putting her book aside and slipping her shoes on.
    After checking the tubing and settling Kevin back into his chair, she walked down the dock, up onto the deck, and into the house.
    Kevin watched the geese. They covered nearly all of the surface. Then they rose at once in a cacophony of beating wings and loud fearful cries. Kevin sat forward. Within seconds, they were flapping over the top of the windbreak—all but one, who appeared to be having some trouble taking off from the surface of the pond. The lone goose slapped its wings against the water, lurched upward, and continued to bleat as it sank deeper into the pond. Finally, only its neck and head remained, and then these also disappeared and quiet ripples radiated from the place it had gone under.
    The pond became absolutely silent.
    When the nurse returned Kevin said he wanted to go back inside the house.
    â€œWhere’d all the birds go?” asked the nurse.
    â€œI told you I want to be back inside.”
    â€œWe have to wait for your mother to come back from town.”
    â€œI don’t want to wait.”
    â€œI’ll go in and get your grandfather. He can help.”
    â€œHurry, I don’t want to be out here any longer.”
    The nurse went back inside. Kevin listened to the deafening silence of the pond and felt alone. He stood up and walked out onto the dock. Staring into the blue-green water, he thought he saw something. The color of the water seemed to coalesce beneath the surface, drawing together, taking on form.
    It seemed as if the old nurse was taking forever to come back, and Kevin grew increasingly anxious. As his anxiety grew, his breathing became more labored. His chest hurt and he stared into the water again.
    The greenish-blue form had turned more yellow since he last looked, and it had a definite shape now. It looked like a boulder three or four feet in diameter, lying at the bottom.
    Then it slowly rose and a dark bony shell broke through the surface, wet and slick. Finally the turtle’s knurled head and neck emerged. Its bright reptilian eyes contemplated him, and Kevin could not at first understand—beyond the sickly horror he was experiencing—what manner of stare it was. The neck swelled out from beneath the shell, serpent-like. The head drew closer and the mouth opened, revealing the full width of its bite. Kevin felt the animal’s dark intelligence, as if all its ten million ancestors were scoffing at Kevin, laughing at evolution’s latest doomed experiment. Long after Kevin had taken his last labored breath, the turtle would still be here, living beneath the surface.
    Satisfied with its communication, the giant turtle then closed its mouth, drew its neck in, and slowly sank until it disappeared completely.
    From then on, Kevin refused to have anything to do with the pond.
    â€œIt’s the turtle, Buck,” said Amy. “You’ve got to get that thing out of there.”
    â€œHow am I supposed to do that?”
    â€œWally said he saw it once. He poked it with a stick and it bit off a piece of the wood.”
    â€œSeeing it and getting rid of it are two different things.”
    When the DNR agent finally arrived later that morning, they stood together on the dock and Buck explained what he intended to do.
    â€œOh no, you can’t drain the pond, Mr. Roebuck.”
    â€œI have all the pumps I need.”
    â€œI’m sorry, Mr. Roebuck. We can’t let you drain the pond.”
    â€œI want that turtle out of there.”
    â€œWe talked about this turtle, Mr. Roebuck. I discussed it with our fish and game people and none of them think there’s a snapper