Rating: TEEN or YTEEN (about like the show)
Forum: CC, Dreamer
Pairings: M/L
Author: Island Breeze
Roswell is the creation of Melinda Metz, who wrote the books, and Jason Katims, who brought us the TV series. They are responsible for the show’s concept and characters and for any events that occurred during the TV series that might be mentioned here.
The song “Swamp Witch” is by Jim Stafford.
This is a Halloween special, and it’s, um, well, uh, hmmm… Just read it. I think you’ll like it.
I originally posted this story for Halloween about 4 years ago, then expanded and completely rewrote it a couple of years ago. I think it's time to edit it and repost it again. Fewer changes this time, but I hope you enjoy it.
Swamp Witch
October 31st. Journal entry nineteen.
I'm Liz Parker and four days ago my life changed… again. It started out pretty much like any other day, for me anyway. I can’t say that things were normal in town, with the fever and mosquitoes everywhere… but for the last… how long has it been… fifty years? I’ve kept to myself and had nothing to do with others, since Mom and Dad passed away.
When I remember the past, it sometimes seems like a strange dream… It was so long ago now. Was Max really from out there somewhere and did he go back to rule his planet? Did Max even ever really exist, or did I just dream him? I had friends back then. I still remember them… Maria, Kyle… Oh, and Alex!
On my last birthday, I was 102, pretty good for someone who still lives alone and takes care of herself with no help. I guess when Max healed me, he changed a lot of things in me. I don’t feel like I’m a hundred and two. But time has not stopped. My friends are gone. Max is gone.
After Dad passed away, I just never seemed to fit in anymore… with people, I mean. They were afraid of me. I didn’t want them to be, but my powers grew, and it wasn’t possible to hide them anymore. People in Roswell began to get suspicious, and the FBI reopened its alien task force, which had been closed down for many years. So I did what I had to do… I ran.
I figured that if there was one place in the world where a person could get lost and never be found it was in a Louisiana bayou, so I slipped out of Roswell one night and simply disappeared, leaving a cryptic message for the FBI to find suggesting that I had gone to be with Max. And I came here… to the Black Bayou. All I wanted was to live in peace with my memories. Max still lives in my memories. Sometimes he’s so real, I can actually touch him.
For the most part, I’ve managed to stay out of sight all these years deep back here in the bayou, but from time to time, gator hunters or others stumble onto my shack. They know I’m here. I had to use my powers once to save a boy from a gator. The men with him couldn't save him. They tried, but the gator pulled the boy into the water and would have dragged him under. I don’t keep a gun -- not that I would ever need one. I used a couple of quick energy surges to get the gator to release the boy, and then I disappeared into the swamp, hoping that I hadn't been seen. But the boy did see me. He was barely sixteen. I couldn’t just let him die… not that way. After that, word got around that I was something more than just a crazy old reclusive lady who liked living with gators and snakes.
Nobody knows who I really am, though. They call me the swamp witch… “Black Water Hattie.” And that’s just how I like it. Government agents don't pay much attention to rumors of swamp witches in Louisiana bayous. And very few locals dare to come way out here, deep back in the Black Bayou with the gators and the snakes… and me, of course. They're afraid of me, "Black Water Hattie," too. So I’ve never really been bothered by anyone.
Black Water Hattie lived back in the swamp
Where the strange green reptiles crawl
Snakes hang thick from the cypress trees
Like sausage on a smokehouse wall
Where the swamp is alive with a thousand eyes
And all of them watchin' you
Stay off the track to Hattie's shack in the back of the Black Bayou
The bayou was the perfect place to disappear, but swamps and bayous can be dangerous, too, and not just for the gators and snakes. A few weeks ago, it started to rain, and it just didn’t stop. The rain brought lots of mosquitoes, and people started to get sick. They called it “the fever.” Nobody really knew what it was or what to do about it. They only had one old doctor, and he died. Eau-sul-bayou is not really the most advanced little backwoods town. The people are very superstitious. They blamed the swamp witch, Black Water Hattie, for the fever.Where the strange green reptiles crawl
Snakes hang thick from the cypress trees
Like sausage on a smokehouse wall
Where the swamp is alive with a thousand eyes
And all of them watchin' you
Stay off the track to Hattie's shack in the back of the Black Bayou
Fortunately for me, it really is scary back here in the bayou. The wild animal howls and cackling of ravens in the daytime and the eerie hooting of owls at night, plus the ever-present gators and snakes… and the people's fear of me, too, of course, Black Water Hattie, kept anyone from coming in looking for me right away.
Way up the road from Hattie's shack
Lies a sleepy, little Okeechobee town
Talk of swamp witch Hattie lock you in when the sun go down
Rumors of what she'd done, rumors of what she'd do
Kept folks off the track of Hattie's shack
In the back of the Black Bayou
One day brought the rain and the rain stayed on
And the swamp water overflowed
Skeeters and the fever grabbed the town like a fist
Doctor Jackson was the first to go
Some said the plague was brought by Hattie
There was talk of a hangin,' too
But the talk got shackled by the howls and the cackles
From the bowels of the Black Bayou
Last night, though, six men set out, hoping to find my shack… and me… while I was asleep. They were armed with hunting rifles and deadly intentions borne of desperation and superstition. But I knew they were coming. I always know these things. It was a premonition, one of the powers I've had since Max healed me… only it's more developed now than back then. I didn’t let them get far into the bayou. They probably would have been eaten by something if I had let them get too far in at night without some help from me. But I did give them something for their effort… something they’ll never forget… Lies a sleepy, little Okeechobee town
Talk of swamp witch Hattie lock you in when the sun go down
Rumors of what she'd done, rumors of what she'd do
Kept folks off the track of Hattie's shack
In the back of the Black Bayou
One day brought the rain and the rain stayed on
And the swamp water overflowed
Skeeters and the fever grabbed the town like a fist
Doctor Jackson was the first to go
Some said the plague was brought by Hattie
There was talk of a hangin,' too
But the talk got shackled by the howls and the cackles
From the bowels of the Black Bayou
As the men crept along in the moonlight, trying to find their way through the swamp, they suddenly discovered they were up to their necks in the black bayou water. When they shined their lights around for a way out they saw scores of shining, beady reflective lights, the eyes of alligators hiding just beneath the surface with only their eyes showing above the water. Several of the men were ready to go home right then, and a couple of them may have added to the pollution of the bayou waters. But at least two of them insisted on going on. None of them knew that I had caused them to lose their way and fall into the black waters… nor that I kept the gators from eating them. Nor did they ever know that I was responsible for the things that they were about to “see” next…
Almost immediately after finding their way out of the gator-infested water, the men started to hear strange sounds. It was as though all the spirits of the bayou had been awakened and were not at all happy. This caused considerable alarm, but it was nothing compared to the sheer panic that swept over them a moment later when a massive swarm of oddly aggressive bats suddenly swept down on them out of an inky black sky. Swatting wildly at the diving, shadow-like forms, the men ran… or tried to. Unfortunately for them, they quickly discovered that they could not move, because all over the ground around them, and wrapped around their feet, were literally thousands of snakes.
The panicked would-be vigilantes began jumping, desperately trying to escape the writhing venomous masses, but when they would jump out of one tangle of snakes they would find themselves in another. The snakes clung to their feet and legs, pulling them towards the black waters of the Bayou… and the waiting gators. After some time, and considerable panic and exertion on the part of my would-be pursuers, I sent the snakes back into the swamp and waited to see if the men would give up and go home. But when they hesitated I decided to give them one last… little… tiny… incentive.
Large black spiders began falling from the trees everywhere… all over them. There was no escape. Covered with spiders, the men howled and ran around in circles, swatting themselves all over. Three of them actually jumped into the black water… with the gators! In an effort to get rid of the spiders.
That seemed to do the trick.
Breathing heavily, eyes wide with fear, and desperate to lose the snakes, vampire-like bats, and ever-present spiders, the group sought refuge behind a clump of cypress trees. But they would not find a haven here either. Almost immediately, one of them noticed a smell like wet fur. Turning around slowly, he discovered a seven-foot-tall hairy creature with a wolf's face and a hungry smile… standing behind the trees with them in the shadows.
When the men finally stopped running, the two who had insisted on going on had a total revolt on their hands; but in the end, somehow, they managed to convince the others that staying together and going on was safer than splitting up. And none of them wanted to split up or be alone now.
I had begun to wonder just what it was going to take to get these guys to give up. It looked like I might have to take more drastic measures; so after several minutes, I gave it to them…
The moon began to turn blood red and melt. Not really, of course. It just appeared to, to them. This definitely got their attention. When the surface of the moon suddenly burst into flames then exploded, showering the bayou with fiery meteors, all six men ran for their lives.
To encourage them not to change their minds again I added an extra little treat…
Or would it be a trick?
Whatever… all around them, throughout the bayou, "dead" people began to rise from the earth, and out of the black waters, wherever the fiery meteors struck.
I mentally guided the six shrieking men back out of the bayou. Otherwise, in their sheer panic, they would have become lost and been eaten by the alligators, or drowned. Of course, they never knew that I helped them find their way out.
I’m almost ashamed that I enjoyed that as much as I did. I can only say that it was October 31st, Halloween, and I had not realized how much I still sometimes missed interacting with others. Any kind of interaction. But I also realized that these people were desperate. They were ignorant and superstitious, but their town was dying, and they were suffering and frightened. Something needed to be done.
November 3rd. Journal entry twenty.
Two days ago, a "miracle" happened. The town of Eau-sul-bayou, which had been caught in the throes of an outbreak of malaria, unceasing rains, and a plague of mosquitoes, had an unseen visitor, one bearing a gift.
Early one morn 'tween dark and dawn, when shadows filled the sky,
There came an unseen caller on a town where hope'd run dry
In the square there was found a big, black, round
Vat full of gurgling brew
Whispering sounds as the folk gathered round…
“It came from the Black Bayou.”
There ain't much pride when you're trapped inside
A slowly sinkin' ship
Scooped up the liquid deep and green,
And the whole town took a sip.
Fever went away, and the very next day the skies again were blue.
“Let's thank old Hattie for savin' our town
We'll fetch her from the Black Bayou.”
I knew that the townspeople wanted to thank me, but being found was the last thing I wanted, really. I know what comes of good intentions. As soon as the fear returns… as soon as anything new happens… people look for a reason for their misfortunes. And that reason always falls at my doorstep. That’s how it was in Roswell before I left. That’s how it is everywhere. It’s human nature. I’ve come to accept that. There’s nothing I can do about it, so I stopped trying long ago.There came an unseen caller on a town where hope'd run dry
In the square there was found a big, black, round
Vat full of gurgling brew
Whispering sounds as the folk gathered round…
“It came from the Black Bayou.”
There ain't much pride when you're trapped inside
A slowly sinkin' ship
Scooped up the liquid deep and green,
And the whole town took a sip.
Fever went away, and the very next day the skies again were blue.
“Let's thank old Hattie for savin' our town
We'll fetch her from the Black Bayou.”
~~~~~~~~~~<<<<<<<>>>>>>>~~~~~~~~~~
Liz put her pen down and closed the diary. She wasn’t sure what had made her pick it up and write in it again. She rarely did these days, though she had not given it up entirely. But for the last week, eight days really, something had been gnawing at her. It was an uneasy feeling. Not a “bad” uneasy feeling, more like a “curious” uneasy feeling… the feeling that something major was about to happen in her life and she didn’t know what it was. It was strong, though… strong enough that she noted the date that the feeling had started in her diary and referred to it as the day “my life changed… again.” In her heart, Liz was certain that it was a premonition… and an important one.
With a sigh, she walked out onto the porch of her little house deep in the back of the Black Bayou and looked up into the dark night sky… and felt a sort of deep pang, like a cherished memory trying to return. She watched the sky intently for several minutes; then, from the deepest part of space, something that looked like a shooting star appeared. She watched it move across the heavens, and her heart leapt, as it crossed the sky and appeared to fall into the bayou not far away…
~ Four days later ~
Trembling hands closed the diary reverently. Max looked at Liz, and she saw the hurt and regret of eighty years of separation brim up in his eyes.
“Liz… I’m so sorry. I would have returned sooner if I could have.”
Liz smiled in a way that she hadn’t been able to in almost eighty years… “I know.”
“I’ve missed you so much, Liz. I’ve wanted to come back for you every single day of my life. In the struggle to depose Kivar, we lost all our long-range ships, and Kivar had vanquished all our scientists and space engineers to other planets throughout the galaxy… those whom he didn’t kill. We had to find them again and completely reconstruct our science program. It was a long process… too long.”
Liz touched Max’s face lightly with her hand and smiled. Then she leaned forward slowly, and he did the same. Their lips touched. Max put both arms around Liz and pulled her closer, until there was no room between them at all. Then he deepened the kiss, losing himself in the moment, but Liz suddenly pushed him away…
“I’m… I’m sorry, Max. Look at me. I’m 102 years old. I look 102 years old. You look like a young man. You should be ashamed… kissing your great grandmother… like THAT!”
She smiled teasingly, but deep inside, Liz was hurting, and desperately sad. She touched Max’s face again. Somehow, she did not feel a hundred and two… not anymore. She felt young. And she knew that whatever she might look like, she could not bear to re-exile herself from the one real object of her heart’s desire. Inexorably, she leaned forward and succumbed to Max's kiss again. This time, she saw stars and galaxies flashing through her mind. It was beautiful. It filled her heart and soul with joy. But after some time, reluctantly, she broke it off again…
“I can’t resist you, Max. How can you even look at me and not be disgusted?”
Max smiled. “You don’t disgust me, Liz. You couldn’t. It’s not possible. I love you every bit as much today as I ever did… more even, if that’s possible.”
“But you still look young, Max. I’m…”
Max picked up a small mirror and handed it to Liz, and she stared into it. Her mouth opened in a silent gasp, and she touched her face. She felt no wrinkles, no imperfections of age.
“Omigod… Max?”
“We’ve been traveling backwards through time, Liz… ever since I picked you up four days ago. You’re getting younger… so am I. It’s one of the reasons I didn’t come back sooner. We had the ship ready thirty years ago, but I wanted… I needed to be able to give you… to give us… that time back… the time that was lost. We had to complete the modifications to the ship that would allow us to do that. And Michael and Isabel want Maria and Alex back, too. I kind of promised I’d find them.”
Liz looked at her face again in the mirror and smiled; then, for the first time, she succumbed to Max totally, without reservations, giving him back everything he had given her… and much, much more.
Party of ten of the town's best men headed for Hattie's shack
Said swamp witch magic was useful and good
And they're gonna bring Hattie back
Never found Hattie and they never found the shack
And never made a trip back in
There was a parchment note they found tacked to a stump
Said, 'Don't come lookin' again'
Said swamp witch magic was useful and good
And they're gonna bring Hattie back
Never found Hattie and they never found the shack
And never made a trip back in
There was a parchment note they found tacked to a stump
Said, 'Don't come lookin' again'
~ The End ~