His Eyes
a supernatural flash fiction story about pieces of our identity
This is the Shrouded Grouse, and here you’ll find free supernatural short stories and novellas, essays and musings, zines, and illustrations that explore the liminal spaces and moody places.
I wrote this story to the Fictionistas’ May prompt here on Substack just for a bit of light fun. The prompt was to write a 1000-word story, featuring a character who is a trapper with spectacles (glasses), on a quest. Plus it’s Mermay, so… you’ll see.
His Eyes
Journal of Shy Leveau, 23 March, 1832
Men, even Pa, think it’s a curse to be two things at once. To have two sides of yourself.
But I think maybe it’s a blessing.
Still, I keep it secret.
+++
“That’s Hank Leveau’s place,” Jack said, interrupting the rhythm of their paddling to point to the cabin in the woods. “He don’t like trespassers, ‘specially them that’s out huntin’ on his land.”
“We ain’t on his land. We’re on the water,” said his companion. “Anyhow, out this far is where it’s been sighted, so they say.
Jack took a moment to push his spectacles up on the bridge of his nose. They kept slipping down. He had two spare pairs packed safely away in his kit, just in case. That’s the kind of man he was.
His partner, Jethro, didn’t wear spectacles.
The canoe glided noiselessly for a few moments in the early morning mist. Jack inhaled deeply. This was the part he liked best. It was almost religious for him, the tranquility, the forest holding onto its mysteries. The hunting and trapping was a necessary evil, a way to make a living, and get out in the wild. One day he’d give it up, shack up out here, maybe even take a wife–if he met the right sort of woman.
He’d mentioned these thoughts once. Jethro had laughed. “I can see it! You with all your books and maps and drawings, sittin’ round gettin’ fat and a fat wife with two screamin’ babies.”
Jack hadn’t spoken of his dreams again. Some parts of yourself were best hidden away, he supposed.
Jethro said over his shoulder, “Imagine a beaver the size of a man! Think what we’d get for a pelt like that!” His voice held the fervent devotion to the almighty coin. “And where there’s one, there’s gotta be more.”
As they neared the bend past Leveau’s cabin, where the river widened out into a small lake, both men spotted the girl on the shore. Her shadowy form stood facing the water, with a fur cloak draped around her shoulders, protection against the chill morning air.
“Must be Leveau’s daughter. Seen her a couple times at the post town. A little robust, but I like ‘em that way, with the curves. Wouldn’t mind takin’ a romp with her if ol’ Leveau wouldn’t have my head–and other parts. “ He laughed.
Jack frowned at Jethro’s back. Jack had sisters about the Leveau girl’s age.
Jethro didn’t have sisters.
“A bit further up,” Jethro said. “That’s where people seen it. Keep your eyes open.”
+++
The canoe passed by. I heard the men’s voices. I hear far, especially on hollow morning air like that. I had my pelt already round my shoulders. Don’t cause trouble, I willed them. Just pass on through.
They rounded the bend and were out of sight.
I didn’t trust them.
I eased into my second skin, feeling it form to my body. Then I slipped silently into the water.
+++
A slight swishing sound, every so often, hinted to Jack that something was behind them. But each time he turned, there was nothing but the ripples from their own paddling.
Now in the small lake, a beaver–just the regular size–popped its head up for a moment. Another quick flash. A mound of sticks and logs further up on the left.
“Eureka! Let’s stow the paddles,” Jethro said, reaching for the spear, “and drift here a while. See what shows up. If we don’t get the giant, we can at least get a good haul of regulars.” He pointed at the beaver lodge.
Jack warily noted the handmade “NO hunting NO trapping” sign standing crooked on the shore.
“Maybe let’s not–”
“There!” Before Jack knew what was happening, Jethro plunged his spear into the water.
The shriek was piercing, a sound like no animal Jack had ever heard.
The boat rocked wildly as something beneath the water thrashed, with Jethro still holding tight to the spear. And then suddenly, the man was in the water, dragged under, while Jack scrambled to keep the canoe steady.
The spear bobbed up the surface. The water was eerily still. Jack had already grabbed one paddle, thinking to hold it out for Jethro, pull him back in. “Jethro!” Jack’s voice rang out over the water.
Then, out of reach, a brown furry head broke the surface. The biggest damn beaver he’d ever seen.
+++
I looked the trapper straight in the eyes. Even behind the spectacles, I could see he was looking straight back. Searching.
“Please,” he said. “He’s my friend.”
+++
The giant beaver plunged and, without warning, something was heaved over the side, into the bottom of the canoe. Jethro. Unconscious it seemed, but alive.
A flat tail flipped out of the water–still bleeding he could see–and slapped the surface, creating waves that rocked the boat and sent him moving away. It was this last jilt that finally knocked his spectacles from his face and sent them into the water.
He quickly turned the boat back the way they’d come. He heard movement behind him in the water, as he paddled, but he didn’t look back.
Jethro moaned.
“I’m givin’ up the fur trade,” Jack said to whomever or whatever might be listening. “That’s a solemn vow.”
Rustling made him turn his head. On the shore near the Leveau place, something moved in the brush. A flash of brown fur? He stopped paddling. He squinted. Then–and no man would swear to this, least of all one who’d lost his spectacles–he was sure he saw a woman, divesting herself of a brown cloak, one leg dark with blood.
+++
I don’t think that dangerous trapper will be back after the scare I gave him, but others likely will. I’ll be vigilant and protect me and mine.
But the other one, the one with the spectacles, I know he’ll be back, for different reasons, searching. He got a glimpse of our mysteries out here–our secrets. I saw it in his eyes.
And I’ll be waiting for him.
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If you’re interested in a longer short story, you can read my previous post: Land-Daughter (a dark mermaid story)
Love it!
Fantastic story! Will be checking out others!