THE OTHER SIDE OF THE WELL

Chapter 9 – page 1

A misty goldish-green fog was laying over the water, but through this mist, it was easy to see the round balls of light shining underneath. Maybe these were the Marshmallows, thought Granma. Blue cattails were sticking up everywhere. Some were broken open with pink and white fluff oozing out of them and floating in the air. "Wonder what kind of creatures live there," shivered J to G. It was still about a mile off before they got down to the water’s edge. "Well, we better be going and find out," said G.

Going down the rocky crags was a little slippery and scarry, rocks flying as the horses picked their way slowly. Then they reached flat land and the stone bridge. Black water lapped at the shores of lichen, weeds and shells. Some flowers that looked like birds of paradise grew in the water's edge. As they got nearer, frogs began jumping in. That was a good sign; there was life in the marsh. (If only they knew) Muff just went on out into the water and started lapping. She didn’t keel over so they saw that the water didn’t seem to be poison.

The closer G & J got to the water, the bigger & brighter the round balls of light became. They were of all sizes; small ones, medium ones, large and very large ones. They sorta looked like pearls underwater, or maybe … marshmallows … but with an inner light of their own. The place was kinda eerie. "I wonder how far down they are," said Julio out loud to himself. "I wonder if I can reach down and get one."

G was thinking the same thing. A light like that might come in handy. "Ahoy there!" came a cry across the water. A skinny little bark canoe was being shoved off the far bank by a someone or a something that spoke English. Neither G nor J wanted to dismount. The Chips all crawled back into their baskets. It was only about two thirty and the sun was out bright and warm.

There was absolutely no sound of the canoe upon the water; it glided like it was skimming over glass. There was no sound of the oar that "it" paddled with. Indeedy, there was no sound of birds or anything. The air hung, if you know what I mean. Take the air and hang it out on a line and that’s the way it was. Where was that tropical breeze when you needed it?

Two big bulging eyes peeped through the hair as it pulled up to the shore, got out of the canoe, and waded in the water to the shore. Once on shore, they saw that it had webbed feet, like a frog. Why’s it’s skin was even the color of a frog, greenish-brown-gray.