the brook that babbled

Just outside of a large, sprawling city was a small town inhabited by three young children, Bobby, Richard and Amy. They’d grown up together, and at the age of 11 they found themselves in secondary school.

Bobby had a crush on Amy, and Richard knew it. He’d known it even before Bobby realised it himself; he’d caught him sneaking glances at her during classes: you name the subject, he was looking, always blushing and shying away when she offered to be his partner.

Bobby had never been able to gawk at Amy during swimming, simply because he’d never been there: that was the one class he always ducked out on, and Richard had noticed that ever since they’d been in primary school.

At the end of the Spring term, Richard decided to pluck up the courage to ask Bobby what was going on. Maybe his friend had some verruca problem (his Mum had warned him about them) or something more embarrassing. After waving goodbye to Amy one cool April afternoon, Richard picked his moment.

“Hey, Bobby, how comes you don’t swim? You play football, and rounders, and basketball, and… all those sports!” The more he spoke the more he realised how something bad must be going on to stop Bobby from swimming.

Bobby scuffed his new shoes on the grass, slowing his pace and letting his satchel swing and hit him in the knees. Richard knew he wouldn’t answer unless he pushed.

“Bobby?”

“What?” He was getting defensive; maybe it was worse than Richard had thought… Or maybe… It hit him.

“Bobby, you can swim, right?”

“…No.” He half-whispered. The word hung in the air for a few seconds before Bobby snapped his head up, eyes glistening with newly sprung tears. “Rich you can’t tell anyone! You have to promise you won’t! ‘Specially not…” He didn’t need to finish his sentence; it was obvious who Bobby meant.

“Mate, why didn’t you tell me!” Bobby shrugged, pointing his nose back to the ground, as Richard continued. “You know I’d teach you.”

Bobby wiped his nose on his sleeve, looking up through his shaggy brown fringe. “You serious?”

“’Course I am. Look, we have what 3 weeks off before term starts… we’ll go down to the brook.” Bobby gave him a look. “What? It’ll be deserted ‘cause everyone thinks its haunted. Perfect place to teach you the basics before we move to the pool.”

“Fi-iiine.” Said Bobby, sullenly. Secretly, though, he was bursting with excitement (and fear): he’d finally be able to swim with Amy.

*

For the first week everything went fine: the boys turned up in the morning, with Richard running Bobby through the basics: doggy paddle, back stroke, and even some front crawl. A gentle current laced through the water, which at first had terrified Bobby, but eventually with a lot of coaxing, Richard had convinced him into the water. On the last day, Bobby proudly removed his arm bands, and, with Richard’s help, managed to swim across the brook. Okay yes, that part wasn’t as wide, but still, it was an achievement.

Following that, they didn’t return to the brook until the final day of the holiday. Richard’s Dad had sprung a week-long fishing trip on him; he’d suggested Bobby ask Amy to continue the lessons but he was having none of it. “She’ll only laugh at me!” He protested.

As April slunk into May, the weather changed, too. Pouring rain gave way to a sticky, humid heat which crept over the town, and on the Sunday before school started again, Amy invited the boys out.

They met at the entrance to the woods, bathing them in a welcomed shade. As they were walking through the trees, Amy turned to them. “Hey! Seeing as we’re here, why don’t we go down to the brook? It’s so gross out here, I want to cool off!” Bobby stiffened, but oblivious Richard blurted “Yes!” before Bobby had a chance to redirect them to the ice cream truck.  

*

By the brook bank, Amy peeled off her dainty socks and shoes, dipping her feet into the refreshing water as she spoke. “Oooo isn’t this the side that’s meant to be haunted?”

“Nah, it’s over there,” Richard extended his lanky arm to point at the twisted oak tree on the other side. “That’s where they think that crazy old woman hung her kids, back when this was a village.” Coarse blue ropes dangled from one of the lower branches, swinging lightly back and forth as the wind whispered around them.

A daring flash crossed  Amy’s eyes. “I bet you can’t touch it. Go on, swim across.”  She paused, hushing her voice. “I’ll kiss whoever does it first.” She looked pointedly at Bobby as she spoke. He tried to stay composed, but Richard could see him squirming, battling with his fears.

“Okay.” Bobby’s voice wobbled as he quickly yet clumsily stripped down to his underwear. Amy giggled. Despite the warmth, he shivered as he joined Richard, who had rolled up his three quarter lengths, in the water.

“You going to be okay, mate?” Richard murmured in his ear, so Amy wouldn’t overhear. Bobby nodded curtly, wading off.

What Bobby had failed to notice was how much higher and wider the brook was: the rain-swollen water had sped up, too. For the first minute, Bobby’s head bobbed merrily above the brown stream. Then once or twice, it slipped below. Richard and Amy stopped their cheering, alarm mounting. The fourth time, it never resurfaced. Richard didn’t hesitate.

“BOBBY!” He yelled, hurling his t-shirt off and splashing in. He took two steps before he ran out of ground, and attempted another before the current threatened to take him too. He panicked, darting back to solid riverbed.  

As he did, he heard Amy scream, following her shaking fingers, pointing downstream at the lily-white, lifeless body, topped with splayed brown hair.


Another soul to haunt the children who should’ve opened their flood gates and babbled.