“Come on, let’s go to the bay and hunt shalliwogs, both moons are full.” Vern pulled on wading boots, convincing George to accompany him.
“Okay, but I don’t like shalliwogs. They taste like feathers,” George complained while slipping on his pair of boots, “besides, with both moons full, we could run into a water sprite.”
“Are you kidding me?” Vern scuffled his feet to make them more comfortable in the waders, “Do you actually know anybody who met a water sprite?”
“No.” George grumbled while looking at the moons.
“All those stories are just fairy tales our parents told us so that we don’t go out and have fun. I’m ready for some fun. It’s been a really boring summer. C’mon. Let’s go get us some shalliwogs!”
“Okay. But, I’m not eating any!”
At the water, Vern spotted a school of shalliwogs, honked up a chunk of goober, and spat at them. The shalliwogs were stunned, giving Vern enough time to scoot them into his carryall.
“I’ve stirred them up. Look! More are coming toward you! Hurry George! Spit!” George fixed his mouth to spit when a giant water sprite rose before him, waved her finger, and screamed, “NO MORE!”
Terrified, George swallowed his spit and Vern dropped his bag. The water sprite splashed a wave toward them, causing the fallen bag to rush from the shore back to the water where the captured shalliwogs swam back to safety.
The boys, still wearing their clumsy wading boots, stumbled and fell repeatedly as they tried to race home while the water sprite spewed water and laughed as loud as thunder.
“That’s it,” Vern declared, “shalliwogs aren’t worth the trouble. I’m swearing them off for good!”
“Yeah,” George muttered, “maybe next time you’ve got a stupid idea, you’ll listen to me… and don’t start talkin’ about hunting lashbirds during the next half moon ‘cuz there’s no way I’m gonna go up against an Embertalon!”
Vern’s eyes lit up at the thought of catching a lashbird and smiled a crooked grin toward George. “Night George, I’ll see ya tomorrow!”
Lashbirds and the Embertalon would meet Vern in his fantastic dreams that night, ensuring that he would never hunt them or shalliwogs again.
Sue Marie St. Lee is a retired Finance Manager realizing her life-long dream of writing professionally. She has been featured in international horror anthologies, Spillwords Press and the Paper Djinn. In the year of the plague, 2020, she is transitioning from the horror genre to Fantasy, Inspirational fiction, and Faith-based fiction while continuing to work on writing the memoir of her late son.