Feeding the Myth

Feeding the Myth

by Michael Shimek

The road was a mass of vibrant vegetation. The cracked and worn-out pavement weaved up and down through the forest. Patches here and there revealed rolling, green mountains stretching along the horizon, a blue sky melding from above. The day was nice and warm, with only a little humidity hanging in the air. With the windows down, the moving car offered a nice breeze.

"I don't think it's much farther," Carl said. "My phone says it should be around a few more curves."

"I'm surprised you get reception out here; my phone is completely lost." Ollie had checked his cellphone moments ago and there was no signal. "You sure we're in the right place?"

"Yeah," Sasha shot from the back. "I don't want to get lost in the backwoods of hillbilly country. It's scary out here in the middle of nowhere."

"Oh, please," Ollie said. "I haven't seen a single person representing that stupid stereotype. I bet we have more rednecks and hicks back up north than they do around here." Hailing from Minnesota, they knew all too well about hillbilly rednecks. "There is nothing to be scared of," he added.

Sasha didn't like being wrong. "Well, we haven't seen everyone, now, have we? I bet the people that run this slide are fat, wearing overalls, and missing plenty of teeth."

In a way, Ollie and Sasha were both right. They didn't need to worry about the people, but the Appalachians offered many mysteries to terrify and cause concern.

The road opened into a small clearing, and Ollie pulled his aging Mazda into the eight-spot parking lot. A small shed stood at the end of two cement chute tracks that raced through the woods; the name of the attraction was painted on one of the building's sides: The Whirling Whimpus. A cut down area running up one side of the mountain brought passengers of the ride to the top on a chairlift. There wasn't anything else. He parked next to the only other vehicle, a brand new Ford pickup. Piling out of the car, the three stretched and yawned after traveling in the car for hours without stopping. Their goal for the day was Charlotte, North Carolina, where Carl had some relatives they were going to stay with for a few days in the middle of their three-week road trip. Signs for a nearby alpine slide perked their attention. It presented some entertainment in the otherwise mundane drive; the mountains were beautiful, but holed up in a stuffy car lost its vigor after a while.

"This looks fun," Carl said. "I hope it's cheap."

"Only five bucks for three rides." The voice startled the three, and they all jumped in place. A man had exited the shed without them noticing. He stood thin, tall, and proud, and he was dressed in a suit and tie, a large grin on his clean-shaven face. "Didn't mean to scare you, just saw that I had some visitors. Interested in a couple rides down the Whirling Whimpus?"

"Yeah, it looks like fun." Ollie was already fishing some money from his pockets. Heck, for five dollars the ride might take up their whole afternoon.

"Hold on," Sasha said. "Is it safe?"

"Of course it's safe," said the man. He showed them how to operate the wheeled cart and laid down a few, easy rules. "So, you guys want to have a go?"

"Yes," they all said in unison.

After attaching three orange carts, he started up the chairlift and smiled as they ascended. "Watch out for the Whirling Whimpus—they get hungry around this time of day."

"What's that?" Ollie asked, but their chair was already too far for them to hear the man's answer.

"Sounds like a nerdy rodent," Sasha said.

They burst into laughter and waited as the ride rose between the trees. Parts of the track were visible through the dense forest, but it was hard to see the true path. A slight humming vibrated from within the woods, drowning out their conversation about how many times they were going to go down the slide.

"Sounds like a bunch of bees," Carl said. "I bet there's a nest nearby.

"Ugh," Sasha piped up. "I am not going down this slide if I'm going to run into a nest of bees."

Ollie was tired of Carl's love interest always complaining—he only put up with her for his best friend's sake. "Sasha, it's probably just a swarm of insects flying by. Why don't you relax and have a little fun."

She gave him the stink eye and shut up. With an awkward silence among the group, the only sound in the wooded mountains was the droning that slowly faded as they climbed higher and higher. When they approached the top, their chair stopped perfectly square on the platform.

"I wonder how he knew to stop it on the spot," Carl said.

Ollie pointed to a camera mounted on a pole at the beginning of the track. "He's probably watching through that." He waved, grabbed his cart, and then placed it on the right track.

"Want to race?" Carl asked, setting his cart on the left track.

"Sure," Ollie said. "First one down has to pay for the other's dinner?"

"It's on. Go on three. One-two-three!"

Carl was off before Ollie could sit down. He plopped down with a thud, pushed the lever between his legs, and scooted forward to try and gain some speed as his cart slid along the smooth, cement surface. Sasha cried and complained in her usual manner, but she was too far behind to hear.

Ollie soared through the trees. The cement dipped down and curved wickedly around the thick trunks. His momentum increased with each passing second, whipping him dangerously close to the rounded edges. The buzzing sound from before vibrated somewhere within the brush, but with his speed the noise quickly receded. He pulled up on the break lever when he almost flipped over one of the curves, slowing the cart to a more guarded pace—winning, of course, was still on his mind. With the end nearing and in sight, he pushed the cart's lever to the floor and raced to the finish line.

"I'm going to win!" a voice shouted from the left.

Ollie saw Carl soar and scream ahead of him, passing the red finish line painted across the paths and coming dangerously close to running full speed into the car tires and construction cone at the very end of the tracks. His friend stopped just in time, and just as Ollie's cart rolled over the red line.

"That was awesome!" Ollie said.

"It sure was," Carl said. "You owe me dinner tonight."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'll buy you whatever you want from the value menu from the next fast food restaurant we stop at."

A bit out of breath from the excitement, they picked up their carts and waited for Sasha to come down the mountain. When five minutes ticked by, they got a little worried.

"Where is she?" Ollie asked.

"I bet she chickened out. She's probably still waiting at the top. I bet we can see her if the operator will let us view his camera."

They approached the shed when the man walked out. "Boys!" he said. "How was it? Fun, right?"

"It was," Ollie said, "but we think our friend might have come down with some nerves. Is that camera up top working?"

"Always. It's how I know when to stop the lift. Care to see if she's still up there?"

"Please," Carl said.

He opened the door and let them into the small building. There was a couch, a small TV, a desk, and some magazines. The TV showed a black and white video of the topside of the ride, but there was no Sasha.

"Looks like she's not up there, guys. There's a chance her sled got stuck…or perhaps she fell victim to the Whirling Whimpus." He added the last outlook with a smirk and raised eyebrow.

"What exactly is that?" Ollie asked.

"Well, why don't you two go for another ride, and maybe you'll find out."

The friends gave each other a suspicious look but agreed.

Once out of the shed, Ollie said, "He's only trying to scare us, and Sasha most likely got stuck on the track somewhere."

"Yeah, and she's probably screaming her head off while getting eaten by bugs."

They boarded the lift with their carts and let the chair bring them up the mountain once again. They listened for Sasha, but they could only hear the sounds of nature. Halfway up, the buzzing noise returned, and slightly louder this time.

"What is that?" Carl asked.

"I have no idea," Ollie said, chills running down his spine as he thought about the man's warning.

When they arrived at the top, both of them placed their carts on the left path. She had positioned her cart behind Carl's cart on their first run down, so they assumed that would be the track she eventually went down.

"Go slow," Carl said. "I'll be right behind you. She might have fallen off the track, so keep a lookout for her."

Ollie nodded and set off. The cart wheeled down the cement. His eyes darted around the trees, but there was still no sign of Sasha. His back straightened and every hair stood on end when the humming filled the air. The noise got dangerously close; Ollie thought he was about to run through a wasp nest, but the cart traveled around a curve and the sound subsided. He rolled a bit farther when the humming picked back up.

And then there was a scream.

Nearing the end, his best friend shrieked gruesomely before the scream was abruptly cut off. Except for the sound of Ollie's cart wheeling down the track, the forest was silent. He crossed the finish line, picked up his cart, and nervously waited for Carl to do the same.

His friend never appeared. Instead, an empty cart gradually came to a squeaking stop at the orange construction cone. After a few seconds, a syrupy substance slipped down the track. It wasn't blood; it looked more like a glaze—unsettling nonetheless.

Ollie raced to the shed and pounded on the door.

The door opened and the man stepped out with a smile. "Whoa! Hey, now. What's all the commotion about?"

"My friends, what did you do to my friends?"

The ride operator raised an eyebrow. "Why, I have no idea what you mean. Did you not find your lady friend?"

"No! And now Carl is missing. His cart showed up empty."

"Oh, dear. It seems the Whirling Whimpus is out today. I told you three to keep a watchful eye."

"Is that some sort of nickname for a bear or something? Did you let us up there knowing full well that a bear is lurking around in these woods?"

"Young man, I assure you there are no bear in these part of the mountains. The Whirling Whimpus reigns over these parts, and other critters are wise to stay away."

Ollie's heart raced with fear and anger. He wanted to hop in his car, drive back to Minnesota, and forget the whole thing ever happened. He also wanted to slug the man who toyed with them and make him help search for his friends.

"You have one more ride. I'm sure it's just a prank your pals are playing on you, a joke for some laughs. Take your last ride; you have nothing to worry about."

Ollie settled down, rational thinking coming back. The man was probably right. Carl could be known for being the prankster every now and then. He'd probably ride down and find the two making out along the path. See if I buy Carl dinner after that, he thought.

With cart in tow, Ollie set up the mountain one last time. The buzzing swarm invaded the forest, echoing throughout the valleys. As he approached the top, he couldn't help but think that maybe it was a bad idea to go up alone and weaponless. What if there was a bear? There could even be a cougar or something; he had no idea what lurked in the Appalachian Mountains. After unloading and setting down the cart, he found a fallen stick about an arm's length and placed it on his lap; it offered weak protection, but at least it added some defense if needed.

Of course, the stick would not help. Nothing stood a chance against the mighty creature stalking the slide. As Ollie, his cart, and his pathetic excuse for a weapon approached the petrifying buzzing, one last scream erupted from the woods that day.

#

The owner of The Whirling Whimpus grinned as he watched the empty orange cart roll down the slide. He would have to hose it off; it was splattered in a sticky, brown substance—the Whirling Whimpus' leftovers from its meal. Pulling out a cellphone from his suit pocket, he punched in a number and put the device to his ear.

"Yeah, I got another one for you, Bobby. It's a Mazda, but it's a beater, so I'll give it to you for three thousand, and whatever is inside."

The voice on the other end agreed and hung up. The man put the phone back in his pocket and stepped out into the warm air. He smiled as the droning sound faded away within the tree-filled mountains. The legend and myth owned these parts, and a full creature was a happy creature.

END