“Mommy! Mommy!” Victoria shrieked. “That boy won’t give me the ball!” She had her eight-year-old hands on a ball that a four-year-old was playing with, trying to take it from him. She wanted it, but he wouldn’t give it to her.

In the kiddie pool, all toys were fair game unless someone else currently had it in his or her possession. Victoria didn’t care for the rules. She wanted what she wanted, and she intended to screech at the top of her lungs until she got it.

“Victoria, you’ll have to wait your turn. That little boy doesn’t want to share with you right now. Play with something else,” her mother said, looking up from her Woman’s Day magazine, her voice calm, but loud enough to be heard above the din of children shouting and splashing in the pool.

The Lakeside Swim and Racquet Club had opened for the season just a few weeks earlier. It was barely June, and the water was still cold, but the sun had shone on the shallow kiddie pool long enough to warm it up a little.

“But Mommy! I WANT it,” Victoria screamed.

Other mothers looked around, rolled their eyes and sighed loudly in exasperation.

“I wish that woman would take her brat home,” whispered Mrs. Johnson to Mrs. Spencer and Mrs. Jennings, who sat on either side of her.

“She grabs the ball from that kid one more time I hope he screams bloody murder…” said Mrs. Spencer

“I hope his mother screams bloody murder,” said Mrs. Jennings.

“She’s too old to be in the kiddie pool anyway. Someone needs to talk to the manager about keeping her out of it,” said Mrs. Johnson.

“Someone already has, but her mother threw such a fit about how rough the older kids are in the big pool, and the manager just backed down!” said Mrs. Jennings.

All three ladies shook their heads.

The little boy stood up in the water, got a good grip on the ball, and jerked it from Victoria’s grasp. Victoria screamed as if someone had just slapped her. “MOMMY!”

“Victoria, be quiet,” was all her mother said.

“Just let it be my kid next time,” said Mrs. Spencer. “I’ll give the woman a piece of my mind. And the kid, too.”

Mrs. Jennings and Mrs. Johnson nodded.

Woods bordered the Lakeside Club on three sides. On the open side, a creek separated the club from the parking lot. Mimosa and Willow Trees decorated the banks of the creek and kept the water shaded most of the day making it look black. Usually the water ran at a trickle, but there had been a thunderstorm the night before, and a lot of water filled the creek today. Children were tempted to play in it, but it was forbidden by club management.

After only a few minutes of peace in the kiddie pool, during which Victoria sat on the side of the pool sulking, a shrill cry broke the silence. All of the mothers looked up at once. Only one jumped up from her chair: the mother of the four-year-old. She hopped into the pool and grabbed her son. Victoria jumped up and ran to her mother.

“What happened, Jeremy?” his mother, Mrs. Davis, asked.

He sniffled and wiped away his tears. With a shaky voice he said, “She kicked me.”

“Who kicked you, sweetheart?” she asked, though she already knew.

“That mean girl,” he said.

Mrs. Davis looked in Victoria’s direction. She sat at the table next to her mother who had not looked up from her magazine even once.

Mrs. Davis picked up her son and stomped across the concrete to Victoria. “You owe my son an apology.”

Trying to look innocent, Victoria blinked and did her best to appear confused. Her mother looked up from the Woman’s Day and said, “What’s going on?”

Mrs. Davis explained what had happened.

“I DID NOT!” shrieked Victoria. “I didn’t kick ANYBODY!”

“Victoria,” said her mother. “Are you sure? I think you might be telling a fib. Why don’t you apologize to the little boy?”

“I’m not telling a fib. He tried to BITE me!”

Her voice was so loud and shrill that people sitting around all of the pools looked over. The people nearest the kiddie pool turned up their radios.

Mrs. Davis shook her head and spoke to Victoria’s mother. “Jeremy did not bite her. You must be completely blind if you can’t see what a brat your kid is.”

Snickers came from the other mothers around the pool.

“Well!” said Victoria’s mother. “You’ve got a lot of nerve!”

“It’s you that has a lot of nerve! Bringing a kid her age in here? She’s about eight. right? Or is she just an overgrown kindergartener?” Mrs. Davis’ face was red, and anger made her hands shake.

Victoria jumped out of her chair and stood between her mother and Mrs. Davis. “I’m not in kindergarten, lady! That bad little boy bit me, and I didn’t do anything back to him. He’s just trying to get me in trouble!” she whined.

Victoria’s mother spoke calmly, “Victoria, it’s rude to interrupt grownups.”

“I don’t care! I didn’t DO anything!” she screamed.

“I think you need to do a little more with that kid than just recite rules to her,” said Mrs. Davis as she walked back to her chair. “I think she needs a good spanking to keep that mouth of hers in control.” She put Jeremy down, then sat. Jeremy got back into the water and stayed on the opposite side of the pool from Victoria.

Someone gave Mrs. Davis a high five. Another woman said, “Somebody needed to tell her.” Then they all laughed.

Victoria’s mother grabbed Victoria by the hand. “Why don’t we just go play on the playground for a while, darling. Until these babies go home.”

“That’s right - reward her for her bad behavior!” shouted Mrs. Davis after them.

“Yeah, nothing like punishing a kid like that with a trip to the playground!” said Mrs. Spencer.

Victoria and her mother walked quickly through the gate, past the concession stand and out onto the playground. Victoria jumped into the sandbox. Her mother sat on a bench and once again opened her magazine.

The kiddie pool lay in peace. The few children there played together, pushing boats through the water and throwing balls back and forth. No one fought, and no one cried.

#

Victoria looked up from the sandbox to see what her mother was doing. Once satisfied she wouldn’t be seen, she crept out of the sandbox and walked to the edge of the creek. The water ran almost to the top of the bank. It was about a foot deep. Victoria stuck her toe in. The water was cold. She looked around her again and sat down on the moss-covered ground. She stuck both feet into the creek. The water tugged at her calves a little, but the current wasn’t very strong. Knowing she wasn’t supposed to play in the creek, she took one more look around to make sure no one saw her, then she pushed herself the rest of the way in.

The pebbles and rocks on the bottom made it hard to stand, but Victoria kept her balance and walked downstream to an area beneath a willow tree where she knew she could hide. There she played in the water, picking up stones from the bottom and examining them. Finding a few big ones, she looked up at the cars in the parking lot on the other side of her. She wondered which one might be Jeremy’s car.

Something brushed against her foot under the water, and she almost cried out, but kept it in, not wanting to be caught by a grownup. She turned around, looking at the stones in her hand. She chose the biggest one, threw it at the nearest car, but missed. She threw another one. Missed again. She had one more. This time she aimed more carefully and threw it as hard as she could. She heard the clang of the rock hitting metal and she ducked down, giggling quietly. She had hoped to break some glass, but the windows were hard to reach. A few dents were good enough. She reached around in the water with both hands, fishing for some more good-sized rocks. Something brushed against her right hand. She pulled it back, stifling a squeal of surprise.

Stupid fish, she thought. I didn’t know there were stupid fish in here. She punched her hand down, holding rocks, hoping to smash a couple of those fish.

Something behind her hissed. Like a cat. She turned and saw the water behind her bubbling, as if there were someone under there, breathing out. She felt something tickle her ankle this time. It felt like fingers. She stood up, pulled one foot out of the water. A hand grasped her other ankle. She screamed. The thing jerked her leg and she fell, gasping as her warm body submerged in the cold water of the creek. She screamed again. “Mommmmmyyyyy!”

Whatever had her, pulled her down the creek. Rocks and coarse sand scraped her skin and water splashed in her face making her choke. She screamed for her mother again, but her mother wasn’t coming. Did she even hear her?

#

It took Victoria’s mother a few minutes to figure out where the scream had come from, after she had scanned the entire playground and discovered, to her surprise, that Victoria was no longer on it.

“Help!” she shouted. “My little girl! Something’s happening to my little girl!” She ran from the playground, to the fence surrounding the pool, then back to the creek, where she thought Victoria’s voice had come from.

#

Victoria tried to keep screaming, but water kept covering her face and choking her. She coughed and sputtered, and thought she was crying, but wasn’t sure.

Once she stopped moving through the water, she realized she had been dragged into a long tunnel. The tunnel all the way on the other side of the pool grounds! The thing let go of her ankle, grabbed both of her hands in one of its, then clamped its other hand over her mouth. She screamed until she thought her throat would burst, but the sound went no further than the scaly hand on her mouth.

She held her eyes wide open, afraid that if she shut them, the thing would eat her. It looked like a person with a fish head. A small person, the size of a kid, maybe, but stronger than any kid she knew. Scales covered its skinny arms, torso and legs. It was black. Or dark green. She couldn’t tell. Its eyes looked like they were made of jelly. The thing opened its mouth, and the thin fish lips spread until the skin was taut. It looked like it was trying to smile. Victoria saw its teeth, sharp and white. She screamed again under the scaly hand and wiggled, trying to get away. She kicked, but the slickness of the tunnel floor made her fall hard on her bottom. She tried turning her head to see if anyone was coming to help her yet, but the fish thing held her head still.

It looked at her with one of its eyes. It moved its head closer. She tried to move back, but she was already up against the wall of the tunnel. She could move nowhere.

The thing seemed to be smelling her. Probably trying to figure out if I’ll taste good, she thought. This made her even more afraid, and she tried harder to wiggle away. She didn’t want to be food for a fish. She wanted to be back up on the playground, playing in the sandbox or swinging on the swing.

The thing leaned even closer to her. Victoria thought she was going to throw up. Then it spit something into her face. It felt like slime and smelled like spoiled tuna salad. She shut her eyes and felt the stuff dribble down across her eyelids, over her nose. The thing bent down and spit on her again, this time on her shoulders, her arms and the parts of her legs that stuck out of the water.

She heard a voice come from the creek bank. “Victoria!” someone called. It wasn’t her mother. It was a man.

She wanted to scream and tell them she was here, but her mouth was still covered. When the thing that held her heard the voice, too, it let her go. It sunk under the water.

Victoria screamed. “I’m in here! Help!” She tried to stand up, but the slippery tunnel floor only made her fall. She crawled, instead, as fast as she could, toward the open end of the tunnel, screaming and choking on the slimy stuff and her own snot.

When she came out of the tunnel, two men stood in the water, ready to pull her out. They grabbed her arms and lifted her, and put her on the bank beside the water. Her mother ran over.

“Victoria! What happened to you? Why did you go in the creek? You scared me to death!”

Victoria cried too hard to speak. She wanted to be as far away from the water as possible, in case the thing changed its mind and decided it wanted to eat her and all the grown ups.

“Here, let me help you,” her mother said. She took her hand and helped her stand. “We need to get you cleaned up. You’re all covered in algae.”

One of the men, the pool manager, followed them. “Take her over to the showers. You need a towel?”

Victoria’s mother said no, they didn’t need a towel.

Victoria shook all over as her mother aimed the shower head and rinsed away the slime from her face, arms and legs. The cold water chilled her, but it felt good at the same time because the green stuff had started to sting, as if it was eating through her skin. When she was cleaned up her mother led her to the car and took her home.

For weeks Victoria did not want to go to the pool. She spent her weekends playing in the back yard or playing with dolls in her room. She had not said a word to her parents about the thing in the creek, sure they wouldn’t believe her, or worse, that telling would make the thing come back for her and finish her off.

One afternoon, as she played in her room, she noticed a strange spot on her arm. She peered at her skin as she lay across her bed. She used one fingernail to scratch at the spot. Translucent green flakes popped off. Victoria sat up, examined her other arm, and her legs. More spots. One on her knee, several on one hand. She jumped up to look in the mirror. She gasped when she saw her reflection. Blackish-green scaly patches covered her forehead.

She threw herself on her bed and cried. The slime that thing had spit on her was turning her into a monster, too! Suddenly she understood. Maybe she had been acting like a monster. Maybe that was why it had picked on her. She thought about the way she had behaved at the pool that day. She hadn’t been very nice. She had kicked that little boy, and then she had lied about it.

Later that afternoon, wearing a long sleeved shirt, a floppy hat to cover her face so her mother wouldn’t notice the spots there, and Band-Aids on her knees, Victoria asked her mother if they could go to the pool. She knew it was the only way to stop what had started. She needed to apologize.

“What’s with the getup?” her mother asked.

“I don’t want to get a sunburn,” Victoria said. The spot on her legs itched intensely. She resisted scratching.

When they pulled into the parking lot of the Lakeside Club, Victoria’s palms began to sweat, and butterflies filled up her stomach. She eyed the creek, looking for any sign of the monster. She saw nothing and scrambled across the wooden bridge to the pool entrance. She rushed to the kiddie pool first, but she didn’t want to swim there. She had decided to borrow a life vest from the pool office and swim in the big pool for a change. But before she did, she wanted to find Jeremy.

She saw him floating in the pool with an orange float ring around his middle. She knelt at the edge of the pool.

“Jeremy! Come here,” she demanded.

The spots on her forehead itched, and those on her arms burned.

She tried a softer tone. “Hey, Jeremy. Can you come here a sec?” The itching and burning subsided.

Jeremy floated over to her. He looked up at her.

“I wanted to tell you I’m sorry for kicking you that day,” she said.

Jeremy just nodded, seeming not to remember the incident. He floated back out into the pool as Victoria trotted off.

On her way to the big pool, she nearly ran into one of the lifeguards.

“No running, kid,” he said.

She stepped back, startled. She nodded. “Okay. I mean, yes sir. No running.”

After swimming in the big pool for a while, Victoria got out to rest. She checked beneath the Band-Aids on her knees and rubbed the spots on her face. She felt nothing unusual. She went to the bathroom to check herself in the mirror. No spots! They were gone! It had worked! She threw off the hat and peeled off the wet shirt.

She walked back to the table where her mother sat and politely asked if they could go home.

The End

Elizabeth Blue is a writer from Virginia and a member of the Mid-Atlantic Horror Professionals. Her first novel, Drown in Fear, was released in May 2004. Her stories have appeared, or are scheduled to appear, in such venues as Stillwaters Journal, The Dark Krypt, Horrorfind.com, Nocturnal Ooze, Dark Discoveries Magazine and CyberPulp Magazine as well as several anthologies. A chapbook of three stories is scheduled for release in January from Naked Snake Press, and she is currently working on her third novel.

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