1. 
	The unmistakable sound of a church bell cut through the morning fog like a needle piercing skin. Jem Mcgee fought with himself to climb from the bed. Young boys shouldn't ever have to deal with waking up early on any morning, even Sunday as far as he was concerned. But none the less he knew it was Sunday and whether he liked it or not, his mom would wake him up soon anyway. So he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and made his way down stairs where he met his mom and dad at the dinner table.

	Jem was an only child. He was rail-thin with a mop head of dark hair. His family was of modest stature; growing up in a poor region of the West Virgina hill country. They lived in the outskirts of a town that was called Belton. It was actually very unlike a town, more like a camp. The houses were decently spaced out for the most part. It wasn't uncommon to find a mile's distance on your way from place to place. Except of course in the very core of the town where you'd find the sheriff's office, the school, the doctor's office, the mayor's office and last but not least, the church. Jem's family mostly subsided on food they'd raise themsevles. Meat came from the occassional slaughtered cow, chicken or pig. Jem's dad Jack worked hard year around to maintain and care for the crops and farm animals. This made him a rough looking fellow who would often go long periods of time without shaving or taking a bath. Jem's mother Kathy on the otherhand was a polite and decent woman who worked hard on the farm and with household chores. She had sandy brown hair that she kept tied in a pony tail. Her hands were heavily worn from manual labor. Aside from all that she made sure that her family was in Church every Sunday morning. 

	Jem took a seat beside his dad at the table and was greeted bluntly, "How'd ya sleep boy?" his father said. "Ah, all right I guess. That crazy rooster didn't help things any. Crowing at all hours of the night. What the hell's wrong with that thang anyways?". Jack looked over at Jem with dull eyes still half-asleep. "Hell, I don't know. But when his head's on the chop block he'll shut the hell up I reckon." Jem's mother walked in the room with a pan of fried eggs and some fried pork. She looked at Jem agitated, "What did I tell you about talkin' like that boy? Your tongue's gonna curl up and fall out if you keep talkin' like that." Jack had his eyes fixed on Jem as if he was reinforcing his wife's opinion. Then a puzzled look came over his face as she turns from Jem and begins yelling at him. "And you! You're a bad influence on this boy. I tell ya what! You could do better." "Me?" said Jack. "I put the food on this table and clothing on y'alls backs. Besides, you're supposed to be the mother, in charge of the upbringing of a young boy."Kathy's eyes glowed with a firery raged until she realized it was Sunday morning again. "That's about enough. We'll talk about this later." she said. "This is God's day. Now eatcha food and get ready for Church. Reverend Hogston will be very upset indeed if this family's late one more time."

	The three of them began to gobble down their food. Then Jem looked up from his plate and looked towards his father. "Would it be all right if I went fishin' over at mud creek after church Pap?" Mud creek was what they called it because often times after some rain the local streams turned a light brown copperish color. Jack continued chewing his food with little interest in Jem's request. Then at last he spoke with a mouth full of food and some crumbs on his chin, "Yeah, I reckon that will be all right. You just catch us a big one and bring it home." Jack always liked the idea of extra food. Jem nodded with newfound inspiration, "Oh, Yes sir. I will." Kathy looked towards the clock, "Well, we'd better be getting ready." she said.

	Jem walked back upstairs where he put on his finest Sunday attire. A pair of brown pants with the knees patched in them along with a matching shirt that he'd received as a gift from his Aunt Paula nearly a year before. He pulled a pair of heavily-worn lowcut black shoes from his closet and tried to clean them up a bit with a rag. After making little progress with the shoes he put them on and then turned his attention to his hair. Combing it heavily to the side in jolly church goer fashion. Jem then frantically made his way downstairs where he'd meet his parents. 

	The family made their way outside and started in on the walk towards the church. It was about a mile in distance; a hefty walk. The makeshift dirt road they traveled by was in extremely poor condition due to the recent rains that had struck the area making it impossible to keep your shoes clean and maintain complete balance. The road was surrounded by large green timber thickets on both sides. 

"God damn, we're gonna walk into that church lookin' like three hogs fresh outta the pig pen." said Jack. Jim giggled at his father's remarks but Kathy wasn't amused. "A bolt of lightning's gonna shoot from the sky and strike you down for talkin' like that on god's day." she said. Jack laughed, "When it's my time to go that's that. I figure we all got a giant clock in the sky and when it's your time you can't do nothin' about it. Hell I ain't afraid of dyin'." Kathy put her arm around Jem's shoulder. "Well, at the very least you should try to be a good influence on this boy. He's the only one you'll ever have." she said. 

	They were now approaching the church which seemed to already be in service. Kathy promptly said a prayer to herself, "My Lord forgive us for being late." It was a one room white church house that appeared to be 50 years old. The paint was chipping on it and it had a large bell tower on top of it that stood out like a mole on a school teacher's face. They trio entered the church house. 

	When they entered the good Reverend Hogston was leading everyone in a group prayer. The nobel revern was a tremendous gentleman, both in religious prestige and by means of the sheer girth of his bodyweight. His true weight was unknown, but some guessed it to be nothing short of half a metric ton. He often preached in a very animated fashion, jumping vertically into the air and waving his arms numerous times during a sermon. "PRAISE JESUS! HALLELUJAH!" he'd scream while catching his breath. This would of course cause the church to shake like the apocalypse had truly arrived and was known to make the occassional baby cry. The Mcgee family took a seat at the pew closest to the entrance. Drawing an eye from the Reverend as he continued the prayer. "..and Oh mighty Lord we'd like to pray for the health of the townspeople. We'd like to ask ya for the forgiveness of our sins.. and last but not least we'd like ya to forgive us for our tardiness.." The revern looked towards the Mcgee family mockingly. Then he began reading scriptures from the bible. An hour passed and he continued reading. The sun was bearing down on the tin roof of the one room church causing it to become obnoxiously hot. A few people waved hand held fans and young children became increasingly restless. Beads of sweat were running down the Reverend's face as he huffed and puffed zealously. 

	The revern spoke to the audience, "Now what do you think all this means folks? What have you learned here today?" He begins to sway his rotund hips as he continues on. "It means, give your soul to the Lord! Do not cave in to the tyrannies of evil! The blood of christ will protect us!" The Revern began to bounce in place. "Oh! I feel the holy spirit in me! Praise Jesus! Hallelujah!" The onlookers acknowledge the Reverend with a hallelujah of their own and then he contined to speak. "Now if you'd all be so kind as to turn Chapter 13, verse 6." He began to read the scripture out loud. " And he had power to give life unto the image of the beast, that the image of the beast should both speak, and cause that as many as would not worship the image of the beast should be killed. And he causeth all, both small and great, rich and poor, free and bond, to receive a mark in their right hand, or in their foreheads: And that no man might buy or sell, save he that had the mark, or the name of the beast, or the number of his name. Here is wisdom. Let him that hath understanding count the number of the beast: for it is the number of a man; and his number is Six hundred threescore and six." The reverend slammed his bible shut."I'll see ya all next Sunday."

	After church was over people gathered around outside in their social circles. Kids were running around rampantly. Jem quickly caught up with his best friend Ernest Taylor. But he was just called Ern. He was an odd looking hunch-backed young man with heavy red hair and deep red freckles on his cheeks. Jem had what you might call a pleasant admiration for Ern, mainly because of his wild tendancies to cuss like a heathern and talk about content well over his head. "Whatta ya say Jemme boy?" said Ern as he punched Jem violently in the arm. "I say you hit me like that again I'm a' gonna have to whip your ass." Ern playfully slaps Jem in the back of the head. "Aw, hell. I was just playin'. All in good fun ya see?" Jem erupts with laughter, "Yeah, in good fun." Ern and Jem walked around aimlessly near the Church chit-chatting for a little while until the crowds cleared out. Then the boys decided it was time to go fishing. 

	They made their way back down the dirt road away from the church, talking loudly and skipping along playfully. "I hope we catch somethin'. We ain't had no luck in quite a while. I told my Pa that I'd bring somethin' back." said Jem. Ern was chewing on tobacco and spitting it every which way he could."God damn, I hope so. We ain't caught nothin' 'cept tiney ass shit for months. I know they'z big fish in that creek. I was there with my grandpa a couple years back and he caught a nice 20 pounder." Jem looked at Ern in disbelief. "Bullshit. Your grandpa didn't catch any such fish in that creek. You're always makin' stuff up." Ern gave Jem a slight push as they continued walking. "Hell, I know he did. I was there. But he was fishin' in a secret spot that ya gotta wade to. Fishin' on the banks won't work for ya. Plus my grandad's a fine fisherman, the best these parts has ever seen." Jem nodded sarcatically. "Well, I just hope our poles are where we left 'em, under that rock house." Ern replied, "Don't worry about the poles Jemme, they'll be there. You oughta be worried about bait. Ya better hope we can find some red worms under some rocks somehwere."

	The boys kept their sluggish pace down the road until finally they reached a brushy path away from the road that lead down a hill. The path they took was considered a shortcut to the creek. But only people their size could actually navigate such a path. It was litered with briar bushes and heavy weeds. Tall trees stood harrasingly over every thing. An adult could never make it through there without getting eaten alive by briars. But the boys knew the trail very well. They walked for about 20 minutes through it receiving numerous scratches and bugbites along the way. Finally they could hear the roar of the creek in the distance. 
	When they reached the creek bank the two boys split up, Jem went to grab the poles and Ern frantically began flipping over rotten logs and rocks looking for some worms. Ern came back with a handful of worms, mostly red worms but a couple white grub worms and even a couple crickets. Jem arrived just shortly after Ern with two long cane poles in his hands. "Looky here what I found Jemme, looks so good I could eat it." Ern said as he extended his hand and revealed the bait to Jem. "Why don't ya then?" Jem replied. "Heck I would if I was hungry, believe it. But I ain't. Besides I've eaten worms before. It ain't no big thing." said Ern. Finally the two boys stopped their chatting and started fishing, each of them curled about 3 or 4 red worms on their large iron hooks and tossed their lines into the creek. The boys sat their in silence for a good while, for the most part. Aside from Ern pretending he was getting a bite every 2 minutes, cursing at random when he jerked only to find nothing but his bait on the end of his hook. Jem was more than entertained by Ern's antics, he couldn't go 2 minutes without laughing at something Ern said or did. 
	Finally after a little time passed the boys heard someone singing and walking towards the stream. The song the person was singing went like this. "Mmm I caught me a 20 pound whisker-fish. Cooked it up mighty fine into a good dish. Yesum I caught me a 20 pound whisker-fish. Ain't no bigger fish around here so don't even wish." A look of great excitement fell over Ern's face. "That's my grandpa!" he exclaimed. "Now we'll surely catch some fish." Suddenly Ern's grandpa appeared before them, he was an odd looking fellow to say the least. He looked as if he hadn't been out of the woods in a couple decades. He wore an old straw hat that appeared to be half eaten, along with some pants. No shirt, no shoes. He was as toothless as a prize fighter turned 40, with a bright white grey beard and hair. To the locals he was simply known as, "Pa Tay". 
	"Whatcha boys doin'? Tryin' to catch my fish? Looks like you're doing it all wrong." he said. "We ain't caught a fish yet and we've been here over an hour." said Ern.   Tay nodded, "Oh shit yeah, these fish is tricky. I've been fightin' with 'em for 60 years, these same fish and I'z tellin yas they tricky." Tay then pulled a fishing pole from his side and began equipping it. "I call this pole sneaka, ya see? Sneaka cause it's sneaky like a snake. Sneak right up on the fish. Now what you boys usin' for bait?" Ern pointed to the pile of worms on the ground and Tay looked at him in unsatisfied. "Naw boy, that won't do. These fish is tired of worms. You gotta give them somethin' unexpected." he said. The boys looked at Tay with wide eyes in wonder as he pulled a wasp that was buzzing around them out of the air with his hand. "MMm, yes this will do it. This will do mighty fine." he said. "Didn't it sting ya?" asked Jem. "Naw, these fellas? They won't sting me. They is a trick to it. Ya see? You can't be afraid of them, you've got to let them know who's dangerous."  As the boys looked away Tay looked down at his hand and gave a slight moan as he saw that it was swelling from the sting of a wasp. Tay put the wasp on his hook and stood arrogantly on the bank of the creek with his pole in hand. He licked his finger and held it high above his head before his cast to get a judgement on the wind. The boys looked on patiently at times exchanging small talk like they were beholding something great and beautiful. Something that could only be vocalized through whispers, like the birth of christ himself. Finally Tay gave his pole an evil whip and his hook danced around majestically in the air in a 360 degree circle, then at last he launched his hook towards the creek's rippling waters. Within 5 seconds of his hook hitting the water his pole received a mighty jerk and his line straightened. He moaned lightly as he felt the weight of the fish on his pole. "Mmm, Oh yeah. Not bad, not bad at all. You boys watching this?" Pa Tay stomped around wildly trying to retrieve his catch. "Aw yesh. You gotta wear 'em out." he said. The fight continued for at least 10 minutes as his old hands began to turn red and sweat was rolling from his head. Finally Tay muscled his catch closer to the bank, and with one more mighty tug he pulled it from the creek. His jaw dropped immediately and the boys were much of the same. It was the biggest snapping turtle any of them had ever seen. 30 pounds at the least. The turtle snapped and hissed as Pa Tay reached down to pull the hook from its jaw, it wasn't happening. "Sheesh, that thing's meaner than your dearly departed GrandMother Ernest." The boys stood there puzzled. "What are we gonna do with it Paps?" asked Ern. Pa Tay clapped his hands adimently, "ain't you boys ever heard of turtle soup?" 

	The sun had gone down and night fell over the region. Ern and Jem had gone their seperate ways about an hour before shortly after the turtle incident. Jem wasn't allowed out after dark under any circumstances, but he was carrying a burden this time. As he made his way up the mud covered dirt road he pulled behind him the spoils of his fishing expedition inside a potato sack. Yes, it was the turtle Jem was dragging behind him, after all he couldn't go back home empty handed. Jem heaved and pulled on the heavy turtle making his way around a hillside, the turtle could be heard inside the bag very much alive, still hissing very disgruntled.  Jem became more and more fatigued so he decided to take a seat in a large curve in the road that overlooked a gigantic hollow. He sat there for a moment staring down into the deep hollow which he'd heard rumors of ghosts and unnatural happenings going on down in there. To the locals it was simply know as, "The Deep Woods". Of course Jem was very much a youngster so he fell easy prey to lore and tall tails and such. As Jem was just about to stand up and continue his march home he heard something from the deepest depths of the hollow, something unlike he'd ever heard before, a loud piercing scream that could make the dead stand at attention. It wasn't a mountain lion, or a bear, nor was it a cyote, Jem had heard all of these animals many times before. He lept to his feet and sprinted wildly up the road  at a pace that he'd never cut before, with the turlte in the sack beating on the ground behind him, making his way home.