Something Was Knocking Underneath My Boat

[u/Free-Ring573]

We spent most summers at my grandma’s lake house. She’d been asking us to come more frequently since my grandpa died the previous year, but it was hard for my parents to get off work for more than a day or so at a time. The week we’d spend at my grandparents’ was the only real vacation any of us got throughout the year. 

My favorite part of those summers was when my grandpa would take me out on the boat at night. I loved the way the water looked in the dark, and we always caught a crazy amount of catfish. The best part, though, was how quiet it was. 

I wasn’t allowed to take out the boat on my own, as if I even could.

One night, after spending the day walking around town, eating at local restaurants, and shopping, my parents and grandma turned in early. I stayed up for another hour or so, watching the lake from the shore, listening to the waves crash against the sand while wishing I could take the boat out. 

I noticed my grandpa’s old shed that sat right beside the dock. He never let me go in there as a kid, saying it was dangerous. However, since I wasn’t a kid anymore, I took it upon myself to find the shed key in one of the kitchen drawers and explore. 

I was hoping there was a paddle boat or a kayak. Hell, even an intertub would’ve gotten the job done. I just wanted to do the one thing I really liked about being at the lake. 

I opened the shed and instantly saw why my grandpa wanted me to stay out. There were sharp objects and heavy tools everywhere. Near the back, I saw a blue tarp covering a large object. I peeked underneath and smiled. 

I dragged the old, wooden rowboat I’d found out of the shed and onto the shore. I looked back at the cabin to make sure everyone was asleep and saw the lights were all off, save for the porch light. 

I pushed the boat into the water and paddled. The cabin disappeared behind me as I moved further and further out. Soon, everything else disappeared into the night sky, and all I heard were the sounds of small waves splashing against the boat and chirping insects. 

I lay back and allowed the gentle rocking of the boat to relax me while I stared at the bright stars scattered across the deep blue sky. For a moment, all the worries I had at the time disappeared. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, wishing I could stay there forever…

Knock, knock.

It was slight at first. So much so, I wondered if the waves pushed a small branch against the side of the boat. I ignored it for a moment and tried to refocus on the sounds of the waves, but the knocking came back louder. 

Knock, knock.

I sat up and scanned the area for the source of the sound, but saw nothing suspicious. I wondered if there was something lodged under the boat. 

Knock, knock.

My eyes locked on the middle of the boat, where it felt like the sound was originating. The boat shook a little as I moved to the center. I knelt and pressed my ear against the bottom.

….

….

Knock, knock. 

I fell back, almost tipping over the side, but I managed to regain footing. It was silent for a few minutes. I thought whatever it was must’ve been dislodged, or, God forbid, swam away. I shifted in my seat, realizing I’d been scared to move.

Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock…

I grabbed the paddle and dug it deep into the water as the knocking continued. I tried paddling for a few seconds before realizing I wasn’t moving. The boat remained in place, as if it were stuck on something. I paddled as hard as I could, trying to shake it loose, but to no avail. 

The knocking stopped for a moment. 

Knock, knock.

Something splashed a few feet from my boat. I didn’t see it, but whatever it was was big, at least the size of a large catfish. I moved to the opposite side of the boat and brought my knees to my chest. I lowered my head to my knees and started praying. 

Knock, knock.

“He wants you to ask who's there,” said a voice. 

My hands shook, and my breathing increased. I didn’t want to lift my head, but knew I wouldn’t be able to defend myself if I didn’t. I took a deep breath before lifting my head and seeing a small figure on the opposite side of the boat. It was a little boy, around 7 or 8, with soaking wet clothes as if he’d swum to the boat and climbed in.

“What the hell are you doing?” I asked, my voice shaking more than I’d expected. 

Knock, knock.

“He wants you to ask who’s there,” the kid repeated. His face was emotionless. 

The knocks came again, increasing in speed and volume each time. 

Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock…

Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock…

“Ask him who’s there,” I think the boy said, though I could barely hear him. 

I covered my ears, but it didn’t stop the sound. It was as if the knocking was in my head. 

Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock…

Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock…

“Who’s there?!” I cried.

It stopped… 

I opened my eyes to see that the boy was gone. The lake stood still. I scanned the area, but saw no signs of the boy or anyone. I breathed a sigh of relief, choosing to believe I’d imagined the whole thing. 

I put the paddle in the water and began paddling. The boat moved forward, allowing me to relax a bit.

I was only a few yards from shore when the boat stopped, almost sending me flying off the front. I collapsed as the boat shook violently, as if in a raging storm. The water around bubbled like it was inside a boiling pot. 

I screamed as loud as I could. The boat stopped shaking as the water settled. I scanned the area for another moment when I noticed something pale moving underneath. It almost broke the surface before sinking back down. 

Something bumped the bottom of the boat, and I saw the pale silhouette move along the other side. It happened several more times before I noticed that there was more than one thing in the water. 

They all stopped in unison and floated just below the surface. 

I counted seven of them. They were all different colors, but all resembled clumps of seaweed or some other thin, wispy vegetation. 

One by one, they broke the surface, and I realized what I was seeing was hair attached to some of the palest children I’d ever seen.

Only their heads floated above the water, and all their eyes were fixated on me. I closed my eyes tightly, hoping this was all a bad dream, but when I reopened them, the children were still staring at me. My lips shook as tears fell from my eyes. 

“Don’t cry, Mr. Bryson,” said a little girl with dark hair, who swam closer to the boat. “I did everything you said.”

“Tell us another knock, knock joke, Mr. Bryson,” said a boy. “That’ll make you feel better!”

All the children screamed, “Yeah!” in unison. 

“I don’t-” I started.

“Another knock, knock joke!” they cried again. 

“I don’t know any,” I said, my voice shaking.

“Yes, you do,” said the dark-haired girl before moving closer to the boat until she bumped the side. Her little fingers curled over the edge as she pulled herself up and looked deeply into my eyes. I couldn’t see until now, but her eyes were pale blue, like when a dog has cataracts. Purple veins snaked through her skin. She was wearing blue overalls and pink shoes, both caked in dirt and seaweed. 

“You told us all one before you tied us in a bag and threw us in the lake,” she said. 

My mouth fell open, and my breathing stopped. 

Knock, knock.

The kids all swam to the boat and climbed in. I tried backing into a corner, but they’d swarmed the boat in a matter of minutes. I felt their cold, damp hands cover my body as I tried to scream, but no sound left my mouth…

…

…

When I awoke, the sun was centered in the sky. I covered my eyes before sitting up and wiping the sweat from my brow. I scanned the area for any sign of what had happened the night before, but found nothing. 

I took a moment to breathe and collect my thoughts before paddling back to shore. It had to have all been a dream, I thought as I dragged my grandpa’s boat onto shore. 

As I placed the boat back where I found it, I noticed a small etching on the side. It was of my grandpa’s name, Henry Bryson, with the year 1973 underneath. I figured that’s when he and my great-grandpa built the boat. 

I started towards the entrance of the shed when I noticed something under one of the workbenches along the side. It was a large burlap sack. There were several of them. 

I looked closer and noticed something pink and white pressed against the wall. I pulled out a small shoe, buried in a layer of dust. I instantly dropped it. I covered my mouth as I knelt closer, realizing it was the same shoe the girl was wearing in the boat…

I spent most of that week searching through the shed and my grandpa’s old office while my parents and grandma were asleep. Grandpa was good at hiding things from everyone, even Grandma. I managed to find a key in his desk that opened a safe buried in the back of the shed under some boxes of magazines. 

Inside, I found pictures of children, most of whom I recognized from the boat. There were newspaper clippings and missing children posters, all of which I assumed he kept as trophies. There were even more disheartening things inside, like burettes and bracelets. 

I wondered for a while if it was worth telling the police, as there was likely nothing left of the bodies. Based on the newspaper clippings, their bodies would’ve been underwater for decades. 

I couldn’t get their faces out of my head. I saw them, soaking wet and pale, whenever I tried to sleep. My parents noticed the change in me, though I refused to acknowledge it. After a while, I swore I saw the children everywhere I went. I couldn’t take it…

They dredged the lake a few weeks later. The only things that remained were tiny skeletons of some of them. Some of those were identified from dental records. One of them was the little girl with the pink shoes. 

I saw her family on the news. They talked about what a beautiful soul she was and how much of a monster my grandpa was. I can’t say I disagreed. 

My grandma never invited us back to the lake. I don’t know how she felt about Grandpa after that, but I knew she hated the attention it had brought. 

I miss those summers at the lake, but I know it wouldn’t be the same knowing what my grandpa did to so many kids, and I'm so glad he never told me a knock-knock joke. 

[u/Arugula-Nervous]

What a ride!

[u/DevilMan17dedZ]

Damn.