The Lady of Lake Lanier

The lake glistened peculiarly that day. I couldn’t explain it, but its shimmering ripples caught my eye. The ripples lapped the sides of some boats and gently rocked them side to side, all the while calling to me – beckoning me. The long walk down the dock became hypnotic. The other celebration attendees didn’t seem to notice, all consumed with filling coolers with brew and White Claws – most of them were already drunk.

“I don’t understand why you’re going to a 4th of July celebration for starters,” my best friend loudly reprimanded me through my headphones. “Secondly, on Lake Lanier? Girl, you should have your Black Card revoked!”

I held my phone to my face so that she could see me roll my eyes. “I told you, my co-worker’s boyfriend has a boat and invited me to hang out. I don’t think I’m doing my entire race an injustice by enjoying this lovely weather from the deck of a boat.”

“As long as you don’t end up chained at the bottom…” she responded snidely.

My best friend Gloria, M.A. in African American Studies, would never miss an opportunity to point out my indifference to the Black experience of those in this country – as if I didn’t live my version of it daily. She believed that every wrong with race relations for the past 400+ years needed to be made right. She assumed the task of educating those who wanted, or whom she felt needed, to know of the injustices suffered at the hands of slavery and segregation. And she believed in reparations, big time.

“I’m sure you think that your joke was clever and equally woke, but you’re being a real bitch today,” I stated matter of factly, stopping next to the boat I was to dock. “I know you’re jealous – you being hundreds of miles away, and me making new friends and all – but the last thing that I need is your negativity.”

“I’m sorry,” she responded after a pause. “I might be a little envious of your new friends, but you can’t deny the fucked up history that Lake Lanier has. And you’re floating on top of it, celebrating a day of freedom that meant nothing to our people for almost a hundred years after its conception!”

“I understand, but do you think that our people should remain banished from land that technically belongs to us? Isn’t it equally as fucked to feel as though we can’t return to enjoy it?“ I asked in a sarcastic philosophical tone.

“Susannah, AL, York Hill and Seneca Village, and the Henry & McKee Islands – what do they all have in common? Their remains exist buried underground or floating underwater. That’s not what our ancestors wanted us to return to see.”

I noticed my girls leaning over the side of the boat, waving at me. I waved back while responding, “Well, either I’m taking this land back for us on this voyage, or our ancestors are about to be real disappointed in me. But, I gotta go! I’ll call you later?”

“Be safe,” she stated flatly before hanging up on me.

* * *

I was two drinks in and starting to question if I could enjoy myself for the duration of the party. Everyone seemed nice enough when I got on the boat, but I didn’t know anyone other than Lauren and Rubi – we worked together. The rest of the guests consisted of a few of Laure’s sorority sisters, cousins, childhood friends, and her boyfriend – Bill.

Bill was a real jerk, I would’ve never guessed that he was who she spoke so highly of at work all the time. He seemed self-entitled and like a descendant of old money – and that was just within the minor interactions that we had. He also seemed to acknowledge and amplify the fact that Rubi and I were the only people of color at the party.

If it wasn’t for Rubi, I wouldn’t have been in attendance. Rubi and her wittingly dry sarcasm at the perfect time was the only thing that got me through work some days – which is why I forced her to come with me. But from the look on her face, I sensed she felt as I did.

“What are we doing here?” I groaned to Rubi.

“You wanted to ride on the boat. We’re riding on the boat,” she responded flatly.

“I know. But I didn’t think it would make me feel so weird. I think I just let my best friend get into my head.”

“I didn’t think my attire would be appropriate. I assumed boat parties were for a bunch of yacht snobs. This is a good ‘ol Confederate hoedown,” Rubi did her best to imitate a Southern twang.

“Sometimes I like it better that way,” I reasoned, watching Lauren saunter towards us with two White Claws. “Seeing who’s who kinda levels the playing field.”

“Why are y’all being so lame?” Lauren giggled, placing watermelon White Claws in one of our hands and grabbing us by the other.

The three of us walked out onto the uncovered section of the deck. I began to sway to the sounds of ‘Party in the USA’ – America’s true national anthem. The sun shone brightly and the breeze off the lake immediately changed my mood. I wasn’t celebrating America’s independence, but I was celebrating a day off from work – Gloria should’ve been able to appreciate that for me.

But as I began to sing along with the crowd, a strange feeling came over me. Overwhelming bouts of shame filled my chest, leaving me physically gasping for air. As my anxiety reached its peak, a shrill scream interrupted my concerns.

“Sandy slipped and fell in, somebody do something!” I heard a voice scream. We all directed our attention to the boat beside us and the men diving in to save her.

The Sandy search team took turns diving underwater but was repeatedly unsuccessful. We all gathered to watch initially but eventually dispersed to separate parts of the boat.

“Why hasn’t she come back up?” I kept asking Lauren.

“She was bent over twerking. Maybe she hit her head on the deck on the way down,” Rubi responded sarcastically.

“Well, why haven’t they been able to find her?” I rebutted in a hushed whisper.

“Why don’t we move to another location?” Lauren, the ever-dutiful hostess, announced in an attempt to salvage the mood of the party. “Bill, move the boat.”

Our party slowly drifted away from the area of the accident before speeding up to move farther into the waters. During our short relocation, we witnessed another mishap; some passengers fought the flames that engulfed their lower deck while others put on life jackets and began to jump into the lake. We rode on from that area too but, from a distance, I could see that everyone ended up abandoning ship. It was like we couldn’t find a peaceful part of the lake.

The day continued like that – strange occurrences overshadowed by everyone’s drunkenness. The crazier the incidents became, the more everyone would justify their occurrences. I watched as people randomly went missing, I saw boats crash into docks unwarrantedly, and I watched countless people hurt themselves while diving into the murky waters. By sunset, Rubi and I were thoroughly inebriated and ready to hear the justification behind the occurrences.

“The lake is cursed,” Bill explained matter-of-factly. “Weird stuff happens here all the time. Of all people, I thought you would know,” he directed the comment at me and continued after reading my confusion. “It’s the ghosts of black people doing all this stuff. The ones who died on this land haunt the lake. It’s true! Ask any local officer, their only explanation is the supernatural. There’s like 7 deaths a year here.”

“So we’ve potentially watched like 40 percent of the lake’s annual death toll happen today?” Rubi joked, attempting to lighten the mood. Others laughed, but I couldn’t.

Sure, the idea of ghosts haunting the lake that was strategically placed upon a forgotten town where its residents were either forcibly removed or killed sounds a little outrageous. But the feeling that I kept having throughout the day paired with all the accidents on the water seemed to make this spooky story too real. That anxious feeling rolled over me again – alongside my drunken motion sickness. My head began to spin, so I leaned forward and placed my forehead to my knees. The small window of relief I had was replaced by a piercing scream.

“What is she doing?” I hear someone scream from the top deck of the boat. “Everyone, come and look!”

We all clumsily made our way to one side of the boat – our shifting weight forcing the vessel to lean to withstand the load.

“What are you talking about?” slurred Bill irritatedly.

“Look!” She pointed to the middle of the lake. There was a woman, standing upon the water in the center of the cluster of boats. Although she was quite some distance, I could see that she donned early 19th-century garb – a blue dress with long sleeves. Her kinky hair was barely visible as it was tucked under her headscarf. Her round eyes were angry and her nostrils flared as she assessed the scene before her – getting more infuriated by the minute. She glowed a supernatural aura that I could see but was unsure if anyone else could. She walked with her arms down at her side; I noticed that her hands were missing. But more importantly, she walked atop the lake’s water with ease – something that no one seemed to take into consideration as we all were only able to float in the boats.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Bill responded with a chuckle, “Mariah, you know her? She some kinfolk of yours or something?”

I could feel uneasy eyes dart between him and me in an attempt to assess my response, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the beautiful woman on the water. When her eye met mine, her anger was replaced by relief – as if she spotted a familiar face – then trepidation, which sent a chill down my spine.

“I think we should go,” I thought I announced loudly when only Rubi could hear me. Eyes locked with the ghostly woman, I was in a trance.

“What’s happening, Mariah?” Rubi asked.

She smiled creepily at me before turning her attention to a nearby boat. She plunged into the lake as if being dragged down by her feet, and the bow of the boat that she stared at went along with her.

“We gotta go!” I screamed and ran from the side closest to the scene; everyone followed, screaming in horror. Shrieks from other boats echoed off the waters.

Bill ran to the wheel and started the engine – it started with a roar. He barely waited to throw it into gear and turn away from the sinking ship. More screams rang out as another boat began to quickly sink into the waters. I watched some of its passengers jump off the deck to avoid sinking with it.

Bill revved the engine and drove the boat swiftly past the sinking boats and other fleeting parties. Strong winds kicked up waves and almost knocked the boat on its side. Screams echoed from all around us – I couldn’t see what was happening to others, but it sounded just as terrifying as my experience felt. Bouncing over waves, Bill got the boat to the outer banks of the lake. The waters were much calmer and the shrieking was in the far distance, but this part of the lake was completely isolated. Bill pulled up to an old dock and cut the boat’s engine.

I looked around the deck and realized about half of the party was missing – did they fall off? I didn’t see them disappear. Lauren was crying on the floor, clutching a seat. Rubi and I knelt trembling on the deck floor.

“I’m making a run for it. Maybe we can order an Uber,” Bill announced while pulling Lauren to her feet.

“There’s nothing out there, Bill. Let’s just stay on the boat until everything dies down, then we can head back towards the city,” I reasoned.

He continued to gather Lauren and others who were willing to follow him. Looking out into the wilderness, I saw nothing but darkness surrounding us – at least on the lake, we had the light of the moon to brighten the sky. As they disembarked, the winds began to pick up again and it sounded like the screams had followed us to our quiet dock. Rubi and I immediately followed behind the others, running into the trees and away from the wailing wind.

I could barely see anything ahead of me as I ran. Rubi and I continuously called out as to not lose each other, although it was hard to hear anything over the piercing scream of the disorienting wind. I heard a man’s voice scream out loudly for a while as if he was being dragged away, and I instinctively picked up my pace. I ran until my legs and lungs burned, I was trying to outrun the noise. I closed my eyes and began to scream along with the wind, and when I opened them, I had come across a small creaky house. Rubi and Lauren ran up behind me – we gave each other a skeptical look before agreeing to head in.

We shut the creaky door and backed into the room. “What are we running from?” Rubi’s voice asked shakily.

“Those noises!” Lauren shrieked, shaking fists down at her side. “And where’s Bill? He screamed and then disappeared, I know y’all heard it.” She was pointing an accusatory finger at us while crying.

I quickly walked around the small decaying house using the flashlight on my phone. It looked like it survived for a century or more. It was also so isolated from any other human contact that I wondered if this house was one of the surviving homes of Oscarville.

The moonlight shone through the house’s only window. Rubi paced back and forth, on edge. Lauren sat in the corner, hugging her knees to her chest. I checked my phone to see if I had any service – no luck. We were about an hour from the city, and how could we even get there? This would be where we died, celebrating the 4th of July. Gloria would get to be right, again – she would reveal this during her eulogy for me.

“What’s going on?” The question kept trembling from Lauren’s mouth as if she were chanting. “What the fuck is going on, Mariah?!”

“Why are you asking me? I don’t know!” I spat back.

“This all started when that slave woman saw you at the lake. Now, we’re being attacked. Just make it stop!”

“If your logic is based on the notion that only black people can stop the ‘slave ghost’, you sound incredibly racist…”

“You knew how to get here! We followed you to this shack on the obscure outer shores. How’d you know about this place?” She questioned suspiciously.

“This shack is protecting you from whatever is happening out there. Be more respectful or you can weather the storm from outside,” Rubi snarled.

As much as I appreciated the ferocious defense from Rubi, I was wondering if Lauren was right. After the boat docked I knew to run in this direction, but I never thought there was a reason why. Instinctively at first – sure, but after running for a while, it felt like I was being pulled to this very spot. Lauren’s accusatory stares were inconsiderate and for the first time, I wished that she got snatched up by whatever was out there.

A loud banging hit and shook the front door. We all jumped and huddled together in a corner of the room. The door pushed open and I squeezed my eyes shut. I knew if I was gonna die, manic-horror style, I didn’t want to look death in the eyes. I held my breath and prepared for the end but when nothing happened, I peeked them open to see four figures standing in the doorway.

“Oh my God, are y’all okay?” One of the voices asked – a woman’s voice.

“Hurry up and get in, so I can close the door,” a more irritated male voice hissed, pushing his way in.

I couldn’t see their faces by moonlight, so I shined my flashlight at their shoes and slowly moved it up to their faces. Two men and women stood in their bathing suits and large wet shirts. Their eyes were filled with fear of the unknown, which was disappointing. That meant they knew less about what was happening than we did. Also, they were all black.

Lauren got to her feet, eyes bulging from her head. She inched around the room, her back to the wall, pointing at us all, “You see? It’s here to get me – to get us! How are you all safe?”

As she inched closer to the door, our new party guests slowly moved closer to us. One of the girls looked at me, “Is she alright?”

“She’s having a panic attack, I think. She’s not normally this crazy…” I began.

“I’m not crazy!” She screamed, standing at the door of the house. “But if there’s something that you know that I don’t know, you can just tell me!” Her screeching matched the wind, so much so that I covered my ears and closed my eyes. I looked back up in time to see the wind snatch her body through the window – snatching all the noise with her.

No one said a word, we all looked at each other.

What was left was silence.