IT SEEMED that many of the weird encounters related by people take place in the dead of night. Most of them happen to unsuspecting travellers. The rest happens to people who just don’t care about the many warnings and stories about peculiar encounters.

Pablo was one of those unconcerned citizens. The only thing that truly concerned him was rum. He had a good relationship with all three rum parlours in the village of Alexander. The owners allowed him to drink and pay later when he received his salary. He never failed to do this, so rum flowed every time he visited. Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays were his designated spirits days. Nothing else mattered.

During one of these binges, stories surfaced about attacks on villagers by ‘Jumbie’ and ‘Old Higue’. He paid little attention to this. As far as he was concerned Alexander should fix the roads, water and electricity. If they did that there would be less time for gossips and superstitions.

Saturday night was always his big night. He drank and drank sharing lude jokes with his buddies. Sometime after 01:00hrs, the rain began to pour. As was his luck, it happened while he was staggering home along a long, lonely dark stretch of road. He looked around for shelter but none was available. He lumbered on.
The rain stopped, but by that time he was soaked. His clothes felt as though they weighed a ton and his shoes had water in them.

Squish!
Slosh!
His journey became that much harder and louder. Then the wind picked up. This brought a chill that caused him to tremble as it bit into his skinny body. As he walked up ahead he saw a light. Someone was riding or walking toward him with a bright light to show the way. As the light drew nearer it became bigger and brighter. Soon it took on proportions, unlike any light he had ever seen except the sun and full moon. Then the light vanished.

As he approached the spot where he had last seen the light he looked suspiciously around. Off to his right was an old, abandoned building. It had housed a small abattoir that had been closed for many years now. His eyes honed in on the bright body of light moving around in the usually dark structure.

Rum mixed with curiosity and topped with stupidity got the better of him. Pablo decided to investigate. He made a determined zigzag march towards the building trying to move as quietly as he could. As he neared the open doorway he stepped on a beer can.
Crunch!

The light went out immediately. Puzzled and intrigued, his next move was what he later said was direct intervention.
“Is who in dey!?” His drunken words were slightly slurred.
Silence.
“Yo is man or spirit?” he demanded, growing more and more brazen by the silence that greeted him.
Again stillness and darkness

“You is either a jackass or one frighten Jumbie!”
With that, he bellowed in laughter and headed down the dark road for home.
Some basic instinct warned him that something was wrong. Whirling around, he saw a large body of light or what looked like fire, moving towards him, fast.
It was much bigger than before. It glowed menacingly and sent waves of fear through his body. Pablo began to quake. The terrifying thing about the strange approaching light was that it was growing quickly as it approached.

From the depth of the fireball, a deep horrifying sound reached his ears.
“Mmmmmmmmm…!”
Pablo lost his struggle to stay strong and brave. He let out a howl that matched that of the mysterious being and ran screaming down the dark roadway.
“Aaaaaah!”

As drunk as he was, he made good headway. Pablo ended up borrowed under an old wooden bridge that stretched lazily across a wide trench. The trembling man realised too late that he was not alone under the structure. There in the darkest recess of the bridge was an ominous dark shape. Pablo felt as if he was about to pass out. He grabbed a nearby supporting log and clung to it, entirely dependent on it to keep upright, as much as it did for the bridge itself.

“Who is dat?” The grating voice was loud with laced with malice.
“Is m…m…me P-P-Pablo,” The quiver of terror was unmistakable.
“Wat yo doing in dis place? Why yo disturbing me peace?”
“Sarry Uncle. Ah just sheltering.”
There was not a cloud in the sky so Pablo’s fib was having no impact.
“Liar! Nobody disturbed me fo hundreds of years. Now you come fo harass me dis good night.”

The dark form moved threateningly towards the man who turned and got ready to flee. He saw the ball of fire approaching fast and decided to take his chances under the bridge. Death by fireball or death by dark and deadly ‘jumbie’ did not give him much of a choice. In utter panic, he dived for the darkest corner and tried to force himself as deep as he could go.
“Ow Gad help me!” he implored. He squeezed his eyes shut expecting to be killed by either the dark form or the ball of fire.

The light made straight for the bridge glowing in rage. From below the structure, the dark form advanced growing as it moved forward.
Its eyes flashed and its claws twinkled wickedly in the light. The ball of fire stopped abruptly. It then turned around and retreated as quickly as it had arrived. Pablo watched all this in astonishment. The dark form returning to its dwelling place.

“Yo lucky ah save yo. Batter ketch home fast. Rememba Old Hiue frighten water,” it said.
Pablo took the advice in the only way he knew how. He plunged headlong into the thick, black, muddy water and swam for home, clothes and all.