It was the dead body of Swamp Thing.

Ernie Carter stared at the carcass. It was nearly 7’ long, and looked pretty heavy with weeds and such. He could tell that it was the outline of a man. He’d heard stories about the Swamp Thing before, and he knew that that had to be the husk of the creature.

He got down on his hands and knees. Gently, he reached a hand deep inside the pod of the monster. His fingers felt around inside the body; squishing dead things and long ago faltered organs.

And then he felt it.

Ernie pulled his hand out. In his small palm, he held what appeared to look like the thing’s heart. It was a thick pocket of mucous, resembling a fat and overgrown artichoke, and was filled with seeds.

“This is it,” he said. “It’s the Swamp Thing’s heart.”

Ernie stood up. He couldn’t believe his luck. With these seeds, he could grow his own Swamp Thing. He could nurture himself his own friend!

He quickly ran back through the swamp until he came to Roger Daltrey’s old Cadillac. It’d been blown there during the past hurricane, and was a regular hideout for Ernie. His Mom always told him and his friends to stay away from the old rusted vehicle, but, of course, that only made them want to go there more.

Ernie slumped back against the car. He studied the heart he held in his hands. He knew exactly where he was going to plant it.

Gathering his breath, he stalked off into the swamp. For a few moments he had considered planting it in the middle of Leon Clark’s cornfield, but he didn’t want the old man stumbling upon it. So, he found a secluded spot in the swamp and planted the heart.

“I’ll take good care of you,” he told the plant.

Overhead, the sky was darkening. The moon was beginning to peak out from behind a blanket of bruised purple clouds.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” said Ernie.

And then he turned and ran back towards home.

Behind him, the plant wiggled in the darkness.

Like most everyone else in Cove Hollow, Ernie Carter lived in a mobile home. And it was there that he saw his mother come home later that night after her shift at the plant.

“What have you been doing all day?” she asked, bringing in the groceries.

“I found a discarded body of the Swamp Thing and planted its heart in the bayou. I’m going to grow myself a friend.”

“That sounds nice,” said his mother, uninterested. She opened up one of the cabinets and smirked. “I thought we didn’t have beans! Now we have five cans of the stuff.”

Ernie sat on the couch and watched his mother. He thought she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. How his father had ever mistreated her was beyond him.

His mother finished putting up the groceries. Then she grabbed a liquor bottle from the cabinet and went to sit at the kitchen table. She unscrewed the top and poured herself a glass of bourbon.

“Honey,” she said, “do you ever miss your father?”

Ernie thought about it for a second. He shrugged. “I guess.”

“You don’t, do you?”

“Not really,” he agreed. “I feel better when he’s not around.”

“Me too,” said his mother. She sighed and took a long pull of her bourbon. She set the glass back down. “Would you like to leave here?”

“And go where?” asked Ernie.

“I’m thinking Missouri,” she said. “We could go and live with your Aunt Alice.”

“That might be nice,” he agreed.

“One day,” she told Ernie, “we’re just going to up and leave here. Before your father gets back.”

Ernie thought about that for a second. He was no longer watching the cartoons on the TV as he gave that situation serious consideration.

“I’d like that,” he said.

“So would I,” said his mother.

And then she took another deep swallow of the bourbon.

“I’m afraid,” said Chester. “I don’t want to go any farther.”

“Don’t be a pussy,” said Ernie. He looked back at his friend, Chester. The little boy was standing there, pushing his glasses up his sweaty nose. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“Maybe,” Chester said. “But I’m stopping here. There are too many dangers that deep in the swamp.” He clamped his hands together and gnashed them like big teeth. “There are alligators out there.”

“I steer clear of those,” Ernie told him. “Besides, I wouldn’t go anywhere too scary. Now the places my dad used to go… whoa. Those were scary places.”

Chester leaned back against the rusting Cadillac. He pulled two sandwiches out of a brown paper bag he was carrying. “You want a peanut butter sandwich?”

“Sure,” said Ernie. He walked over and took the sandwich. He took a bite, churning it around in his mouth, and thought about the plant he was growing. It was going to be a God-like experience when he was done with it.

“What do you think about Heaven?” asked Ernie. “What do you think it’s like?”

Chester smiled through a mouthful of peanut butter. “My heaven would be where my mom made me peanut butter sandwiches for the rest of my life. And I could eat watermelon all day long. It would be the greatest thrill of my entire life!” He swallowed his bit of the sandwich. “How about you?” he asked.

Ernie thought long and hard. He wanted to tell Chester that his heaven lay within that husk of the Swamp Thing. That all the love he would ever need, besides that which he had with his mother, was wrapped in that stalk. But he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. That was a secret he would keep with himself.

“I guess to always be with my mother,” he said. “And live somewhere far away from here. Missouri, maybe.”

“That sounds good,” said Chester. He finished off his peanut butter sandwich. “I need something to drink. You want to come back to my house with me?”

Ernie thought about his plant growing out there in the swamp. He wanted to go to it; he needed to go to it. But he figured that tomorrow is another day.

“Okay,” he said. “I’m pretty thirsty, too. And maybe we can get your mom to make us another sandwich.”

“Great minds think alike,” said Chester.

And the two boys headed out and away from the swamps…

Over the upcoming months, the Swamp Thing that Ernie had planted had become big enough for him to climb inside. He explored the things innards, spending hours inside the creature.

But he knew there was something wrong with it.

Its stomach area had become a bristling cesspool of acidic liquid. Ernie wasn’t for sure, but he thought the plant was eating itself from the inside out.

Every night he would go home worried about his plant.

Until one evening everything changed…

There came a knock on the door. And when his mother answered it, his father was standing there. It was pouring rain, and as his father appeared out of the shadows, a bolt of lightning illuminated his haggard face.

“I’ve come back to you a different man, Betty. Please, let me in.”

Betty stood aside and allowed her husband, Fred, to enter the house. He stood there, drenched from head-to-foot, smiling.

“The Lord Jesus Christ has saved me,” he said. “And I hope you can forgive me. I’m a changed man.”

Betty didn’t know what to say for a moment. And then she suddenly reached out and hugged her husband. It had been months since the last time she’d seen him and, honestly, she felt the touch of a man.

Ernie had heard his mother’s story plenty of times about how she’d been attracted to his father because he’d been a bad ass biker that’d been to prison and had tattoos and all sorts of bullshit. She’d also been keen to tell Ernie not to judge a book by its cover.

“How are you doing, squirt?” Fred asked Ernie.

Ernie shrugged his shoulders. He wasn’t sure he was going to buy into this Jesus Christ act.

And as the weeks passed, he became even more assured that his father was a bullshit artist.

It was true that he took them to church every Sunday, and attended the traveling tent revivals when they blew threw town. And he made Ernie clean himself up more to be a “good Christian”. He also was treating his mother better than he probably ever had.

But there still seemed to be something wrong.

Whenever his father would burp, Ernie could smell a rotten stench infiltrate the air. He wasn’t sure, but he thought his father was boozing again.

And he got his confirmation when one night, returning from his plant, Ernie saw his father pull a bottle out of the trash can and drink from its lip.

It was all a scam.

One night, while they were eating dinner, Ernie watched as his father completely lost it.

“You see these peas on your plate? They are all the people of the world. And do you know what happens when the Rapture comes?” Fred scooped up a spoonful of peas and pushed them inside his mouth. Spitting chewed peas, he said: “Those are the saved souls that turned themselves to Jesus Christ!” He pointed towards the peas left on his plate. “And these are the murderers and perverts and sinners that turned their back to Him! There is no salvation for them.”

“Please,” said Betty. “You’re scaring me.”

And it was true. She loved Fred, but sometimes he really went overboard with his Christianity. The other night she had been getting ready for bed when he’d told her that she looked like a harlot. Betty looked down at her full-length gown and didn’t know what to say. He was also adamant that they wouldn’t have sex until they renewed their vows.

“Shut up, bitch.”

Suddenly, the cat was out of the bag.

“What did you say?” said Betty.

“I told you to hush, bitch. The good book says that you’re here to obey me, so shut the fuck up!”

“Don’t talk to my momma that way!” shouted Ernie.

Fred looked at him, gape-jawed. Then he stood up from his chair, turning it over on the floor with a loud crash. His hand jerked down to his belt and began to pull it from his pants.

“I’ll teach you to sass me!”

Ernie bolted from his chair. He flew out the front door and headed for the swamps. Fred had told him to stay away from the bayou, but he’d gone against his wishes and still visited his plant. And that was where he was headed now. Only this time he had a belt-wielding Fred on his ass.

Ernie passed the old Cadillac. He could still hear Fred behind him, gaining. If he could only make it to the plant, he’d be safe.

And then there it was.

Behind him, Fred finally caught up. His attention had been riveted on Ernie until he saw the massive plant figure growing up from the ground. He’d seen the Swamp Thing before in his past, and now here he was looking at a mutation of the monster. Its body was strewn out around the swamp, while its bulbous head appeared to stare directly at him.

Ernie ran into the plant via the husk’s open mouth.

“You stay out of there!” screamed Fred. But he knew the boy wasn’t going to listen to him. He’d have to go inside and get him out.

Damn, he needed a drink…

He charged into the thing’s head. His feet stuck in greenish brown mucous that he thought looked like its tongue. And that’s when he saw the great light beaming down through its lone eyeball.

Fred looked up at it. And he instantly went blind.

“Dear God!” he blurted. “I really have seen the light! It’s a miracle!”

From behind him, Ernie watched him fumble around inside the thing’s being. He silently followed after his hated father as he stumbled deeper into the plant.

“I’m going to find you!” he screamed. “And when I do, I’m going to put the fear of God into you!”

But Ernie was silent.

Instead, he watched as Fred neared the thing’s stomach. He knew what was going to happen. And it unfolded just like he knew it would.

Fred came to the edge of its stomach. Still he was bellowing bible verses at the top of his lungs. And then one false step and there he went: PLOP!

Instantly, the acidic glop ate away at his bones. Ernie clamped his hands over his ears as his father screamed. He looked down into the cesspool for his father and all he saw was a flesh-eaten skull appear out of the mess. He turned his back as it dipped into the morass and slowly disappeared.

Ernie sighed.

It was time for him to return to his mother and tell her what happened. There was a part of him that didn’t want to divulge his secret plant, but he knew there was no other way. He would tell her, and he’d show her the bottle in the trash can, and he’d beg her to leave.

Ernie turned around and began to make his way out of the plant.

It was all over.

That October, the cool winds blew through the trees. The full moon played down on Leon Clark’s long dead corn crops.

And Chester was left to stare at the empty mobile home where Ernie had once lived. Now, his friend lived somewhere in Missouri. Chester had heard that a new family was going to be moving in soon, and he hoped that they’d have a little boy he could play with, too.

But he wasn’t going to be holding his breath.

Meanwhile, deep in the swamp, the plant had slowly died a lonely death. Unable to sustain itself, it had simply withered away. Some would say it was because it missed Ernie, its only friend. While others would say it was the dying time of the year, and others, if they knew, would say it was the acid that ate it alive.

Either way, it was dead.

And Ernie was alive.

That’s all that really matters, isn’t it?