Beth Greene and The Swamp Witch Who Wasn't Really a Witch
"You've - w-what?" Beth stammered, blinking rapidly and numbly reaching her hand out to shake Morgan's. "Seen a lot about me…?"
He chuckled and gripped her hand firmly, giving it a hearty shake before releasing. "I've had many visions of you, I know your plight," he said confidently. He spoke with a light Southern accent, much less of a drawl than what was common so far south of Atlanta, and clearly enunciated all his words. "I want to give you guidance. I want to help. Are you willing to accept that help?"
Beth glanced over at Daryl for reassurance, completely dumbstruck and unsure of how to process all this new information. She was still struggling to understand how she could've misimagined this person so horribly, let alone how she could accept help from someone who already knew her name without her saying it. And he claimed to have had visions about her? This was even more insane than she ever could've prepared for.
But Daryl appeared just as awestruck as she was, and Merle remained silent behind her, arms crossed over his chest while he sucked on his teeth thoughtfully. She could feel the waves of distrust and apprehension radiating off both of the brothers like electricity.
"Well… yeah, yeah of course," she agreed, staring into Morgan's eyes with a thousand and one questions and wringing her hands together nervously. "I just - okay, so you can see him? You can actually see Merle?" She turned her body slightly and gestured to Merle, who grinned and lifted his chin proudly before giving Morgan a wink.
Morgan chuckled again, amused. Then he nodded and said, "I most certainly can. We all can."
He smiled so casually that it threw Beth off. She was still in disbelief. She quirked an eyebrow and asked him, "You all can? Even him?" She pointed to Duane, who looked surprised but didn't reply. He quickly looked to his dad for a reaction.
Morgan met his son's eyes and they shared a nod of the head, then he told Beth, "Duane can see him, but only faintly, and he can't quite hear him yet. My son is still learning - it's a lengthy process. However, to Eastman and I, he's plain as day."
"Then what's he look like?" She challenged.
She hadn't meant to make it sound like she doubted this man - he was the only person who seemed like he could really help her so the last thing she wanted was to upset or insult him. But she needed proof. After being practically haunted by someone that literally no other living person could hear, she was filled with doubt. She wasn't about to just walk into some weird swamp guy's weird swamp house without knowing for sure that he could see and hear the dead guy that had been glued to her hip for the last three days.
Morgan smirked as though she'd told a joke and without a glance in Merle's direction, he responded, "Ugly."
Daryl let out a "hah!" from behind Beth and she found herself smiling as well, unable to stop herself. Merle, on the other hand, didn't find it so funny. He immediately threw up a middle finger and spat on the ground.
"Hey, fuck you! The hell if I'm gonna stand here an' be insulted by some big-nosed goddamn spearchucker."
Beth shot him a scathing glare and frowned while Eastman tapped his stick on the porch in a displeased fashion. But Morgan was unfazed.
He continued smirking as he focused his gaze on Merle and explained, "I don't mean physically unattractive - I mean your soul is ugly. You led a dark life, Merle Dixon. You were not kind. You learned nothing from your mistakes. For every wound that was inflicted upon you during your time on this mortal plane, you inflicted twice as many upon others; those who didn't deserve it and yes, also those who did. Nonetheless, you hurt a lot of people and left immeasurable anguish in your wake…" He paused and winked before adding, "But I'm sure you already knew that."
Beth's eyes had grown wide at this and she turned to stare at Merle, whose jaw dropped open as he blinked dumbly, rendered speechless. He let out a little sound that was somewhere between a scoff and a whine. He looked to Beth as if she would help him. She merely gave him a knowing smile that said, Well, what'd you expect?
"Well that sure sounds like him," Daryl growled, crossing his arms over his chest and standing a bit more relaxed. He appeared to be pleased by Morgan's evaluation of his dead brother and ready to hear more.
"And fuck you too, Darylina!" Merle spat, glaring at his living brother. "All I fuckin' did fer you an' this is how you keep my memory alive? Ungrateful sonuvabitch."
"What memory?" Beth snapped. "Maybe if you'd left something worthwhile behind, he wouldn't talk about you that way. Just admit that you were an awful person and shut up."
Daryl took a step back, clearly put-off by the way Beth angrily spoke to the seemingly thin air beside him. He shoved his hands in his pockets and glanced around at the other men, who hadn't batted an eye at the exchange, before settling his eyes on Beth. There was a thoughtful expression on his face where there would normally be an expression of doubt and concern.
He was slowly coming to terms with the reality of what was going on - and dare she say, accepting it. Not like he had much of a choice at this point. Besides, he wouldn't have come all this way with her if he hadn't at least somewhat believed her… right? Or did he need all the answers she needed before he'd finally be one-hundred-and-fifty percent convinced? If he needed to literally see his dead brother like she'd been seeing him, then she wasn't so sure he'd ever be fully convinced because there was no way that was ever going to happen.
Merle crossed his arms over his chest and grumbled under his breath angrily, glaring at Beth. She turned back to Morgan and sighed.
"He's the worst," she said. "Like, the absolute literal worst. So all I want is to get rid of him. I don't know what you've seen about me or what you know, but - "
Morgan put up a hand to stop her and interrupted, "It's okay, Beth. You don't need to explain ta me. A dead person has no business wandering about the mortal plane, botherin' those of us who are just tryin' to go about our day. There's something much bigger than his soul crossing over that needs to be resolved here. And you an' I will figure it out." He smiled warmly and reassuringly before looking to Daryl and adding, "And you, too."
Daryl glanced around at first, as though Morgan could've been talking to Merle, but when he realized the black man's eyes were set on him, he gave a puzzled look. "Me? Why - just 'cause he's my brother? You tellin' me I gotta clean up his messes even after he's dead?"
Morgan shook his head and explained, "Not quite. But nearly every vision I've seen involves you. Heavily. As much as you may not like it, you're an integral part of this, Daryl Dixon."
Daryl pursed his lips and stared back at Morgan unblinkingly, the color slowly draining from his face.
Beth interjected and asked Morgan, "Why me, though? What connection do I have that made me need to be a part of this? Or was it just bad luck?"
His smile faded. "I was wondering the same thing," he said. "I have a lot of questions for you." He glanced over at Merle pointedly and added, "For both of you."
Merle scoffed but Beth nodded, swallowing hard and trying to ignore the knot that was forming in her stomach. "Okay. I'll tell you whatever you want - as long as you answer all of my questions."
She glanced back at Daryl before firmly adding, "And Daryl's."
Morgan stepped aside and gestured to the door behind him. "Let's not waste any more time then. I've been preparing for you."
The inside of the small house that sat on the edge of the swamp was not exactly what Beth had been expecting, but it was a lot less surprising than finding out that the Swamp Witch was actually an older black man who seemed mostly normal and sane.
Sunlight poured in through the numerous windows, diluted by the aged, water-stained glass and giving the entire place a hazy, almost mystical appearance. The inside walls and floor looked to be made of the same dark, unpainted wood as the rest of the property. There was the faintest trace of smoke drifting through the air from a burning incense that sat atop the mantle at the far side of the one-roomed cabin. At the other side was a small kitchen area right next to two small sections that were blocked off by large hanging blankets - assumedly the sleeping areas for Morgan and Duane (though Beth wasn't sure where Eastman stayed and wasn't about to ask). And beside the cold, dark fireplace was a worn wooden door that presumably led to a tiny bathroom. But right in the middle was a spacious living area, where a small couch sat near the backdoor with an old, chipped coffee table in front of it.
And on the opposite side of the room was a circular table surrounded by six plain chairs. Something sat atop the table, directly in the center, but a big thick blanket was draped over it and keeping it hidden. There was a single large rug, dark green and decorated with strange symbols and markings, in the middle of the floor. The front door was completely covered by a huge, thick, multi-layered black curtain.
The walls reminded Beth of Lady Jadis's strange place of business, though this swamp house was far less tacky overall. Instead of cliche posters, tapestries, and hanging beads, there were several paintings decorating the walls, all of them completely unfamiliar to her. They appeared similar to the painting Merle had pointed out at the psychic's shop, though none of them resembled the pipe-smoking man that had been depicted. They seemed to all be scenes from strange tales she'd never been told, demons and ghouls and ghosts and angels, more foreign symbols and markings. There was even a painting of a family of alligators hanging in the corner, and Beth couldn't help noticing that one of the hand-painted gators looked an awful lot like Tabitha - albeit smaller.
They all stepped inside, first Beth and then Daryl (and Merle), followed quickly by Morgan and Duane. Eastman entered only long enough to eyeball Daryl, and once the living Dixon had stepped foot inside and begun looking around curiously with his hands still shoved in his pockets, Eastman gave Morgan a nod and said, "Holler if you need us." Then he left, gently shutting the backdoor behind him.
"Duane, did you get that tea ready?" Morgan turned to his son, who nodded and silently walked to the kitchen area to fetch a prepared platter of mason jars.
Before Morgan could say anything else, Daryl took a step forward and jerked his head in the general direction of the door that Eastman had just left through. "Alrigh' - what's the deal with that guy? It's one thing that y'all talk to ghosts or whatever, but you really gonna tell me y'all keep a fuckin' alligator as a pet?"
Merle cackled from where he stood and surprisingly, Morgan chuckled with amusement as well. Duane approached with the platter of mason jars, all of which were filled with iced tea and topped with lemon slices, and he was laughing along with his dad. He set the platter down on the old coffee table and stepped back to stand beside Morgan.
"Tabitha's not a pet," Duane said matter-of-factly. "There ain't no pets out here."
"There aren't any pets out here," Morgan corrected, giving his son a sharp side-eye.
Duane nodded and looked at his father apologetically. "That's what I meant."
Daryl grunted and muttered, "Well whatever you wanna call it, don'tcha think it's a little weird? Li'l dangerous? An' how the hell'd ya get a damn ribbon on 'er without losin' a limb?"
Duane laughed and Morgan smiled, shaking his head.
"That's all Eastman. He and Tabitha have a bond that even I could never truly understand," he explained with a nonchalant shrug. "But she's been good to us. She knows friends and she knows family, and we are her family. Besides, we're all a little weird in our own ways, wouldn't you say?"
Daryl shrugged awkwardly and chewed on the end of his thumb.
"Is Eastman another - uh, witch?" Beth asked, unable to contain her curiosity any longer.
Duane laughed again and Morgan rolled his eyes in response, though he was still smiling. "I dunno that you'd call us witches."
Duane looked to his dad and said, "But it's in our roots, Dad."
Morgan shrugged and agreed, "Yes, that's true, Son." He turned back to Beth and Daryl and went on, "My grandmother was a witch - and she would proudly tell anyone. She immigrated from Haiti to New Orleans and brought her culture with my family. She inherited what she called Gifts, which I inherited from her, and luckily Duane inherited them as well. But yeah, I suppose you could say that Eastman taught me everything I know. Well… he guided me, more accurately. He inherited a number of his own Gifts. And we've taught each other a lotta things over the years, which we're now teaching Duane."
"What're you teachin' him? How ta bond with alligators?" Daryl asked, his tone growing impatient.
Beth sighed and was about to tell him to get off the gator thing, but Morgan laughed softly and gestured toward the couch.
"Have a seat, have some sweet tea," he urged. "I'll tell you the story of Tabitha and you can try ta wrap your head around it. Then we can move on to the elephant in the room." He jabbed a thumb in Merle's direction and Beth giggled.
Merle frowned and leaned his shoulder against the mantle of the fireplace. "Keep makin' fun a me, asshole. I'll turn this whole goddamn place upside down."
"Not if you want help, you won't," Morgan quipped back. His voice was deep and stern, his response so sudden and reflexive that it made Beth's breath hitch in her chest.
Her jaw dropped and she looked over to see that Merle's mouth had snapped shut. He pressed his lips into a thin line, speechless.
Was that fear in his eyes?
The story of Tabitha was heartwarming, in Beth's opinion.
As it turned out, Tabitha was an orphan. Years ago and several miles away from the cabin on the edge of the swamp, Eastman had come across the slaughtered carcasses of two very large alligators and a decimated hoard of eggs. And to Eastman's dismay, all but one of the eggs were destroyed. "Selfish humans who wanted gator-skin boots and other useless shit," Morgan explained with a scowl. Eastman had been living in the swamps for a few years at that point, and he'd become rather adept at caring for the wildlife that inhabited the area. Needless to say, he scooped up the surviving egg and took it back to his tiny little cabin that lay nestled within the trees. And when Tabitha eventually hatched, he was the first living being she laid eyes on. She imprinted on him and made a habit of following him around like a dog, sleeping with him, living with him. He cared for her, fed her, kept her safe, helped her become strong. She grew. And grew. And grew. He helped her to find other alligators and to integrate into normalcy, but she kept coming back to him. And kept growing. She started a family of her own, birthed and raised her very own set of hatchlings. But she never left Eastman's vicinity for longer than a day or two at a time. Ever. She ended up raising 7 offspring, all of which were fully grown nowadays and just as loyal to their human friends as she had always been.
They all resided in the swamps that surrounded Morgan's cabin, spreading out for miles and miles. As Morgan explained it, Tabitha became something like a 'guard dog.' If they were going to consider Eastman the 'doorman,' that is. (And Beth did, because it made things feel less… weird.) But in actuality, he admitted, she was family. Eastman had tied that pink ribbon around her leg years ago without any expectation that it would stay - or that she wouldn't rip it off the first chance she got. (No, he didn't lose a limb or so much as a fingernail. Yes, Tabitha likes to be pet and groomed and even cuddled every now and then.) Yet the ribbon remained, like a little symbol of their lifelong connection. And the bond between man and alligator had become unbreakable. It had become something surreal, something supernatural.
Then again, Morgan explained, everything in their world was supernatural. For him and Duane and Eastman, this was their day-to-day life. They bonded and related with nature and animals alike. They lived side-by-side with ancient beings and unseen forces. They teetered on the razor-thin edges between planes of existence with ease. They spoke with the dead just the same as they spoke with the living. They honed abilities and cherished Gifts that 'normal people' could never begin to comprehend.
Ghosts and visions of the future and witchcraft and pet alligators… All that and more was the norm around these parts.
Yet, by the end of Tabitha's intriguing origin story, Morgan had made it all seem very normal, almost natural. Beth felt herself relaxing on the couch beside Daryl, slowly accepting and growing accustomed to the abnormal circumstances that had brought her here. Maybe it wasn't all so weird or unbelievable after all. Maybe, she contemplated, it was just another side of the world - of life - that she'd never really considered, let alone had the chance to explore.
But even at this point, she found herself worrying about what Daryl thought, afraid that his perpetual doubt would risk everything. She glanced over at him to gauge his reaction and was surprised to see him staring at Morgan intently, hanging on every word and nodding along, deeply invested in the story. It made her confidence skyrocket and the worry disappeared. If the biggest skeptic in the room looked like he was starting to believe this whole thing was for real, then maybe that was a good sign for what was to come.
At least he'll have no reason to think I'm on drugs or having a psychotic break now, Beth thought triumphantly.
Unless it was like one of those 'mass hysteria' things she'd read about in school… No, no she couldn't be allowing herself to think like that. Merle was definitely real, he was not a shared hallucination, and she needed to figure out how to get rid of him.
She also needed to figure out why he'd been so worried earlier. Why he'd made her promise to continue helping him no matter what she found out. What the hell did he think she was going to learn that would make her walk away after coming so far? And how did it involve Daryl?
"So what's she eat? I mean…"
"Well, he's always encouraged her to be self-sufficient, and she's plenty equipped with natural hunter instincts - "
"Okay, I'm sorry, I don't mean ta be rude and interrupt but," Beth interjected, putting up a hand and looking back and forth between Morgan standing before her and Daryl sitting beside her. "Can we move on to the, um - the subject at hand?"
Merle groaned and Duane laughed softly and Beth blushed, pursing her lips with uncertainty.
"Oh, c'mon - I wanna hear more about Tabitha!" Merle objected from where he stood leaning against the mantle.
Daryl looked at Beth and raised his eyebrows, hands held out quizzically. "But, Beth - they have an alligator as a friend. I got so many questions."
She gave him an indignant look and said, "Daryl, your dead brother is haunting me."
"You ain't even seen haunted yet, sweetcheeks," Merle quipped.
She nearly rolled her eyes as Morgan chuckled and shook his head. Then he waved a hand in her direction and said, "No, you're right. There're much more important matters to discuss. There's a lot of questions we all need answered."
He paused and grabbed one of the chairs from the table, pulling it over and sitting down on the other side of the coffee table to face Daryl and Beth. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, brown eyes settling on her with intensity. Then he asked, "Where d'you wanna start?"
Beth straightened her back and focused her gaze on him, mirroring the serious expression on his face. "How about the dead guy who claims he was murdered? And why I'm the only one who can see him - of all people?"
She glanced pointedly at Daryl but he didn't seem to notice. He was staring at Morgan too, waiting tensely for an answer, all stern and serious. He seemed to have scooted closer towards her across the couch, but she wasn't really paying attention to that.
Not at all, actually. Not one single bit.
Morgan hesitated and opened his mouth to answer but Beth had another thought and stopped him.
"Sorry, but - maybe we should start with the visions," she said, trying to ignore the blush that was rising in her cheeks. She had so many questions and she hadn't really rehearsed any of them beforehand. They were all bubbling up and she wanted all the answers at once, though she knew she'd have to be patient. She wanted to start from the beginning. "You said you've seen a lot about me, and when Duane gave me the map, he said you'd seen me in a vision. And he said something about 'time being the vengeful enemy's weapon?' I - "
Morgan sighed and motioned for Beth to pause, which she did. He immediately looked over at Duane, who was smirking.
"Dammit, Duane! Did you get all theatrical again? I told you to deliver the map an' pass on the message like a normal person. It's bad enough you called me the Swamp Witch. Now, see? You went an' scared the poor girl."
Duane laughed and shrugged. "How am I s'posed ta tell somebody that we live in a swamp and see visions about 'em without gettin' a little theatrical? C'mon Dad, don't be a buzzkill."
Morgan shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, shaking his head. Then he waved his hand in his son's direction and said, "Go on out an' help Eastman. I'm gonna handle this one on my own."
Duane rolled his eyes but didn't argue. He grabbed his mason jar of sweet tea and left out the backdoor, shutting it gently behind him. Once he was gone, Morgan turned his full attention back to Beth and Daryl.
"I apologize," he said, focusing on Beth as he spoke. "He reads too many damn comic books. I didn't wanna scare you like that or make you hesitant about comin' to me for help. It's true that we don't have all the time in the world, but I knew you wouldn't wait long to seek me out no matter the circumstances. There was no need for my son ta be so melodramatic."
"I think the kids call that 'being extra' nowadays," Merle remarked with an amused smirk. Then he raised his eyebrows as though he were surprised with himself and said to Beth, "See, blondie? Told ya I was learnin' shit from them girly magazines in yer closet!"
Beth chose to ignore him and continued talking to Morgan, unable to find the humor in much of anything at the moment. She was getting impatient. "Let's start with the visions. And the fact that you said you were expecting a pair of living visitors - how'd you know it was supposed to be Daryl?"
"Yeah, I'd like ta know that too," Daryl agreed.
"What all did you see?" Beth asked, a hint of urgency leaking into her tone despite her best efforts to remain patient. "You knew my name, you knew what I'd be driving, you knew I went an' talked to Lady Jadis. Did you see a bunch more than that, or…?"
Morgan lifted his eyebrows and seemed a bit taken aback at first, though Beth knew he was just trying to figure out what answer to begin with. Then he nodded. He gazed at her contemplatively, then at Daryl, then back to her.
He replied, "I've seen glimpses of both the past and the future. I had many visions of you, Beth. I peeked into your childhood, I witnessed some of the things that helped shape who you are. It was a bit hazy at first - I didn't even know your name for the first three days that you appeared during my meditation sessions. But then it all became clear. And I saw Merle finding you; I saw those woods, your wicker basket, the flowers you were going to pick. I saw you trying to run away from him - continuously. And of course, I saw you searching for help. I saw the big black Ford that your daddy lets you drive, I saw the cross necklace yer mama gave you that you never take off. And I saw you stumble upon a woman who cannot control her Gifts, let alone fully understand them. She gave you some very good advice, but would you have heeded it had Duane not come along with that map? I don't know and I don't want to know. As soon as I saw you in front of that psychic's shop, I sent Duane to Atlanta to catch you. I knew that moment would be my only chance to reach out and offer help."
He paused and the intensity in his eyes became deeper, as did his voice when he added, "And thank God you accepted."
Beth's breath caught in her throat as his words sank in. She was staring back at him dumbly, trying to read his face and figure out exactly how much he'd seen. But before she could find her voice to ask another question, Daryl spoke up.
"And me?" He asked gruffly. "'D you see me, too? Or'd you jus' take some wild guess an' claim that the living brother needed ta be here ta deal with all this shit?"
Morgan shook his head and turned his intense gaze on Daryl. "It was no guess, Daryl. Your involvement isn't without purpose. I saw you, too."
"Our fates are intertwined," Beth burst out. She blinked, blushing, and avoided looking over to meet Daryl's curious eyes even though she could feel them on her. She quickly explained, "That's what Duane said - he said our fates would be determined the same."
Merle groaned loudly. "Spoiler alert!"
to be continued...
