Chapter 6

"First you build a little teepee like this," Fisher instructed Danny and Shell, gathering twigs into a cone shape in the bottom of the stacked brick fire pit. A lighter appeared from his pocket and he flicked it, igniting a twisted piece of newspaper, which he carefully placed under the twigs. The newspaper flame flared then shrank away. Fisher scratched his head and grabbed a bottle of lighter fluid from the nearby barbecue grill. "When all else fails," he laughed, tossing the bottle to Danny.

After a generous squirt of lighter fluid, the fire roared to life and Uncle Ed arranged two thick logs on it, sending glowing embers fluttering into the night air.

"Well, I think it's time for the old folks to hit the hay. You kids be careful out here and, Fisher, make sure this fire is out when you're done, would you?" Uncle Ed said, starting toward the house.

Luke jammed a marshmallow onto a long thin stick and suspended it over the tips of the flames.

"So, Fisher..." Luke started, "How about that story?"

"Oh, right! You wanted to hear about Old Uncle Al..." Fisher paused. "I don't know, maybe I better not. I don't want to scare you guys."

"Aw, c'mon! Everyone in town knows the story!" Danny argued.

"I swear we won't be too scared," promised Luke. *Not any more than I already am, anyway.* he thought.

Fisher looked around at the kids flame-lit faces eagerly waiting to hear the tales and sighed loudly.

"Oh, alright, but if you can't sleep tonight don't come running to me." Fisher licked melted marshmallow from his fingertips before he continued.

"First, let's start with the facts. Our four-greats grandfather Charles was one of the first people to settle in this area. He had two daughters, Christiana and Evangeline, and two sons, Richard and Aloysius. His wife Ava died in childbirth with Aloysius, so he raised them alone," Fisher looked around to make sure his cousins and the girls were paying attention. He leaned back in his lawn chair. "Now, Christiana was the oldest and she ran away and married a banker when she was 15. Then Evangeline left to become a nun, so it was just Richard and Al. Charles died and left this farm to them. Richard got married and had a few kids and they built this house. Then there was a falling out between Richard and Al and Al moved out of the house and built a cabin on the other side of the property," Fisher motioned toward the woods behind the lake. "Aloysius died when his cabin burned down."

Luke shook his head. "But why is everyone so afraid of him?"

"Well, the facts are just part of the story," Fisher said, skewering another marshmallow. The kids fidgeted impatiently. "There are other rumors..."

"Like what?"

Fisher sucked the caramelized sugar from his teeth, drawing out the anticipation. He cleared his throat. "From the time Al was old enough to walk and talk, it seemed like he was... a bit... 'off'. Like, once when he was about 4 or 5, the family built a chicken coop and bought a few dozen baby chicks to raise for eggs and meat. The next morning, Charles went out to feed them, but every single chick was dead. They had all had their necks broken. It definitely wasn't an animal, because none were missing, and none had been chewed on," Fisher paused for effect.

"Wait. How did they know it was Al?" Danny asked.

"Well, they didn't know at first. Then one of the sisters found little yellow feathers in his bed while cleaning. He must have gotten back into bed covered with down from the chicks."

Fisher continued with a few more stories of Uncle Al as a child. One was about a time when he bit a teacher after having his knuckles smacked for falling asleep in class. Another was a rumor that he had knocked a neighbor girl into the lake and stole her ball, leaving the girl to drown.

The tiny hairs on Luke's neck stood up as the little girl with the ball flashed across his mind.

"Then when Al grew up, children from the town started disappearing. Some people thought it was Native Americans, angry that white men had taken the land and forced them out. Other people thought it might be coyotes snatching babies in the night," Fisher murmured in hushed tone. Luke and the others were spellbound. "But the parents of the missing kids suspected Al. The official town records say that Uncle Al died when an oil lamp fell over and burned down the cabin. But the legend says that the parents of the missing kids got together and nailed his doors and windows shut, then torched the cabin with him inside."

"What happened to the missing kids?" whispered Marie. Fisher shrugged.

"None of them were ever found. I think there were about 15 of them total." Fisher smirked. "Who knows? They might still be hanging around."