Out beyond the fields behind the elementary school, there were seasonally transitory ponds that attracted various wildlife, such as ducks and frogs. This is where the fanged ones lived. We never went out there; the farthest we’d go was the edge of the ball diamond, where the adults would put up markers to let us know where the outfield ended and what counted in tee ball as a home run.
Dominick, my friend, told us that his older sister had gone out there once, and the fanged ones had gotten her and eaten off her hands and feet, and now she was stuck at home. That’s why none of us could ever visit Dominick at home, because his parents didn’t want to make a spectacle of their poor disfigured daughter.
I acted like I was too cool to believe such a ridiculous story, but I always had a believable explanation at hand as to why I couldn’t go any farther than the edge of the ball diamond, especially not in October, when the wind got cold and the night came just a little bit too early.
— ptkh 04.24.10