The Strange and Unusual Case of Lake Barton

3: The Feuersteins

Reggie opened his eyes. "Urgh."

Bright sunlight streamed through the windows. The sky was clear, for once. Reggie was still sprawled out on the windowsill-bench, in the back room of the El-Co. Using his rainjacket as a blanket and his briefcase as a pillow, Reggie had gone to sleep in his school uniform. He woke up with his navy blue tie in his mouth and his light blue button-up shirt practically backwards.

"Hrmph." Reggie sat up and spit out his tie. He yawned and stretched, yawned and stretched. He looked at his watch.

"Ten thirty?!!" Apparently it was going to be a late day for him.

He stood up, bleary-eyed, and walked into the front room. "Morning."

Nothing.

Reggie rubbed his eyes. The El-Co was empty and silent. The others must have gotten caught in the storm or something, and then it got dark, he assumed. He was about to go get his stuff when he remembered: Mr. Mendell had also been sleeping in the back room. He went back into the back room, but Mr. Mendell wasn't there. "Hmm."

Reggie swung his briefcase over his shoulder, groaning when he recalled how heavy it was. Only the third day of school, and he had textbooks as heavy as a horse. He carried his rainjacket under his arm as he walked out of the back room, through the front room, and out of the El-Co.

His jacket and bag were still wet. The late summer sun felt good and warm and nice and dry. Reggie smiled as he descended the hill, sliding down each ridge on his heel like he had been doing since he was four.

He walked across the road (there were no cars, as usual) and down the sidewalk. He reached the third house, his own. It had two stories. A covered porch with a screen ran around all four sides of the house. The house was painted a comforting shade of gray. Iris's house next to him was painted a bright and cheerful shade of yellow, with orange trim.

Reggie opened the screen door and stepped onto the porch. He closed and locked the screen door behind him. The door to the house itself was open. He went inside.

The lights were off in the front room. In the front of the room, there were couches on the left and right. Further back was a dining table, and on the right wall, a kitchen. In the middle of the room, toward the back, there was a staircase leading up to the second floor, built within an island-like clump of closets.

Reggie's mother was asleep at the table. A book, a pair of reading glasses, and her cell phone were all that were on the table next to her head.

"Mama!" Reggie called, running to her. He shook her awake. "Probudi se!" Wake up! he said in Croatian.

His mother opened her eyes and lifted her head off of the table. She had the same dark brown hair as Reggie, the same tan skin, the same icy blue eyes. She looked around for a moment, and when she spotted Reggie, a look of relief settled onto her face.

"Regulus!" she said, smiling wide and embracing her son. "I was worried sick!" she said in Croatian. "Did you get caught in the storm?"

Reggie nodded. "I stayed at the El-Co."

"Good, good." Reggie's mother smiled. "Because you know what happens when you're out at night?"

"The Night Snatcher gets you!" Reggie made a snatching motion with his hands. Every child in Lake Barton heard the story of the Night Snatcher. If you went out at night, the Night Snatcher would snatch you up, and you would never be seen again. In Reggie's case, his father had told him tales of an Elf King, who would lure children in with promises of fun, then snatch them up on his deer-skeleton steed! As far as anyone in Lake Barton could tell, the story seemed to be true.