Damn thing got harder to write, the farther along I got. How sharper than a serpent’s tooth is an ungrateful short story.
You’re probably wondering why your parents didn’t just go over the fence themselves. Then, or any time until you finally got yourself tied to the rope so you could be hauled over the side. They kept acting like they were about to, but they never quite committed. Not an adult did a thing to help.
How did that feel, Andy? — Yeah, I know it’s you. It’s been, what, forty years, but I remember the look in your eyes when you were safe on this side of the fence. Well, safer, because you still got that look. You never really believed you were out of danger, and I’m figuring you’re tired of feeling that way, right?
There wasn’t any fuss about what happened to you, although I guess you knew that already. Your family left town, your dad making threats and your mom keeping thoughtful and quiet, but nothing else ever happened. On the other hand, at least every kid in town since then got the message: some haunted houses you stay the hell away from, because if you get stuck in one, nobody’s coming to save you.
Oh, put away the damn gun, Andy. Of course we’re going to the Place. I knew that as soon as you knocked on the door.
Just read the whole thing.
That was good. Really good.