“No, no,” said the old man, shaking his head. “It’s just an odd place to go to for Christmas, that’s all.”
“Why’s that?” asked Jason, leaning forward. “Is it because of the legend of the Werewolf?” he laughed and Richard joined in, enthusiastically.
The old man looked shocked at the boys’ frivolity. He rubbed his chin with the palm of his hand, and the calluses on the inside of his knuckles made an audible sound against his stubble. “Now listen here, young gentlemen. There are some things that people around here don’t joke about.”
The boys stopped laughing, feeling properly admonished.
Terri looked up from her chocolate bar, still chewing. “Do people around here really believe that old legend?” she asked through broken chocolate and caramel, wiping her mouth when she felt a sudden tric
