Gnome. United States

Today Dave Barsalou – solid American middle-aged, but he remembers an almost fairytale story that happened to him at the age of ten. Dave lived in new York with his parents, sister and grandmother.

That night was a thunderstorm, and the boy woke up from the thunder. He was alone in his bedroom. Suddenly the noise of the wind and the roar of heaven Dave heard some sounds. It was a moan or a howl, but he wasn't a human crying or whining animal. The boy was not myself. For some time he lay wrapped in a blanket, and then could not resist, got out of bed and padded in her grandmother's room which was closest. Dave quietly slipped to the grandmother under the blanket, he didn't want to Wake her. However, the woman was awake. Hugging her grandson, she hugged him and whispered:

- Are you scared?

- Grandma, what's that howling? – in turn asked the boy.

Is the howling wind, ' replied the woman.

- No, it's someone who's alive, - persisted Dave.

– Can't you hear?

- My dear, there's nobody there, - confidently said the grandmother. - Close your eyes and go to sleep.

Dave realized that she was no longer in a talking mood, and pretended to sleep. In fact, he keenly listened to the sounds coming from the street. Now the strange howl was already moving, moving like a living creature.

Around the house, he approached the wall, behind which was grandma's room, and so was not two feet away from the boy... Dave was lying, afraid to move, thinking about why his grandmother doesn't hear it. And suddenly he realized that she was just pretending – pretending to once more don't scare him...

After some time, the howling became quieter, the storm is also gradually calmed down. Dave fell asleep. When he awoke he saw the sunlight coming through the curtains. Grandmother was not in the room, and the boy went to look for her.

In the living room and the kitchen was empty, and Dave decided that the grandmother in the yard. Opening the door, he froze in amazement. Armed with a rag, the woman washed the porch from the dirty marks left by someone's tiny feet. It seemed that heritage newborn baby or a mechanical doll.

- What is it? – fear exclaimed Dave. – Grandma, what are you doing?

But then behind him he heard the voices of mother and sisters. Grandmother strictly pressed a finger to her lips and with a nod told the boy to enter the house while I continued cleaning.

So, in addition to her and Dave, no one saw the striking traces. Several times the boy tried to ask grandma about the night guest, but it or laughed it off or pretended not to understand his grandson.

Later Dave Barsalou learned that in the legends of the Indian tribes who lived in the Hudson valley (in what is now new York), often told about a young man who somehow were associated with storms and thunder...

Translated by «Yandex.Translator»