Every afternoon during the long summer months, neighborhood kids run along sandy paths to the beach without adult supervision. The older ones get bossy and make up games, mostly ones that involve lots of running and splashing in the shallows. There is one Adult Rule: No swimming without supervision, and though occasionally a rebellious type dares to wade up to their knees, no one pushes it further than that.
One afternoon, a sudden squall swept in from out at sea, and the kids huddled in a driftwood fort they'd built. The oldest of them leaned into a conspiratorial whisper. "Do you know why we can't go swimming?" The younger ones' eyes went wide, and they shook their heads from side to side.
"A monster lives in the deep waters. They have horns and claws, and they want to eat you."
Every child had a vision of this Monster, and they huddled together, whisper sharing details and experiences. After the storm moved on, they returned to their homes to sit at family dining room tables for dinner.
In those days, families had proper dining room tables. Only lazy families ate in the living room while watching TV, and basements were for laundry, tools, and sometimes a small room of secrets.
Families with basement secrets spoke a special language, and when the kids ran to the beach, huddled in their driftwood fort to…
