Second Story Man

Ray and Samuel threw their bags into the tent, then went back and half-dragged, half-carried Jason and his snacks in, too. "You promised us a second story," reminded Samuel. "Indeed," Eli replied, leaning over a fire and checking on the stew. It was the strangest thing, Samuel later remembered. None of us saw him build the fire or remember him bringing pots and pans, but he cooked us dinner and then we had s'mores while he drank black coffee. "I am the second story...
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Ray and Samuel threw their bags into the tent, then went back and half-dragged, half-carried Jason and his snacks in, too. "You promised us a second story," reminded Samuel. "Indeed," Eli replied, leaning over a fire and checking on the stew. It was the strangest thing, Samuel later remembered. None of us saw him build the fire or remember him bringing pots and pans, but he cooked us dinner and then we had s'mores while he drank black coffee. "I am the second story man." "What’s that?" asked Ray Ray, wondering how Eli had made supper so speedily. "A second story man is a burglar who comes into a house through the windows on the upper floor," Eli explained. "But I've been the second story man for a long time for another reason entirely." "Yeah," said Jason, revitalized by the prospect of food, "like you’re breaking into my imagination with your fairy tales.” "That's as good a definition as any." Eli rewarded the boy with the first bowl of stew. Jason dropped to the ground and began eagerly to blow it cool. "Now," Eli continued, " I thought that tonight I would also tell you my absolute favorite, about St. Christopher the Cenocephali…"