Fishing rods in hand, Paul and Tom ran down the just rained upon road, breathing in the sweet smell of warm tar that a fresh morning summer shower always brings; they went to catch tonight's dinner.

They ran down the middle of the road, past their neighbor's houses, waving and shouting hellos to those that were out doing lawn work, picking up the newspaper, or putting out the trash. Into town they went onto the sidewalk and jogged slower, passing the many shops.

Woods' Hardware; Zelinski's Deli; Baker's Barber Shop, not yet open; Woolworth's -- the sign still reading Five and Dime; Lady's Apparel, which they looked at with frowns; Bert's Sporting Goods, where they paused for a little window shopping; the fire station, where Bob, Sam and Cook were always sitting out front; Daily's News Store, "Just the right name for a newsstand," he always told the boys.

After running for a whole mile they neared the edge of town and turned down a winding path that led into the town forest. Over the hill and through the valley they quickly came to the lake; running around logs and rocks, sneakers slipping on moss and dew in the shadows from the large boulders, twice their height, they came to their spot. Their own secret spot where the best fish lay in wait.

They dropped their gear by their sitting stone, flat like a bench, and they went round behind the boulders. (They had found their secret fishing hole when they had first climbed these boulders and saw the fish swimming in the sparkling green waters below.) They knelt in the soft earth, digging with sticks where they always caught the biggest and tastiest worms; tastiest to the fish that is.

"These are the best yet," Paul said as he pulled out a worm six inches long and thin as yarn; the thinnest were the very best.

"You betcha," his brother said, bringing forth another just as long and skinny.

With just those two worms they would get their dinner. The fish always bit their worms, always.

Back on their sitting stone they pulled off their sneakers and socks, letting their feet splash in the cool water.

Paul laid out the gear and took out two of their best hooks, Winslow number eights, and two homemade cork bobbers made of their dad's best wine corks, guaranteed to not be noticed by any fish.

Tom cut the worms with his dad's old pocket knife, the one that he had used when he was a boy fishing at his own secret fishing spot.

Hooks baited, they cast them out each to their own favorite part of the water. All there was to do now was sit back and wait.

Two minutes of talking about the fair that's coming in July just five weeks away. Nothing yet, but it was still early.

Five minutes of silence and Tom re-cast.

Ten minutes and they both re-cast with new worm.

Nothing.

"What's gotten into these fish today," Tom sighed.

"New worm," Paul said and he was off and back in a second with another, this time one fat and long.

"Maybe the fish got a new taste," he said, re-worming his hook.

"Think I'll try the new lure," Paul said. "Mr. Woods said this was guaranteed to catch the plumpest of trout."

He put on the lure and began casting and Tom set out his line again.

Another two minutes and Tom decided to climb the boulders to try and get a peek at the fish. He scrambled up a crack between the rocks and perched himself on the outermost point to get a good view of the water; seeing the sun cascading through the trees and sparkling off the water's surface and reaching the murky green of the bottom; but not a fish could be seen.

"There's something wrong," Tom said. "This'll be the first time that there isn't a fish to be seen."

"Strange as can be," Paul said. "Something is wrong, something...." He paused, peering into the air and all about as if smelling something.

"Something," Tom said, standing up on the boulder; himself looking around. "Something... in the air." He jumped down by his brother, getting down close to the earth. "Something in the ground." He stood quick. "Something around that's scaring the fish to hide." He looked at Paul. Paul looked at him.

"I can feel it too," Paul said, staring up at the imagined darkening of the sky and tall winds blowing; but there was something different, there was something out there. Maybe in the air, maybe in the ground, or maybe even all around, but it, that something, was there.

"I can hear it," Tom said. "I mean I can't hear it. There's not a sound around."

"Yeah," Paul added. "Just like in a scary movie. No sound at all but for the wind." They both pricked their ears to the woods.

"And gurgling water," Tom said. "But there's no animal sounds."

"No birds," said Paul.

They both agreed with their eyes and they gathered up their fishing gear and started half running, half walking back toward home.

"What could it be?" Paul asked.

"Gosh, I don't know." Tom stopped. Paul took a few more steps and turned around.

"What is it?" he asked.

"It's here. Nearby."

"You sure?" Paul asked. "Which way?" Tom always was more sensitive than he.

"This way," Tom said, and he climbed up a hill to their left, Paul following close behind. They made it over the top and ran down the steep other side and they froze.

There it was before them. Like a fog it seemed, or a small cloud, a patch of mist, round as round could be, there in a clearing a hundred feet away. They moved closer, circling about. When they were fifty feet away they noticed that it was not all round, but flat round; a foot thick and ten feet high. It was milky white and it shimmered and seemed to waver like when your looking out a window into ninety-eight degree heat.

One look at each other and they dropped their gear and ran, running faster than they ever did before. They jumped down the hill, jumping farther than ever and they ran all the way home, not stopping for the hellos and good mornings of the neighbors. They ran all the way to the inside of their house.

"Dad! Dad!" they both shouted, slipping on the rug in the hall. "Dad, there's something out there!"

"Whoa! Slow down," Mr. Wellis told them as they slid to a stop by the kitchen table where their father was finishing his breakfast.

"But dad, there's something out there."

"And it's weird."

"Yeah, scary even."

"And it's big and...."

"Now just hold on," their father said a little louder, looking them over the top of his glasses, folding the paper. The boys shook with wait to tell their story.

"You look shaken boys. What happened? Seeing UFO's again?"

"No dad, it's a fog that's the shape of a round thing in the woods by the lake," Tom said so fast.

"It's real scary dad," Paul added. "It's real big and shaped like a plate and it glows."

"It doesn't glow, it wiggles," Tom said.

"Now let me get this straight," dad said. "In the woods is a fog that wiggles and is shaped like a big plate? If this is some story to cover something that you did...."

"It's true dad," Tom said. "It doesn't really wiggle, it...," he couldn't think of a word to describe it.

"It glows," Paul added. Tom and his father glanced briefly at Paul's smile.

"You gotta see it dad. We aren't lying. It's there. It's really weird. You have to see it."

"No time for more coffee?" dad asked.

"No time for anything dad," Tom went on. "You gotta go now or it may be gone. You just gotta see it."

Mr. Wellis realized that there was no way out, although his curiosity had risen and he wanted to see what it was that could have shaken the boys up so.

Outside, with dad asking them to walk slower, and the boys asking him to walk faster, they headed toward the forest.

"It might be gone," they kept saying. "You do want to see it don't you?"

"Of course."

Halfway toward the forest they passed one of their neighbors raking his lawn. "Morning John," he said. "Fine day for a stroll isn't it?"

"Sure is Ed," Mr. Wellis answered. "Going to the town forest for a little investigating."

"There's a really weird fog out there, Mr. Talow," Tom said, walking back a bit to where his father had stopped.

"That so?"

"Sure is," Tom went on. "It's real strange and everything. You'll have to see it to believe it."

"Sounds like one heck of a story, doesn't it Ed?" their father said.

"There must be some truth to it though I'm willing to bet," Mr. Talow said, leaning on his rake. "Can see it in their faces. How about if I come along to see for myself?"

"You're more than welcome."

After a moment, and when the boys had gotten further ahead, Mr. Baker, the barber, had come from his shop to meet them. "Morning John, Ed," he said. "Your boys were just here John. Talking about some nonsense in the forest. My boy's gone ahead with them. Said you'd be along."

"We're going to investigate it Harry," Mr. Wellis said.

"Why don't you come along Harry?" Ed Talow asked. "Nice day for a stroll."

"Sure. I will. Not much business in the morning."

The three of them neared the road leading to the forest when they met a group of people joining them from across the street. Mr. Johnston, the owner of the Five and Dime, was at the front.

"You've heard?" Mr. Wellis asked as they came over.

"Those boys came into the store a'shouting about some strange thing in the forest," Mr. Johnston said.

"They said you'd be heading an investigation to find out what it is," said young Jack Strohe, the Deputy Sheriff. "Don't you think that's for the Sheriff to do?"

"Well this isn't exactly an official investigation," Mr. Wellis said, "but why don't you go get Sheriff Bemis."

"Why... why, I think I'll just do that," the Deputy said.

"They're getting the Sheriff," said an elderly man to his wife at the edge of the crowd. "Do you hear that, Mary Beth? They're getting the Sheriff."

"Well, let's get going," said Mr. Johnston. "Whatever it is, it'll be the most exciting thing that's happened here since I can remember."

The boys were waiting by the path to the lake as the group turned down the road to the forest. The boys shouted for them to hurry and they went off into the trees.

When Mr. Wellis and party entered the forest the boys had climbed up the hill and were shouting for them to hurry.

"It's still here. Hurry!"

They were climbing the slope.

"What's keepin' you? Hurry!"

They came up over the top and stopped short for a bit and then slowly walked over to the boys, a few yards away from the glowing object.

"Well I'll be..." Mr. Johnston said wiping his brow.

"Will you look at that!" someone added.

There was a quiet minute as the men took a few steps around, peering closer.

"Boys," Mr. Wellis said. "You sure have found something this time."

Like a fire through a dry field the news spread through town from one end to the other. More people went out to see it. Every boy in town, and some of the girls, was there.

"What in blazes can it be?" Sheriff Bemis asked.

"I don't know," Mr. Wellis answered. "Strangest thing.... I've never heard of anything like it."

Paul and Tom were closest to it, in head of the group of kids, beaming that they were the ones who found it. Tom moved closer, extending a hand.

"Don't touch it," his dad said. Paul pulled his brother back.

"Think it could be dangerous?" the Sheriff asked.

"Your guess is as good as mine, but we'd best be careful."

"We've got to find out what it is," Judge Fogerty said. "Call in someone. Some scientists or something."

"Now how are you gonna do that, Judge," the Sheriff said. "You gonna look up 'scientist' in the phone book?"

"Well how 'bout the Army, or Marines," the Judge went on.

"Louis Pratman was a Marine," someone said.

"Now let's not get carried away," Mr. Wellis said, looking around. "Ed. Hand me that stick." Ed Talow picked up a long stick and brought it to him.

"What are you gonna do?"

"Let's see what it's made of," Mr. Wellis said walking up to it. He waved the stick back and forth through the edge. "Well it's not a mist. It's like... like just some light or...."

"Hey, wait," Paul said moving in close to the opposite side. "The stick doesn't come out," he said pointing.

Everyone moved to the other side as his dad pushed the stick in far and saw that there was no stick coming out of the back.

"Well, I'll be...."

"Now that's just plumb weird."

"Darndest thing I ever saw."

Mr. Wellis stepped back, looking closely at the stick; Ed Talow by his shoulder.

"Don't look like it affected the stick any," Ed said.

"No, it hasn't," John said.

"Probably safe to touch it," Paul said.

"Let's not take any chances son," Mr. Wellis said.

"John, let me have that stick." Ed took it and tossed it into the middle of it, some of the boys moved quickly to the other side to see. The stick did not come out.

"Wow," one of the boys said. "That's neat."

"It's like a passage into another dimension."

"Just like on Star Trek last night."

"It must go somewhere."

"It certainly does go somewhere," Mr. Wellis said.

"I know where it goes," Tom said. Everyone turned. "The Twilight Zone."

There was laughter among the other boys.

"Let's go inside it," Paul said moving close.

"Now, just hold on," his father told him. "We don't want to do anything rash. We've got to think about this for a minute."

"We've got to organize and...."

"We'll make a search group."

"A breach party."

"Yeah...."

"I've got rope at my store," Mr. Woods, the hardware store owner said. "We'll tie ourselves together and go inside."

"Now just hold on," Mr. Wellis said. "We don't...."

"Look it," little Joey Woods said. He had moved close to it and had his hand inside. "Look it."

"Joey! Get away from there!" His father pulled him back and grabbed his hand.

"I'm aw right," little Joey said. "See," he held up his arm.

"We can go inside," someone said and reached in. "Hey it's all right. Look!"

"Come on, men," Mr. Woods said. "Let's go get my rope."

Mr. Wellis realized that there was no stopping them and he just watched as the many men quickly moved back toward town.

"What do you think it is, dad?" Paul and Tom asked.

"It seems to be a door of some kind."

"A door to where?" Tom asked.

"I don't know, son. I don't know."

The townsfolk were quickly back carrying many goods beside rope; tools and backpacks and guns.

"Now Bert, let's not get carried away."

"Stand back, John," Bert said tieing the rope about his waist. "We're going in there. This may be a way into new lands, new places."

"Yes, but...."

"And if there's any riches in there we'll be the first to get 'em."

"And if there's any beasts..." Mr. Woods said holding a shotgun aloft.

Mr. Wellis could just shake is head and stand back from the men standing among all their gear while they tied themselves together.

"Hey! Why are you in the front, Bert?" someone asked.

"Yeah. How bout it?"

"Because it's my rope, that's why."

"But I've been a mountain climber for many years, Bert," Mr. Johnston said. "I've got experience. I should take the lead."

"And I've had twenty years in the Army," Joe Fenton said.

"And I'm the Sheriff," the Sheriff said.

"It's my rope!" Bert pulled the rope, Mr. Johnston fell, and then the men were all shouting and wrestling. Mr. Wellis shouted for them to stop but he wasn't heeded. It was the small voice of little Joey that made them stop and all become aghast with silence.

"Look it," he said pointing. "Look it."

Mr. Wellis held his boys at his sides and they stared at now empty space--the glowing object had disappeared. A woman gasped, a girl chuckled. The men, after a moment of silence, began arguing all over again.

"Okay, boys," Mr. Wellis said to his sons. "Time to go home." They left the men of the breach party still arguing.

"We sure found something, didn't we dad," Tom said.

"The biggest thing yet," he answered.

"Think it'll be back?"

"Let's hope, for their sake," he said indicating the men they left behind, "that it doesn't."