“We’d half ‘spected to find him hidin’ behind that old half dead tree,” Old Seph interrupted himself, “even back than it was only half dead,” then continued, “readying to jump out and scare the poop out of us.”

He folded his big hands in his lap and looked down at them, then back to us, “But, we were wrong.” Old Seph had a way of taking long pauses at just the right moment. No matter how many times you heard the story and though you knew what happened next, you couldn’t help but move in a little closer.

Old Seph pushed himself up to lean on his knees so that he could look each of us in the eye as he told us of the run in with the troll. “Now boys, mind you, I weren’t never afraid of nothing when I was your age, still ain’t, but the look on Dusty’s face struck a cord so close to fear that I don’t care to ever have that feeling wash over me in all the days I have left before I go on to Glory.”

Seph’s introduction always sent shivers down my spine. To imagine this man feeling that close to fear.