The Smile

     There once was an old man who lived in a small house at the end of a small street in a small town. All the children knew he was crazy, and the adults whispered that he was a pedophile. No one knew for sure because the man kept to himself. In fact, the only time the townsfolk ever saw him was when he would shuffle down the main street in his old brown suit and fedora. It was at these times that the few citizens who had lived too long to be prejudiced would remark how distinguished he looked in his pleated pants and hand-shined shoes. Always on his trip he would turn between the old general store and the gas station and head down the small dirt path that lead back into the woods. The children knew he went there to count his buried teasure and the adults speculated that he might bury the bones of his victims there.
     This ritual continued for several generations until one enterprising young man decided to find out just what all the fuss was about. Isaac, a skinny 10-year-old with glasses too big for his father's head and a perpetual runny nose, hid just in the door of the gas station. As the man shuffled by, he stole out of the shop and fell in silently behind, catching the faint aroma of musky aftershave. They traveled about a quarter of a mile into the forest until the man reached a tiny brook and sat down on a nearby log. He took his hat off and looked up into the trees. Isaac took a few quick steps to get a better look at his face and the old man caught sight of him.

     "Come over here, son", he said, and Isaac dutifully obeyed. Once the boy was seated, the man looked back up into the trees.
     Isaac asked, "what are you looking for out here, mister?"
     The man looked at Isaac and said, "I once knew a very beautiful young lady. She had the brightest, most beautiful smile I have ever seen."
     Isaac, perplexed, reponded, "So is she up in the trees?"
     The man chuckled and looked back up.