We left Monday afternoon, and didn't hear or see anything unusual over the weekend. But it reminds me of something that happened the first season after my parents bought our lot, almost 20 years ago. My buddy and I decided to go up there for a weekend and camp on it. The second night, we were startled awake by a blood-curdling scream that sounded more or less like a child being knifed to death. We never found out what it was, but it scared the you-know-what out of us. At times like that, I always imagine myself in my sleeping bag looking a lot like a big burrito.