The Legend of Archibal

Jacobi hoped up on the table to take a closer look at the boy who could see him. He giggled at the thought of it. “Well I be darned,” he said. “The only humans that can see us are those that possess the third eye.”

“The third eye?” Walter was befuddled. “What is the third eye?”

“It is what you have, my dear boy,” Jacobi smiled warmly. “The third eye provides perception beyond the ordinary sight. You see beyond what ordinary people can see. Only a few have it and I have probably come across three with that ability, including you child.”

“If I do have the third eye? Why would I not know that?”

“You were born with it. You probably were never aware of it,” Jacobi said. “Mostly likely someone in your family had it. It transcends through family lineage. Most people don’t have it until years later. You must have a wizard or a witch in your family. As you can see, I am as real as you are.”

“My father told me brownies existed,” Walter said. “And so did my friend, Alden. I-I don’t think I know of a witch or wizard in my family. I would know wouldn’t I?”

“Of course you would,” Jacobi said cheerfully. “That would be hard to miss. Most are very eccentric people. I know a few myself.”

Walter was bewildered. Then he must know the witch that lives in the shanty that Alden talks about. “How was the buttermilk and pastries?”

“They were delicious. I–” before Jacobi could finish his mother entered the kitchen with a candle lit in her hand.

“Walter,” she mumbled. “What are you doing up?”

Walter turned to see if Jacobi was still there but he was gone. He turned back to his mother. “I got thirsty and I came to get a glass of buttermilk.”

“Did you get it?”

“Yes, mother,”

“Then off to bed you go. Who were you talking to?”

“No one, I was, I was just thinking out loud,” Walter fumbled for words.

“Then go to bed, it is late,” she said angrily.

“Yes, mother,” Walter complied.