They took him and I was powerless to stop them. The gnomes emerged from the long grass in the back garden with their red hats and ill intentions as he was playing on the swing I built for him on his 4th birthday and I was smoking a newport on the porch smiling. I knew that tiny door in the old tree stump out back was trouble the moment we bought the house. All I have left of my son now are the fingernails that fell off when he clawed at my perfectly trimmed lawn as they dragged him into their lair.