The Gallows and the Fire Rocks

Debby gallo, 11 years old with dark hair and hazel eyes, wasn't sure what to believe about the fire rocks. Her father was a welder, a son of italian emigrants and a corean veteran who walked with a limp from the shrapnel that had carved up one of his knees. She could be on the playground almost before the front door slammed behind skipping across the street to the open lot. The older boys told fantastic tales of rocks at the playground that burst in into flames that spontaneously combusted. But for them, the land was perfect, the vacant lot to end all lots, a place filled with possibility and maybe even magic.