The day of his father's funeral, a man starts driving randomly between the end of the funeral and start of the post-funeral reception at his sister's house. He winds up in the neighborhood they lived in as kids, and specifically he winds up not where they house they lived in was, at the top of the lane, but at the end of the lane.
At the old farmhouse where Letty Hempstock lived.
And he starts remembering long-buried events of his childhood. That Letty always said that the quiet little pond near her house was in fact an ocean is the least surprising of those memories.
This is an utterly charming little story, terrifying in all the right places. The Hempstocks are a remarkable family, but the narrator, while young, naive, and lacking in sold knowledge of the fantastic, proves to have a strength of character unsuspected even by himself.
A very rewarding, quiet read. Recommended.
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