Tell me a story; The albino cannibals of Los Gatos

The second story I have illustrated for my 'Tell me a story' project, is quite special. I'll bet not many (if any) of you know this legend.
It was send to me by Tommy Gleason (thank you so much Tommy!), who grew up in the area and remembered the story his uncle used to tell him when he was a kid.
It was such a delight to work on this drawing, though I have to admit it was quite the task....

I will not say more, just read the story for yourself. It is absolutely fantastic!

NOTE: would you also like to see your story get illustrated? please check out my previous blog post here and read the guidelines.

(click picture for bigger view)

Story Title: The albino cannibals of Los Gatos

Submitted by: Tommy Gleason
Country: Rough & Ready (US)

I grew up in a town called Los Gatos. It used to be called Forbes Mill, but with all the cats in the hills (mountain lions) loudly meowling all the time, our earlier locals decided to give it that quaint Spanish name. Anyways, on the main road exiting town there's a spot where two statues are set to the entrance to a side road. We used to drive by there all the time. These two tall cats, twice as tall as any man, seem to guard this dark road up into the overgrown hills.

"What's up there?" I once asked my uncle Charlie. "Oh, you don't want to go up there!" said he, suddenly turning and looking at me with wide-set eyes, a look of genuine fear on his face. At once he had my full attention, my ears listening intently. "Why?" said I, "What's up there?" "Well..." said he, "you can go up for quite a ways... At first it's sunny and bright, not too many trees." He seemed to wander off, quiet now, thinking... "So," said I, "what's wrong with that?" "What's wrong with that!?!," he said, "If they catch you, they'll EAT you!!"

I then wondered just what it could be that he was talking about. "But the bears... They're gone! And the mountain lions aren't really around any more, are they?" said I. "Oh, it's not the cats or the bears that'll get ya," said uncle C, it's THEM!!"

But who's "them?" said I, now starting to wonder if perhaps he was just pulling one on me. Uncle Charlie slowly looked me over, evidently seeing the scam I was beginning to consider. "The people up there..." he said in a hushed whisper... they're... they're strange. Something wrong with them." I leaned in closer, not wanting to miss a word. Uncle Charlie knew how to play this 9 year-old kid. "What's wrong with them?" said I. "They usually only come out at night," said he, "but if you get into a real shady area under those trees, they'll come out to get ya!" My eyes widening, I stared at him expectantly. "They're all white, with pink eyes," he said. "They're really, really tall too. They're called 'Albinos,' and they love the dark. They'll sneak up quietly on you, and if they catch you, they'll drag you away to a feast with all the other Albinos."
Still I said not a word, my thoughts now full of horrid imaginings of what might happen to me... "At the feast they prepare a big pile of sticks and leaves," said uncle Charlie, "and they'll drag you to it and put you up on it, all tied up. You can't get away, there's too many of them, and they're always looking at you with their hungry pink eyes!" I shivered inside. Something made me look back out the rear window at the gathering darkness, wondering if they'd come out to get me. Uncle C must've known what I was thinking too, because then he said "Yes, and if you play outside too late, and it gets dark, you might not see them coming... They'll catch you. They'll drag you away up into them dark hills... It doesn't matter how hard you scream, nobody, but nobody DARES to come out to face them. Then they'll stack up their wood, drag you up and tie you to it, and light up their bonfire. They'll cook you alive. And then it's probably good that you're dead, because just before they eat you, their pink eyes open wide, and they start singing...

'Blooody Bones, Bloody Bones, I'm gonna eat me some BLOOOODY BONES!!!!'"

Uncle Charlie had woven his words well. I now filled in all the blanks to my wonderings with a curdling fear, knowing that if I didn't get inside before dark, there would be more than simply the boogieman to contend with.

I grew up with that, the telling and the re-telling of the Albinos. The questioning of where else they might live. The look of fear when I heard something unexpected in the dark outside.....

Tommy was so kind to give me some links to other websites and pictures he had found on the internet. Apparently he wasn't the only one who grew up with this tale.

Another legend told about this place: Link
Some History: Link
Pictures: Link