Summer nights were always my favorite. I loved the freedom of the open windows and the gentle breeze that would set my curtains a flutter. The flickering sounds of crickets would rise and fall hidden within the still of night. The moon would rest ever so softly on the very tips of the maple leaves that stood tall just outside my bedroom window. Closing my diary and tuning in the radio instead I fell backwards onto my bed. "Summer loving" rang out of the speakers mid-song and I rushed to silence it. It was late and my parents were sleeping in the room over. Frozen I stood there with my hand on the dial listening hard.
Smiling now in relief I turned it up just a bit and fell back once again against my pillow. The moon granted a soft light about my room and my wondering thoughts made it hard to sleep. Sam and I had a secret love of oldies. Often we would play her dad’s old record player and sit back and listen to its scratchy message. They were always tales of love and we would daydream about boys to it. Tonight was no different for me.
A thud sounded from my window. I rolled my eyes imagining the family of raccoons knocking over the trash cans again. Now more and more thuds one after the other seemed to graze my window. The thought of the trash being sifted through and tossed all over the driveway tugged at me. “Great, guess I'll be picking that up in the morning” I thought to myself. The more the commotion grew the angrier I became at the thought of handling meat wrappers and rotten milk containers. Storming off the bed I pulled my nightshirt down and headed to the window to growl at them.
Ripping open the blinds I glared down at the trash cans still standing neatly against the garage. Confused, I pushed the front pieces of hair out of my eyes.
Another thump and finally I realized it was a rock at my window. Kneeling down quickly to hide; I smoothed my hair. No way. Could someone be throwing rocks at my window? Romantic thoughts past through my mind as I slid up enough to peek out.
A light flickered and fled all around the backyard. Up and down and all around the fence, the car, and trees it trailed. Then finally it stood still. In spotlight form a butt illuminated out of the dark night. Giggles and scuffling began and the flickering of the light began again. One butt, no two, no three! They were all passing the flashlight back and forth laughing hard. Stumbling against my desk I hurried to Kathy's room knowing she was still awake.
"You've Got to come see this" I pleaded practically dancing. "What? It's late, what are you doing up?" she asked as if annoyed. "Hurry!" I urged laughing. Curious, she slid her book marker in to save her page and set it face down. The creak of her daybed sent her off to my room.
Hurrying ahead of her I pulled back the curtain and raised my hand to the display out in our backyard. Leaning over me, a head taller than I she let out a laugh then quickly covered her mouth to mute herself. With the other hand she flicked on the desk lamp and one of the flashlights dropped to the ground. Realizing that they had been busted they stumbled and tripped over their pant legs and bushes. Like the three stooges they desperately tried to gather their things and flee. It was almost painful trying to muffle our laughter now. "Whose butts do you think those are?" I whispered. "I don't know but who got the last laugh?" she held her hand up for a high five.
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