Ring And Run

Many many years ago. Late Summer. Early evening. My brother and I are bored. The idea comes up - let's ring the doorbell across the street and run. One of those weird Traditions of being a kid. Do kids even do that these days?

The plan is developed: I'll creep over and sneak onto their porch and poke the doorbell. My brother will stand at our door and be ready to let me in. We'll slam the door and watch the prank unfold through the tiny window in the door....safely from our house.

The target: a sweet older couple across the street. But too sweet. Like Devil Worshippers sweet.

I approach the house from the side, slink across the lawn, and crawl up the steps like a grounded sloth. Crouching, then slowly rising, I reach up to stab the doorbell with my finger. Poke.

Running for my life to reach my house, I can only pray the neighbor hasn't looked out their window before answering the door. I hit my front porch and grab the handle of the screen door: Locked. Pulling and pulling because it has to be a mistake. A miscalculation. And a horrible one. The porch light across the street flicks on. My head is completely twisted around watching the horror as my hands are going insane trying to get the door open.

Locked.

I see my brother looking out of the small window of our large wooden door [locked as well no doubt]. Pure panic. The door across the street opens, as OUR porch light starts flicking on and off to draw attention, my brother at the helm. Instinct forces me into the tall bushes next to our front door. Late Summer and it's loaded with bugs and webs. And now me.

Our porch light is flicking on and off and I swear I can hear my brother through the two locked doors - laughing. The neighbor across the street is actually walking down his front walk at this point. Drawn to the flicking light across the street most likely. Heading right for me.

Maybe my brother had a change of heart, because the porch light stopped flashing. And maybe the Universe had a change of heart, because the neighbor stopped and slowly turned to go back to his house. You think about those things when you're trapped like a rat.

Image by jekemp.