The Creature Under the Trailer
Written by David M. Muench
Ah, summer. The gentle kiss of summer's sun - yeah, right - more like the fiery tongue scorching the dry, cracked Oklahoma earth. Summer days are best for swimming, working on your sunburn, and lazing indoors while sipping iced tea in front of the comforting glow of the television with the air conditioning on "Arctic." Summer nights, however, are filled with catching fireflies, taking long walks, and scaring small children.
August, 2001. It was to be a week of fun in the (blazing) sun at the lake home of Julie and Leath; my sister and brother-in-law. And by "home" I mean trailer, at a private trailer park. It's a nearly new trailer, with all of the amenities. TV, DVD player, stereo, recliners, sleeper sofa, refrigerator, air conditioning - the works. We're talkin' the 'burbs version of "camping out." My nephew and niece - Bryan and Meaghan - were there as well.
It was an ideal week: During the day we were boating out to the beach, frolicking in the water; and by night we sat on the covered porch listening to chirrups and hoots of the nocturnal creatures; playing card or dice games. Boredom got the best of my sister and I, so we fabricated a "ghost story" to entertain ourselves and to unnerve our skittish 13-year-old nephew. Meaghan, 11, seemed rather apathetic with this whole "ghost" business.
Bryan and I slept in the two beds in the back bedroom that faced the wooded area. As he lay in the bed closest to the window, I surreptitiously scratched the wall, and lightly rapped my knuckle against the faux wood paneling as I feigned sleep. I could hear him shifting restlessly in bed, and it was all I could do to suppress a laugh.
The next morning Bryan's bed was empty. It seems he heard "strange noises" coming from outside and he promptly sprinted to the living room and slept in one of the recliners. "Hmm," I muttered curiously. "I wonder if it had anything to do with that ghost."
That night my sister and I conspired together - we could do more damage that way. She and I set out to walk her dogs, which was something we were going to do anyway. Bryan and Meaghan were left alone in the trailer playing with their toys and watching television. Upon returning I raced around to the back of the trailer with a few pieces of gravel in hand and tossed them on the roof.
Then Julie and I pretended to be "running from something" as we crashed into the door breathlessly, slamming and locking it behind us. I peered wide-eyed out the small window in the door, scanning the inky night for a nonexistent threat. Curious, Bryan and Meaghan asked what was wrong. My sister and I glanced nervously at each other and said shakily, "nothing." We were evil, I know. Julie and I then grabbed the flashlight and reluctantly stated that "we saw something out there," and coaxed Bryan and Meaghan to join us.
Once outside, I splashed the flashlight's beam across the ground in an erratic, haphazard manner. I aimed the beam around the trailer's skirting and muttered, "I think there's something in there." While smiling to myself I heard a distinct "thump" against the skirting. I furrowed my brows in a perplexed look and thought "damn, I'm starting to freak myself out now." In a hushed voice I inquired, "Did you hear that?" A couple grunts of acknowledgement.
Shining the flashlight in the area where I heard the noise, I began to wonder if I really did want to find out what bumped against the trailer skirting. That's when it happened. Without warning - some hideous, fanged creature leapt into the flashlight's beam capturing it's abominable horns, glaring eyes and long, clawed legs. I let out a gasp and jerked back, knowing I was in imminent danger of becoming frog food.
Yes, it was a small frog about the size of my thumb. No claws, horns, or fangs. But I just know that thing was glaring at me. Feeling foolish, I chuckled and tried to regain my aloof masculinity while my heart was still doing aerobics. Our devious "scare tactic" backfired, with me as the hapless victim.
The remaining days at the lake I dispensed with the talk of ghosts and goblins, and instead enjoyed the languid days sharing laughs and recreation with Bryan and Meaghan. You know, it's amazing how a brush with death can put things into perspective and make you appreciate life.
Even if that "brush" was just a small frog.
Saturday, May 01, 2004
The Creature Under the Trailer
The Creature Under the Trailer
Written by David M. Muench
Ah, summer. The gentle kiss of summer's sun - yeah, right - more like the fiery tongue scorching the dry, cracked Oklahoma earth. Summer days are best for swimming, working on your sunburn, and lazing indoors while sipping iced tea in front of the comforting glow of the television with the air conditioning set to "Arctic." Summer nights, however, are filled with catching fireflies, taking long walks, aaand scaring small children.
August, 2001. It was to be a week of fun in the (blazing) sun at the lake home of Julie and Leath; my sister and brother-in-law. And by "home" I mean trailer, at a private trailer park. It's a nearly new trailer, with all of the amenities. TV, DVD player, stereo, recliners, sleeper sofa, refrigerator, air conditioning - the works. We're talkin' the 'burbs version of "camping out." My nephew and niece - Bryan and Meaghan - were there as well.
It was an ideal week: During the day we were boating out to the beach, frolicking in the water; and by night we sat on the covered porch listening to chirrups and hoots of the nocturnal creatures; playing card or dice games. Boredom got the best of my sister and I, so we fabricated a "ghost story" to entertain ourselves and to unnerve our skittish 13-year-old nephew. Meaghan, 11, seemed rather apathetic with this whole "ghost" business.
Bryan and I slept in the two beds in the back bedroom that faced the wooded area. As he lay in the bed closest to the window, I surreptitiously scratched the wall, and lightly rapped my knuckle against the faux wood paneling as I feigned sleep. I could hear him shifting restlessly in bed, and it was all I could do to suppress a laugh.
The next morning Bryan's bed was empty. It seems he heard "strange noises" coming from outside and he promptly sprinted to the living room and slept in one of the recliners. "Hmm," I muttered curiously. "I wonder if it had anything to do with that ghost."
That night my sister and I conspired together - we could do more damage that way. She and I set out to walk her dogs, which was something we were going to do anyway. Bryan and Meaghan were left alone in the trailer playing with their toys and watching television. Upon returning I raced around to the back of the trailer with a few pieces of gravel in hand and tossed them on the roof.
Then Julie and I pretended to be "running from something" as we crashed into the door breathlessly, slamming and locking it behind us. I peered wide-eyed out the small window in the door, scanning the inky night for a nonexistent threat. Curious, Bryan and Meaghan asked what was wrong. My sister and I glanced nervously at each other and said shakily, "nothing." We were evil, I know. Julie and I then grabbed the flashlight and reluctantly stated that "we saw something out there," and coaxed Bryan and Meaghan to join us.
Once outside, I splashed the flashlight's beam across the ground in an erratic, haphazard manner. I aimed the beam around the trailer's skirting and muttered, "I think there's something in there." While smiling to myself I heard a distinct "thump" against the skirting. I furrowed my brows in a perplexed look and thought "damn, I'm starting to freak myself out now." In a hushed voice I inquired, "Did you hear that?" A couple grunts of acknowledgement.
Shining the flashlight in the area where I heard the noise, I began to wonder if I really did want to find out what bumped against the trailer skirting. That's when it happened. Without warning - some hideous, fanged creature leapt into the flashlight's beam capturing it's abominable horns, glaring eyes and long, clawed legs. I let out a gasp and jerked back, knowing I was in imminent danger of becoming frog food.
Yes, it was a small frog about the size of my thumb. No claws, horns, or fangs. But I just know that thing was glaring at me. Feeling foolish, I chuckled and tried to regain my aloof masculinity while my heart was still doing aerobics. Our devious "scare tactic" backfired, with me as the hapless victim.
The remaining days at the lake I dispensed with the talk of ghosts and goblins, and instead enjoyed the languid days sharing laughs and recreation with Bryan and Meaghan. You know, it's amazing how a brush with death can put things into perspective and make you appreciate life.
Even if that "brush" was just a small frog.
Written by David M. Muench
Ah, summer. The gentle kiss of summer's sun - yeah, right - more like the fiery tongue scorching the dry, cracked Oklahoma earth. Summer days are best for swimming, working on your sunburn, and lazing indoors while sipping iced tea in front of the comforting glow of the television with the air conditioning set to "Arctic." Summer nights, however, are filled with catching fireflies, taking long walks, aaand scaring small children.
August, 2001. It was to be a week of fun in the (blazing) sun at the lake home of Julie and Leath; my sister and brother-in-law. And by "home" I mean trailer, at a private trailer park. It's a nearly new trailer, with all of the amenities. TV, DVD player, stereo, recliners, sleeper sofa, refrigerator, air conditioning - the works. We're talkin' the 'burbs version of "camping out." My nephew and niece - Bryan and Meaghan - were there as well.
It was an ideal week: During the day we were boating out to the beach, frolicking in the water; and by night we sat on the covered porch listening to chirrups and hoots of the nocturnal creatures; playing card or dice games. Boredom got the best of my sister and I, so we fabricated a "ghost story" to entertain ourselves and to unnerve our skittish 13-year-old nephew. Meaghan, 11, seemed rather apathetic with this whole "ghost" business.
Bryan and I slept in the two beds in the back bedroom that faced the wooded area. As he lay in the bed closest to the window, I surreptitiously scratched the wall, and lightly rapped my knuckle against the faux wood paneling as I feigned sleep. I could hear him shifting restlessly in bed, and it was all I could do to suppress a laugh.
The next morning Bryan's bed was empty. It seems he heard "strange noises" coming from outside and he promptly sprinted to the living room and slept in one of the recliners. "Hmm," I muttered curiously. "I wonder if it had anything to do with that ghost."
That night my sister and I conspired together - we could do more damage that way. She and I set out to walk her dogs, which was something we were going to do anyway. Bryan and Meaghan were left alone in the trailer playing with their toys and watching television. Upon returning I raced around to the back of the trailer with a few pieces of gravel in hand and tossed them on the roof.
Then Julie and I pretended to be "running from something" as we crashed into the door breathlessly, slamming and locking it behind us. I peered wide-eyed out the small window in the door, scanning the inky night for a nonexistent threat. Curious, Bryan and Meaghan asked what was wrong. My sister and I glanced nervously at each other and said shakily, "nothing." We were evil, I know. Julie and I then grabbed the flashlight and reluctantly stated that "we saw something out there," and coaxed Bryan and Meaghan to join us.
Once outside, I splashed the flashlight's beam across the ground in an erratic, haphazard manner. I aimed the beam around the trailer's skirting and muttered, "I think there's something in there." While smiling to myself I heard a distinct "thump" against the skirting. I furrowed my brows in a perplexed look and thought "damn, I'm starting to freak myself out now." In a hushed voice I inquired, "Did you hear that?" A couple grunts of acknowledgement.
Shining the flashlight in the area where I heard the noise, I began to wonder if I really did want to find out what bumped against the trailer skirting. That's when it happened. Without warning - some hideous, fanged creature leapt into the flashlight's beam capturing it's abominable horns, glaring eyes and long, clawed legs. I let out a gasp and jerked back, knowing I was in imminent danger of becoming frog food.
Yes, it was a small frog about the size of my thumb. No claws, horns, or fangs. But I just know that thing was glaring at me. Feeling foolish, I chuckled and tried to regain my aloof masculinity while my heart was still doing aerobics. Our devious "scare tactic" backfired, with me as the hapless victim.
The remaining days at the lake I dispensed with the talk of ghosts and goblins, and instead enjoyed the languid days sharing laughs and recreation with Bryan and Meaghan. You know, it's amazing how a brush with death can put things into perspective and make you appreciate life.
Even if that "brush" was just a small frog.
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