The road stretched out into a dark void.
I sat on the front seat of the car
blinking back tears unwept.
It was my birthday and not one
of my friends remembered it.
Seated beside me was my dog, Jake.
He nuzzled my shoulder as if wanting
to prove his love to me.
The headlights shone on a figure
standing in the middle of the road,
a male about 180 pounds.
He was waving me to stop.
I didn’t feel safe, even though
I knew Jake, a German Shepherd,
could easily take him. My car wasn’t roomy,
barely enough room for Jake and me.
I knew the sand dunes were just over the hill.
What if the stranger’s car was stuck?
And the fog was becoming milkier.
I decided to take my chances
and stopped the car and just then
an old van pulled up. The man,probably hearing Jakes barks
and warning growls headed to the van.
I thought maybe I could wormmy way out of this one.
Zillions of reasons to not become involved
marched through my mind. Alone in the shire,
I wasn’t about to kill the fatted calf for a stranger,especially when I could be the fatted calf.
For some strange reason, I thought back
to the second grade class I taught.
A noun is a person place or thing.
Well there’s the person, this spooky road is the place
and the thing is this gage or challenge
seemingly coming from the heavens,
or from somewhere else?
I tend to want to do everythingbut end up doing nothing. I quit arguing
with myself, leashed Jake, opened the car door
and approached the van.
Hooded figures jumped out
The van doors flew open.
and yelled, “Gotcha!”
My heart stopped pounding
when I realized they were my friends,
emphasis on the “were.”
“Happy Birthday!” they said
and we headed for the dunes to party.