Kids love to hear about the good old days when their grandparents were children. I’ve decided to write down many of my stories and publish them on Medium. That way, they’ll be preserved in cyberspace for eternity. Maybe future descendants will read them.
The following is one of my better ones. I swear it’s true. Yes, I have a B.A. degree in creative writing, but this is true. You can’t make stuff up like this. I was 11 years old, and my brother, Kenneth, six and living in Fresno, CA. We were asleep when it happened and didn’t hear about it until the next morning:
It happened late in the evening. The dense tule fog arrived that November as usual, making the days cold, dreary, and the evenings creepy, scary. Kenneth and I slept in our bedrooms under piles of blankets that warmed our skinny bones. It was the kind of night nightmares are made of.
As usual, Mama checked the locks on the doors and windows and made sure the gas was turned off on the stove before going to bed. After checking in the kitchen, she made her way to the front window in the living room. She pulled back the window shade to check the lock. Agh!!! A man stood outside, peering in the window!
Mama ran to the phone and called a gentleman friend to come over and save her from the man in the window. He hopped in his car and drove like lightning to the rescue. He stepped into the house, and she showed him the window where the strange man looked in. The gentleman friend looked behind the window shade. Agh!!! Agh!!! They both screamed! He’s back!
Even the gentleman friend who came to the rescue was frightened, now. Call the police! Call the police! They both cried!
Recognizing a real emergency, the police quickly arrived. They searched around the perimeter of the house with their flashlights. There were footprints, but the man in the window was gone.
He’s gone and probably won’t be coming back, they said.
The gentleman friend went home. Mama went to bed but had a fitful sleep thinking about the man in the window.
Mama woke up, bleary-eyed at the first peep of light. She walked around the house, rolling up the shades like she did every morning. She got to the front window, tugged on the shade, and it shot up, flapping at the top of the window.
Agh!!! The man was back!
Not only that, he was dressed like a pilgrim and made out of construction paper. My first-grade brother’s creation in celebration of Thanksgiving!
I swear on all my dear departed relative's graves that this is true.