Summertime around the Old House was one of the greatest times of the year. There were cookouts, sleepovers, camping trips, swimming at the river, as well as a host of other festive activities which required that time of year. It was a time when the sun scorched the land with its merciless glare, and the heat could be seen radiating off of the emerald fields in silent waves which sapped the strength from anyone foolish enough to stay out in it for too long. Most of all, at least to Randy Frady, it was the best time to sleep out, under the stars. This homebound adventure came second only to going camping, yet in many ways he often had more fun laying out in the wide-open field after the hay had been cut and baled. He loved to lay flat on his back beneath the midnight sky and stare into the depths of the open sea of stars, imagining what lay beyond the borders of the known cosmos. It always excited him to lay there and feel as though he would fall up, into the endless void at the edge of night. Yes, this was certainly on par with camping save for the lack of a good campfire. Most of the time, he would gather his things and sleep out beneath the starlit sky alone, taking in the solitude and dreaming of lands far away. There were other occasions, however, when he would invite his friends over to camp beneath the stars, where they had run of the large field which stretched beyond the front yard of the Old House. On those nights, they would laugh, talk, watch the stars, and more for every moment was an adventure no matter how many times they camped out beneath the starry sky. Tonight, it seemed, would be no different.
Randy’s friend Stacy had come to visit, and while the duo were throwing saw blades at the side of the old chicken coop-turned-into-a-clubhouse, they were discussing the events of Randy and Clint’s events from one of the last time they camped in the old field.
“Clint and I stood in the front yard and looked out over the field and saw something walking near where we were camping,” Randy explained with a light grunt as he let the wood cutting blade fly; it hit the target with a resounding thud and sank into the wafer board.
“No way,” Stacy replied, “that’s crazy, and you guys stayed out there afterward?”
Randy launched another sawblade with a flip of his wrist and flinched as it went sailing over the building never to be seen again. “Yeah,” he responded half-mindedly as he watched one of his favorite blades vanish into the tangle of vines and debris that once upon a time was the cherry orchard, “I mean... no we went inside, neither of us wanting to reveal what the other saw until we went into my room and drew it out. Clint sat on one side of the room, while I sat on the other, and while there were differences in the individual drawing styles, the image was the same.” Randy looked at his longtime friend, “they were exactly the same!” he was almost thrilled with the recounting of the events of that night.
Randy’s eyes lit up as an idea crossed his mind. “Hey, I know,” he said with a grin that made Stacy wonder what he was up to, “do you want to stay over and camp out in the field?”
Stacy was always game for staying over, he and Randy were often inseparable, being more like brothers than neighborhood friends, and as he always knew, wherever Randy was, adventure was never far away. The clubhouse itself was a testimony to that. Randy had engineered the windows, to be an emergency escape in case of danger, and with Stacy’s wily craftmanship, the two had designed an escape/ambush route that allowed Randy’s acrobatic skills to be put to the test. As if to draw Stacy back to the present another sawblade whistled as it cut the air to sink deeply into the target yet again. “You know,” Stacy said as he nonchalantly cast a sawblade into the side of the building, “I’d hate it for anyone to catch us in a hardware store.” The blade found its mark on one of the smaller side targets. Randy nodded in agreement and, with a cocky smile, playfully tossed one with a vertical backhand that hit the target nearly dead center.
“Yeah,” he responded with a waggle of his eyebrows and a smile, “me too. So, what do you think; you staying, or am I sleeping out on my own?” He casually flipped another sawblade in his hand deftly avoiding the cutting tines as he caught it.
“Of course, you goofball,” Stacy replied; “I’ll just have to call my mom and make sure its fine with her.” With that Randy let fly the last three blades at the same time each of them hammering the target within inches of one another.
“Well,” he said with a clap and a rub of his hands, “what are we waiting for?” With that they ran inside to see to the task of getting all the necessary permissions for their plans to be officially set into motion.
The caustic heat of the midsummer’s sun scorched the open field mercilessly, as the duo hauled a couple of sheets of scrap paneling for their late-night escapade through the sweltering furnace of grass. There was no breeze to stir the air for comfort and each breath felt as though it would scorch the inside of their nostrils at any given moment. The scent of hot grass, and dust made them long for a glass of water, tea, coke, or nearly anything that was wet. They laid the paneling from the porch out to form a solid hardscape on which they could roll out their sleeping bags later. Sweat rolled in tiny streams down the boys’ faces as they made the necessary trips to haul all but the final items for the night’s adventure down to the camp. By the time all was ready, they still had a couple of hours of daylight left.
Randy wiped the sweat from his face, flinching as some of the salty solution went into his eye. He and Stacy were trudging back up through the blistering heat which radiated from the dry grass having just taken the last of the night’s supplies to the paneling which would serve as their camp and bedding zone. “Say, you want to see if we can get pizza from Pizza Express,” Randy inquired as he rubbed the salty liquid from his eye? The question lingered in the air for a moment as they slogged back toward the Old House. Randy lived for pizza, and often stated that he could eat the stuff like a Ninja Turtle. In fact, as small as he was, Randy had been known to eliminate an entire large, Meat Lover’s Pan Pizza from Pizza Hut by himself… and still be hungry later.
Stacy’s eyes went from an exhausted glaze to popping open at full attention at the mention of the glorious disk of pepperoni, sauce and cheese covered bliss. “Pizza?” Stacy regarded Randy with new energy at the mere mention of the word. “Heck yeah,” he responded with renewed enthusiasm; “I would just about kill for some pizza!” The tall heavyset youth then straightened up his posture and tried to appear as prim, proper, and professional as he could, then followed up stating, “It’s a good thing that we don’t have to prove that, though.” As if to embellish on his statement he twirled the sword that he had made from an old display blade and a hammer handle, finishing off the exhibition with a flourish that left him standing in an exaggerated action pose.
Randy chuckled lightheartedly at his buddy’s antics. He knew, all too well, that aside from his wit and creativity, the heavy-set youth was a gentle soul, but it was all these things and more that made him and his compadre close. Stacy regained his normal stride and joined Randy in laughter. Together, the pair of youths joked, laughed, and talked until they were back on the porch of the Old House. Baby, the Frady’s white Eskimo Spitz which bore the resemblance to a solid white husky but much smaller, greeted them, hopping about on her hind legs as she made an affectionate display of excitement at seeing the approach of part of her family. The teens paused long enough to give her and the other three dogs an ample bit of petting and tummy rubs before wading on through the quartet of excited pooches, and into the front door.
The Pizza Express’ twenty-four-inch Express was a massive pie of hand tossed Italian goodness with every inch of its surface covered in cheese, sauce, and five meaty toppings. A fine aromatic steam wafted off the hot melted toppings and filled the boys’ nostrils with the promise that there would be no one going hungry on this night of adventure. One slice of the massive pizza stretched over the entirety of a dinner plate with its corners hanging at least a couple of inches off the edge. It was a bit much for some, but to Randy and his friends, the mega-slice was like a little piece of heaven served on a plate complete with dripping cheese, pepperoni, sausage and more. The teens ate until they felt they were going to burst at the seams. Randy was always a fan of the sauce, sure he loved the toppings, but the tomato sauce was what really kept him coming back for bite after bite. Once the two were able to move again after the filling meal, they went to Randy’s room where the Nintendo sat waiting for them to delve into its pixelated realms. They played everything from Castlevania and Wizards & Warriors, to Mega Man 2, until it was time for them to take the last load of supplies to the field.
Randy once more set to gathering his things. He grabbed his sleeping bag, his backpack which had been stuffed with everything from socks and extra blankets- for that dreaded part of the night when the dew crept upon the land and spoiled the summer’s night with its venomous chill- to throwing stars, daggers, and whatever other weapons he could muster. He looked around for a moment and grabbed the eight-foot leather whip he had bought since the last time he stayed out. All in all, he was ready to go. Stacy walked up with an armload of weapons, pillows, and a host of other items which they deemed necessary to survive a night in the field…especially if that thing which dwelt in the field, known to Randy and his inner circle as the Field-Dweller, showed up.
The shadows of night blanketed the land with a thousand shades of gloom, with only the silvery light of the moon and the feeble glow of the antique lantern in Randy’s hand to light the way. Though the hay had only been cut little more than a month ago the grass was clumpy stiff and made footing difficult at best in the ebony shroud that all but robbed them of their vision. Had anyone been watching the spectacle of the teens making their way across the field to their designated camp, they might have thought that they were witnessing the beginning of a grand adventure like those written in the stories of old, though every so often the majestic swagger became more of a stagger as the one or the other struggled to keep hold of their gear.
Randy and Stacy had just crossed the wrinkle-like ridge that spanned the middle of the field when they realized that they were no longer alone. Their eyes scanned the area, taking in the scene before them as they trudged on toward the makeshift camp- From the pale glow of moonlight which cast the land in a deathly pallor, to the midnight breeze which skulked across the land with a venomous wheeze, the whole seemed to take on a whole new and sinister air than what it had merely a moment before. While the camp was less than ten yards away, it seemed like an island oasis amidst a pallid and turbulent sea. Cloud shadows raced across the grassy carpet chasing one another like angry phantoms swarming in the night. Amid the ominous, almost omen like trappings of their surroundings, something odd stood out… for there in the curve standing by the steel gate leading to the cow pasture was a figure, and whatever it was, was watching them. Randy and Stacy felt the hair raise on the back of their necks as the grayish-silvery figure seemed to watch their every move. Randy never took his eyes from it, as he and his friend carefully made their way to the paneling which had served as their camping surface in the grassy expanse. It never moved as the teens sat their gear down, nor did it even twitch as Randy and Stacy drew out their weapons. They were ready to defend themselves against whatever had come out to greet them if fate so chose to see fit to take them down that path. With the cautious step of prey who sought not to provoke its pursuer, yet the skulking gait and practiced step of one who knew the ways of a hunter, the boys started toward the silvery-gray figure which stood upright like a man, and in fact was more resembling someone than something… or at least so they thought. Having left the lantern back at the camp in order to keep from drawing too much attention to their approach, the youth found that they were able to get neatly fifty yards away before the thing realized their intended approach. From their newly acquired distance, they could see that the figure was indeed man-like, but also carried wolfish traits as well. That was however, the only glimpse they would see, for when it saw them it growled, dropped from its bipedal standing position to all fours like a wolf, leapt the cow-gate in a single bound, and then ran into the shadows of the night- never to be seen again. Randy and Stacy looked at one another in bewilderment, unsure of what they had just witnessed, but with their minds wrapping around the events of the last moment or so… they went back to their camp, where the lantern still burned bright, and racing clouds chased shadows across the land swirling as phantoms and other foul apparitions seeming to mock them as they passed. It would be a long night until dawn was to peer over the eastern horizon… but hopefully the lantern would see them through. They knew no one would believe them if they told the story… but they knew… it would forever be etched in their memory.
W. R. Frady
