A Pre-Dawn Encounter (Read 1,319 times)

:thumbsup :thumbsup

AJ, you had me looking for some miscreant laying on your floor.

Well, I guess a cucaracha is.

Good story, great use of your imagination.

Give us some more.

Jim Too

:god_bless_usa

that was great...

I loved the story, keep them coming.

Memories… The Shack

I was a young boy of about eight, when my father built a grape arbor in our back yard. It was a great lattice of thin strips of wood and soon fell full of grape vines. He had planted two varieties of grapes, dark purple and a green variety. It took a few seasons for them to fully thrive and produce fruit. They made a great snack at blooming regardless of the bitterness of some and the seeds. The local bird population was in constant competition with us for who could harvest the most to eat. The frame of the arbor made a wonderful outside area to sit inside and enjoy the shade. A lone maple tree grew from just behind the structure built into a small hill in our backyard. Within a year the tree reached higher and higher to the sky.

A few years later as I grew to late adolescence my father decided to build a small enclosure within the arbor for me as a club house of sorts. Using spare lumber, and some he bought, the project grew throughout the spring into a small house in our backyard. He had two sets of old window frames he found at the local dump he set in place on the front of the building. My mother rolled her eyes at his art of finding treasures in others thrown away items. Our trips to the dump always yielded wonderful surprises. On one trip we found a locker box and he surprised me by building into the floor of the structure to use as a secret hiding space for treasures.

After two months of work the enclosure became a small one room home of sorts for me and my friends to play in. It became known as “The Shack” affectionately. The arbor still enclosed it, but inside the vines was a very remarkable small living space. The Shack had a fairly good sized floor and table before the two large windows. The rear of The Shack had a ledge about twelve feet long running the width of the building. It was wide enough to sit or lay on during lazy days of summer. On one rear side he constructed a small tower with a small ladder leading to a flip open hatch allowing us kids to exit onto the roof. There were many days spent playing fort and escaping onto the roof to get away off the sloped roof and to the ground to escape our imagined bad guys or send out strike forces.

The maple tree had grown twenty feet or so in height and as boys will be boys we conquered it building platforms with scrap lumber we scavenged at new houses under construction nearby. My mother and father would sit on the back patio of our house and enjoy watching my friends and I improve on the appeal of The Shack every weekend. I know my dad enjoyed watching us scramble out the hatch and pretend to spy enemies from the crows nest we built in the maple tree. My mother at times would make us sandwiches and cookies for our voyage provisions. The Shack had become a ship and a fort. It soon became a submarine.

One Saturday I was biking with friends and my father added a unique option to our fort. He had spent a few weeks collecting old tubing and mirrors for a project. While I was away playing he added his project to The Shack without telling me. Late that Saturday afternoon my friends and I returned home and immediately headed for The Shack It was our club house. To our amazement we discovered the new addition to the space…a periscope. My dad with his eccentric abilities had installed a periscope in The Shack. This was one of the coolest things we had ever seen. It would go up and down and even turn completely around giving us a view of the close neighborhood. The Shack was now a submarine, fort and spy nest for us.

We spend many a days playing in The Shack. We stocked the secret safe in the floor with our found booty while one of us would survey the area with the periscope to be sure we were not watched. Play time in my backyard became a thrill. It grew to be a place most of the parents in the neighborhood knew they could find there kids. Our pretend time was so fantastic I felt more at home in The Shack then my own room. Over one summer my father added another window to one side that opened like a porthole. Although it was square we didn’t care. It became and another wonderful escape hatch for us.

A few summers past and I was growing to the ripe old age of eleven or twelve. My friends and I had camped out in each others backyard in tents, but now we wanted to camp out in The Shack. My parents were concerned about us being careful. In tents you used flashlights and sleeping bags. He was worried we would use candles or our camping lanterns sleeping in The Shack and would not allow us to sleep in it. He solved the problem by running electric power to The Shack and installed a small lighting system with one power outlet. All of us kids happily helped dig the trench from the garage to The Shack for the underground power feed. Trust me we were probably more hindrance then help, but dad dealt with us and it was done in one weekend. He even rigged an old intercom connection from our house and garage to The Shack.

The intercom was an old phone handset that hung on the wall and actually rang when you pushed a button at either end. This was the ultimate in cool or neat as we said then. We could really have a great time. Playing war we could dispatch troops and they could check in with the ship from their hiding place in the garage loft. The house was off limits in this kind of play. You would not believe how many battles we won due to our advanced communications and periscope. We had a kids ultimate fighting machine. The Shack was our fortress, be it a ship, hideout, or refuge. We had real lighting, a phone we called the radio, and all the needs for observation. Our wishes for fantasy were partly complete.

Now The Shack was finished we had one more thing we wanted to do with it. We wanted to sleep out over night in The Shack. It was obvious to us that if my parents were worried, they could call us with the third intercom in the house. The door and the hatch had locks on them so nobody could infiltrate us at night. How much safer could it be. We planned a camp out at my place, not in a tent near the back of the house, but in The Shack. My parents surprised us when they agreed to letting us camp in The Shack. Excited we all stowed our sleeping bags and set up for a day of play and overnight adventure. We sent out our spy troops to the garage and kept in communications all day via the “radio” we had installed. We were thrilled to do a long voyage and not a day trip.

That evening we “docked” for supplies. My parents had a cookout for us and we loved it. After chowing down on hot dogs and hamburgers we returned to the ship. We sent troops out checking on the enemy to be sure we could relax in safety for the night in our ship. Settled in we set the ships clock. Our clock was an old Big Ben wind up clock. Each sentry had to wake during the night and use the periscope to check the area. My friend Billy was elected Captain this time and ordered us to prepare for silent running. The phone rang and he answered. It was about ten at night and my dad, the admiral said to ready for the night. Billy said, “Aye, Aye, and ordered us to secure for the night. We all rolled our sleeping bags out. I was first officer so Billy and I got the ledge bunk, the rest spread out on the floor for the night.

“Lights out,” came the command from the Admiral (My dad) and we settled in for the night. Bob checked the periscope and crawled into his rack after giving an all clear. Snuggled up we dozed off until around four in the morning and the alarm clock went off. We all jerked awake and Dave got up. “Sir, I will check for enemy,” he announced leaning to the periscope with his eye squinted. In a minute he said all was clear and we fell back to sleep feeling safe. It was the neatest night we ever had together. We were not in a tent or in the house sleeping over. We had our own vessel we shared. Even after the clock woke us we still slept great a bit longer. The Shack my dad built gave us ultimate pleasure and independence. Probably for the first time four boys felt on their own.

The sun rose and we slept late. The excitement of the night before had exhausted our young dreams. The “radio” buzzed around nine in the morning. We awoke refreshed and rubbing our eyes as Billy answered the call. It was “The Commodore” (My Mom) saying the mess line was open and we needed to come ashore for provisions. Gathering as a unit we filed out on the “Dock” and to the house. There was no enemy around so we casually headed to breakfast laughing and happy on a successful voyage. It was a great breakfast. We felt almost like men, not boys. Mission accomplished.


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Just one of my collection of shorts.

AJ

Wasn't being a kid with energy and imagination great. Shame my tank low lite is on now adays.

AJ

Great tale, AJ............... Got any grand kids??? make sure they get a copy of Ole Gramps stories.................... The Old Sarge