Darla woke up. She climbed down from the top bunk and poked her sister, Trish.
“Did you hear that?” she whispered. Half awake, Trish complained.
“Hear what?” From outside, they heard a high-pitched screech that sounded almost like a monkey, combined with a clicking sound. Trish sat up in bed and Darla switched the light on.
“What IS that?” They heard foot steps in their parent’s room.
“Dad! Mom!”
“We heard it.” Dad called. He walked down the hall, carrying a flashlight.
The family followed him downstairs and watched as he shone a light out the window.
“Can’t see anything.”
“The Cooper’s lights are on,” Mom declared.
“The Beaumont’s, too.”
All along the lake, flood lights, porch lights, dock lights clicked on. Again, the family heard a howl and high pitched chatter. They saw light from a flashlight in the road, where the cabins’ outside lights didn’t reach. Mom and Dad stepped onto the porch.
“You OK out there?” Mom called.
Mr. Beaumont’s voice answered. “Fine. They’ve run off.”
They? “What was it?” Dad asked. By now, all the neighbors were stepping outside, curious to know what caused the commotion that awakened the entire neighborhood.
“Two foxes,” Mr. Beaumont replied. It’s the sound they make when they play or fight. There’s even a name for it – gekkering.”
“I thought foxes barked like a dog,” said Darla.
“That’s what most people think.” Mr. Beaumont smiled. “But they don’t. Once you hear that sound, you never forget it.”
“Or get back to sleep,” said Mrs. Cooper.
Everyone looked at each other. All the kids were up, except for the Pinelli’s baby who had slept through the noise. It was just past midnight, with a full moon shining on the lake. Everyone was dressed in nightclothes.
“Why don’t we have a pajama party?” suggested Mrs. Beaumont. “We’ll light the fire pit, make s’mores. Anyone know a good ghost story?”
Darla quietly took the flashlight from her Dad’s hand. She held it under her chin to make a monster face.
“Eee!” Brantley yelled. Soon, all the kids were running around making monster faces with flashlights.
The moonlight filtered through the trees and when the children grew tired of running, they sat around the fire with the grown-ups.
Trish toasted marshmallows.
Most of the others assembled s’mores, gooey chocolate and sticky marshmallow all over their fingers. Mr. Cooper brought out his guitar and started to strum. Soon, everyone was singing.
“I’m staying up all night,” Darla declared.
“You’re not going to have much company,” Mom said.
One by one, parents were carrying sleeping children home to bed, until only a few people remained. Trish leaned heavily on Dad, her eyes sleepy. Brantley wasn’t keeping time to the music anymore.
“I’m not sleepy! I love being out late at night,” said Darla.
“Well, it’s time to go home. I’m tired and want to go to sleep,” said Mom. “When you go to bed, you can stay awake as long as you want.” Darla climbed into bed and propped her pillow up, determined to watch the sun rise.
She listened to the frogs croaking and the wind rustling in the tree branches, hoping that the foxes would come back tomorrow night and wake everybody up at midnight again.
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