The Old Man on Wilde Lake

There wasn’t any place that I’d rather be than the old pier on Wilde Lake. It was a great place to fish, that is, until we got jumped.

There was an old man who lived in a run-down trailer near the lake, and he was a fellow that never got out much. My buds and I never even knew he lived there until he had us at the end of his gun.

You see, it was the Fourth of July and my buds had the idea to bring along a couple firecrackers and whistlers for the fishing trip. We went at night, when the raccoons would come out. I was scared to death of them when I was little, but I grew out of it when I realized they wouldn’t bite my face off.

They were attracted to the fish. We scared them off with a firecracker if they got cocky. There was one that was quite persistent, even determined.

In fact, that raccoon was the old man‘s accomplice, sent on a reconnaissance mission. We were about to toss more sparklers at it when suddenly, the old man pounced on us.

“You kids harassing my partner here?” he accused us, brandishing his gun.

Startled, our hands shot up in the air. “Wha- partner? No sir, please don‘t shoot us!”

“Well, I‘ve got mind to teach you for stirrin‘ up my woods!” he threatened.

“We were just protecting our fish, sir. This is what really happened.” I pleaded.

He hoisted his gun to his shoulder and copped my friend on the head.

“I dun‘ want no more of yer fire-crackers botherin’ my Jack now, yeh hear?” Then the old man turned heel and left as soon as he appeared, with the little raccoon waddling behind him. We turned tail soon after.