Wait 'til September.

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"I think we can," I said to my best friend, Jimbo.  We were two young boys in our twelfth year on the cusp of a great adventure.
"Aunt Helen would say that we're stealing," Jimbo said somewhat pleadingly.

"Not really.  We'd just be borrowing the boat." I countered.

We were on the edge of a farm pond in the red clay area of South Carolina.   School was out, and our shoes had come off for the summer. It was a beautiful day; the sun was shining, and a gentle breeze rippled the dark green water.   We had started our big adventure the night before.  The two of us had camped out in a big gully and cooked our breakfast eggs over a campfire. If Jimbo would go along with me we could have some real fun.

" I think we can get that padlock open if we hit it with that rock,"  says I.

"I don't know about this..." Jimbo's voice trailed off.

"Just hold the lock on that big rock and I'll bust it with this rock!"

"Well...alright," my best friend said begrudgingly. He gingerly placed the rusty padlock on the large rock and held it at arm's length. The fourteen food wooden boat was chained to a large pine tree near the water.

Bam!

"See.  I told you it'd be easy"

Jimbo helped me push the boat away from the bank and we climbed in. The water was warm.  We struggled a bit as we clamored aboard.

"Tony, how we gonna paddle?"

"We'll use our hands.  I seen it once in a Davy Crockett movie!"

And there we were, two best buddies floating out in the middle of a three acre farm pond on a beautiful summer day. A largemouth arced through the air in the shallows and made a big splash.
"I wish I'd brought my fishin' pole!" we exclaimed together. Visions of that fish on the end of my pole danced in my head!

"Shhh!" I warned Jimbo.  "Somebody's comin'," I whispered.

I heard the voice calling me. "Tony...Tony-boy!"  It was my grandmother.

"What we gonna do?"  Jimbo asked frantically.

Exhibiting my cleverness, I said, "We'll slip over the side of the boat and hold on.  The boat will be between us and Grandma, so she won't see us."  We were very quick and hardly made a splash in the water. My grandmother came to the edge of the pond opposite us and called again.  We were quiet as mice. But then we heard my grandmother hurrying away and screaming, "Gladys, them boys have done fell in that pond and drownded!" She repeatedly screamed until we couldn't hear her anymore. We knew it was time to get ashore and maybe hide somewhere, but we were not fast enough.  As we were securing the boat, my mother appeared. Her face was red.  She was disheveled and breathing hard from running.  And, there was a look on  her face that was not a loving motherly look.

"Your father will deal with you when he gets home, young man. And Jimbo, I'm sure yours will deal with you too,"  Mama said. When she called me "young man" I knew I was in trouble!

It was the end of our great adventure.  When Daddy got home from work he used a system of discipline that he said always worked on dogs and boys. "A stick on the behind sends a message to the mind!"

Can't wait 'til September.  I can sit down again then!