Back when I was in college and still living home (in Southbury), some of the "city" kids that I went to school with used to refer to me as "the hick from the sticks." It used to make me feel a little awkward to say the least. However, one semester one of those "city boys" asked me out on a date. His name was Ray and he was such a nice guy...so polite. I knew that I would be "safe" (if you know what I mean) with him because he was going to the seminary to become a priest. I accepted the invitation. He was taking me to the drive-in in his white convertible.
We went to the movie, had our popcorn and other junk food and then he brought me home. Now remember, I lived out in the "sticks." There were no street lights on my road and with all the wide-open spaces...fields, thick patches of forest, it was "pitch dark."
I remember him parking the car closer to the house and the only light that was on was the one over the garage doors...that one and then, of course, the light from the bright stars that lit the autumn sky on that cool crisp evening. We got out of the car and as we leaned against the back of the car talking, we heard something in the bushes.
I simply dismissed it as, "it's probably a deer." There were always deer wandering out of the woods especially along the creek. Then, there it was again. It was getting closer...that rustling noise of brush being trampled. As the noise continued, I decided that I'd better go in and get my Uncle. My curfew when I was in college was eleven and both my Uncle and one of my cousins came out...both of them toting those big huge flashlights.
As all of us approached the brush cautiously where the noise was coming from. I remember Ray being towards the back proceeding ever so slowly. Suddenly, there it was! The bright flashlights shining on it's face....(to be continued)