A Scout is Brave by Unknown

Author:Unknown
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 0000000000000
Published: 2024-07-02T15:17:06+00:00

12

Every Scout, no matter how strait-laced or even cowardly, has snuck out of a tent with his buddies on a brisk night; it might as well be a merit badge. I think it has to do with why you go to the woods in the first place, hoping something cool will happen to you. Sometimes you have to go out of your way to find it first.

With your eyes straining to see by the light of the stars and your ears open for the Scoutmaster, maybe you’re especially sensitive to every feeling and sensation. You climb out of your sleeping bag and whisper to your friends through chattering teeth because, hey, something could happen and you’re not going to miss it. I’d done it lots of times with Jaime and Frank in the Adirondacks, but seeing Aubrey there hunched beside the tent in his gray sneaking clothes with a big grin reminded me of how it was supposed to feel.

“You ready?” I asked, though I didn’t have to. I knew that eagerness in the muscles and bones, almost ready to go on without me.

“Yeah,” he replied. He twisted open the lid on a can of shoe polish. “Put some of this on your face to cut down the glare.”

I took the tin from him and closed it again. “There’s a fine line between ‘hard to see’ and ‘suspicious,’ Aubrey.”

He considered a second. “You’re right.”

I looked up at the second-floor windows. A dim yellow light flickered between heavy curtains. “You sure they’re asleep?” I whispered.

“Mother can’t sleep most nights now,” he said. “Her hearing, too, is getting less sensitive.”

Good lord, I thought. What was wrong with her? Or with him?

“We’d better be careful,” he said.

We left the walled garden along a path of mossy bricks to deaden the sound of our steps, and Aubrey’s oiled gate swung open in perfect silence. He gave me a thumbs up and I returned it.

We turned down the sidewalk and headed for the harbor. The moonlight wasn’t great for stealth, but we did the best we could by moving in the shadows with all the care and strategy of chess pieces. We walked quietly as instructed by the handbook, heel first and then the toe, but the swish of leaves blowing down the street more than covered any sound we made.

Back in Flushing, older folks went to bed early, but in Innsmouth, most occupied houses had at least one lit window still blazing after midnight. In some, there were the barely moving silhouettes of someone awake, maybe reading or maybe just waiting for the morning to come. The ones sitting sideways didn’t bother me, but some seemed to be gazing out toward the streets. If any of them saw us, they made no sign of it.

“Lot of insomniacs in town?” I whispered to Aubrey.

He glanced up at the second story window where Dr. Brunner sat hunched over something and replied, “People around here don’t need much sleep.”

We made our way to the docks on the

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