The Night Chester Passed Away
It was a humid July night with crickets chirping as the fireflies danced around the meadow. And all I could think about was getting back to my bunk to get some sleep. It had been a long day playing games with the kids at summer camp. A lot of fun and good memories, but I was exhausted. Stumbling into the cabin I noticed that the maintenance crew was still working on renovating this massive donated storage shed into proper staff housing. It was coming along nicely, but there was still work to be done. “That’s okay,” I thought as I reached my bed and the comfort of my fluffy pillow. “I am home safe and sound!”
As my eyelids begin to droop I realized that I had left the lamp on and my late night snack of a peanut butter sandwich on the desk. Pulling back the covers to climb out of my cozy bed and turn off the light I froze in place. There by the door was THE MOUSE! I had come to call him Chester because he had beady little eyes like my uncle Chester. He had been haunting my sleep for the last few nights. It was my own fault for leaving peanut butter sandwiches lying around when I went to bed, but now this brown fuzzy rodent was slipping under a slight crack in the front door and making himself at home. And eating MY sandwiches! “No more,” I had told myself that morning. Our ruggedly handsome maintenance director, Nathan, had used his cunning intelligence to place a trap for the mouse. A delicious pile of mouse poison that would kill on contact in a safe, but humane manner.
I watched helplessly from the bed as the evil mouse scurried across the floor in my direction, but thankfully turning towards my delicious peanut butter sandwich! “But wait! What’s that?” I thought. The mouse stopped and scratched his head as he looked puzzled at the pile of mouse poison. I assumed that he was thinking “This looks different and delicious.” He grabbed a piece and began to nibble on his new found taste treasure. After just a brief moment I could see a look of confusion in his eye as he turned towards me. He stared deep into my eyes as his body shuddered twice and he clutched his furry little chest and crumpled to the floor. I swear that I saw his little mouse soul slowly depart his body and rise up through the ceiling of the shed and into the heavens.
This was quite the shock for me. I was glad to see Chester had been dealt with, but I would never forget to clean up my peanut butter sandwiches again. And ever since that night if you listen closely on sweet warm summer nights you can sometimes hear Chester the mouse scurrying across the floor looking for that peanut butter sandwich.