On the High Road to Oblivion

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They left at midnight.

A wan moon was just beginning to climb from behind the hills on the other side of the valley as John Perdue crept to the eaves of the Hathaway farmhouse and tossed a pebble at the second floor window.

“Johnny!” A voice hissed from under the porch to his left.

He ducked reflexively, but he already knew who it was. “Zeb! I thought you’d be sleepin’.”

Zebediah Hathaway slid out from the dark recess. “Not on your life. I couldn’t sleep.”

Johnny knew the feeling. They had been planning this for more than a week, waiting for the moon to be right. The lights never came when the moon was full. “C’mon. We gotta beat feet if we’re gonna make it there and back.”

Zeb trundled his bicycle from its usual place of rest alongside the porch and walked it alongside his friend as they hastened down the drive to the main road where Johnny’s bicycle was stowed. In the interests of stealth, both boys had removed the playing cards clothes-pinned to the front forks. Once clear of the immediate vicinity of the Hathaway house, both boys mounted their tubular metal steeds and charged off into the night.

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