By Carmen Wright
Chapter One
Believe it or not, I like to go to bed. Especially just after my mom washes the sheets. They smell sweet and feel as smooth as satin. I love to curl up under my blankets and drift off to sleep. Sleep is very relaxing. Except lately.
For the past five nights, I woke to clattering and clunking coming from outside. Not only did this ruin my dreams, it didn’t make any sense. Who wanted to be outside in the middle of the night? Didn’t they know that ten-year-old girls like me need their sleep? Unless it was some sort of animal making all that noise. But what animal would do the same thing at the same time every night?
I couldn’t stand it anymore. Tonight, I was ready. I curled up next to the big living room window in my fuzzy yellow robe with my mom’s digital camera all charged up. We live on the second floor of my apartment building and can easily see the street. Buster, my black Labrador retriever, sat next to me. His ears perked up. Whenever a car went by, his nose went back and forth, leaving marks all along the glass.
We watched and waited. Would our prowler come back? The clock ticked past midnight. Then, we saw a teenager walking along the sidewalk. He wore baggy pants and a heavy jacket. His ball cap covered his face. When he came to the driveway leading under our apartment building, he stopped. He turned off his music player and pulled out the ear nubs. After looking behind him and to each side, he darted down the driveway.
Buster started to growl. I knew he wanted to chase after him.
“It’s okay, Buster.” I petted him along his back.
After a few minutes, we heard the same clattering and clunking noises. Buster stood up and whimpered. Since he couldn’t get out, he paced back and forth along the length of the window, watching for more action. The nose streaks along the glass got longer and longer.
I could feel my heart thumping. I wondered what he could be doing down there. The cars were locked up inside the security gate. Was he trying to get through the gate? Or was it the bike locker he was after?
Finally, the noise stopped. The guy walked up the driveway. I slid open the window and zoomed in on him with the camera. He held a clear garbage bag over his shoulder filled with cans. Not pop cans, but tin cans from chicken soup, creamed corn and tuna fish. Some even had the labels still on. What could he want with them?
I needed to get a picture before he got too far away. I leaned forward and steadied my arms. I followed as he walked along the street. As he stepped under a streetlight, I took a picture.
Suddenly, Buster barked. The guy turned his head and looked up at our window. I snapped another picture. This time, I had a perfect shot of the bandit’s face.
I grinned. “Rest well, mister. Your prowling nights are over.”
… end chapter one