Rough Night

“This drive seems to take longer each year, Jess. How long have we been on the road?”

“I reckon over twelve hours.  Why do you care? All you’ve been doing is sleeping.”

“Not true – I’ve done my part. Haven’t I been keeping you awake with my snoring?”

Jesse snorted in response as he pulled into the lakeside marina. “You’d better not keep me up with your snoring tonight. I’ll climb out of that sleeping bag and knock you out for the count.”

The two old fishing buddies went in to pay the fees for their campsite that night. Mike instructed Jesse to get something close to the lake so it would be quiet. They soon had a fire going and started supper. After eating, the two old fishing buddies sat companionably by the fire, smoking their cigars and telling tall tales.

“I’m turning in,” Jesse said. “I’m done in from all that driving.  Remember that warning about your snoring!”

Jesse had just drifted off to sleep when he heard a train whistle in the distance. In a few minutes the entire tent seemed to shake as a coal train rumbled by. He could hear Mike trying hard not to laugh out loud a few feet away.

Later, Mike was awakened by Jesse’s hand over his face. “Hey, I’m not snoring,” he muttered.

“Shush, there’s someone out there. Listen…”

They heard someone … something? … moving through camp, knocking stuff over, and then what sounded like a whispered argument. Mike reached for the flashlight, opened the tent flap and switched the light on. There, in the beam of the light, were three raccoons busily attempting to open a cooler. Caught in the act, the wannabe thieves quickly scampered off.

“That does it,” Jesse exclaimed irritably. “Get dressed – we’re going night fishing.”