FanStory.com - The Nights of Castle Fairby Mrs. KT

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When
fireflies
danced in the
heat of the night
and the evening air was filled with the sweet
smell of blooming lilacs, summer arrived.
Smith's back porch was
our summer
castle
built
with
stolen
bedsheets and
wooden tables.
"No Boys Allowed," was the rule of the day.
But the Smith boys were not to be deterred.
They built their own
covered forts,
plotting
their
own
brand of
delightful
special torture:
the infamous "Flashlight Under the Chin."
Nightly they'd make their way to our "fortress."
We'd be ready;
buckets of
water
at
hand
to drench
marauders
of "Castle Fair."
Fierce battles took place amid the laughter,
and when the wars were over, we'd huddle -
damsels and knights -
swapping tales
under
the
soft
homemade
canopies,
flashlights glowing.
Castle Fair was home to eerie midnight
tales of gypsies, Indians, and always
Captain Swarthout,
Civil War
hero,
now
grave
specter
who roamed these
parts endlessly.
"Bet you can't run up and touch his tombstone,"
one of the Smith boys would mockingly dare.
And we'd be off,
our flashlights
bobbing
all
the
way to
summer's fear
over the hill:
Swarthout's cemetery - where the captain
was sure to be waiting for all of us.
Three feet from the
iron gates
we'd stop,
scream,
and
run like
crazy fools
back to safety
and festooned porch where we'd lie awake all
night - flashlights in hand - planning our next run
when courage would
be with all
of the
"men"
of
noble
Castle Fair. . .
When fireflies dance
in the heat of the night, and the air is
filled with the sweet smell of lilacs, I know
that summer has
once again
arrived.
And
I
smile to
remember
long ago days
of flashlights, innocence, and Castle Fair.

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