It was a dark and stormy night.
(Not really, but somehow that's how this story should start.)
It was actually a warm and balmy night on Oak Island, NC, home of the Caldwell Family Vacation since 1986. I'm not sure where the rest of us were, but Kevin, Craig and Kyle were on their way home from a big night of flirting with the tourist tweens down at the Oak Island Putt-Putt. All three were under age 13 at the time, so they were walking, of course.
The story goes that Craig and/or Kyle were haphazardly violating safety rules by wandering into the street instead of walking on the curb. So Kevin the future trooper, always on the lookout, wields a firm and rather loud reprimand: "Get out of the road, you idiots!"
Unfortunately, this exclamation was uttered in very close proximity to two twenty-something intoxicated rednecks, also quite near and possibly in the road, who mistook the receipt of Kevin's harsh warning as their own. Naturally they were quite offended, and took off in hot pursuit of the stupid little twerp who would dare insult them in public -- and his skiddish younger brothers.
[start Chariots of Fire music for the slow-mo chase scene]
Now in these days Craig and Kyle weren't what you'd call identical. They were in 3rd or 4th grade, and Craig was quite a bit, um, leaner than Kyle. Faster, too, and as a result quickly shot way ahead in the earliest moments of the chase. Kyle, encumbered by his non-leanness, was lagging far behind. Kevin was stuck in the middle (literally and figuratively), yelling ahead at Craig to slow down and behind at Kyle to speed up. By this time they had moved a few streets over from the main drag, but still were several blocks away from the safety of our vacation home away from home. Meanwhile their pursuers were still in tow, and gaining.
Kevin directed his charges to keep moving, but was quickly losing control. Craig was so far ahead he could barely see him in the darkening dusk, and when he turned around to look for Kyle -- he was gone! A quick scan of the horizon revealed what might have been Kyle's final resting place: a shallow roadside ditch under a lone oleander bush. Kyle had fought the good fight, but was just too worn out to finish the race.
Kevin yelled ahead at Craig to stop where he was, and quickly ran back to yank Kyle up from the depths of despair. But alas, it was too late. Kyle had all but given up the ghost. As he refused to budge from beneath the bush, he offered these famous last words:
"Go on without me. Save yourselves. Tell Mom I love her."
In a feat of adrenaline strength and sheer frustration at this dramatic turn of events, Kevin did in fact manage to pull Kyle back up, catch up with Craig, and dash up to the home of a stranger for a safe refuge. No doubt the feeble old woman who answered their frantic knocking was taken aback when two 9-year-olds tackled her to rush inside as soon the door was cracked.
And now, the rest of the story:
(although somewhere in here Kyle rolls into the back of a stranger's truck for a much-appreciated free ride -- whose driver, unbeknownst to him, was actually the one who would destroy him.)
Kevin called home from the stranger's house, Scott got riled up and sped off looking for the thugs, Mom and Dad retrieved their exhausted projeny, and all's well that ends fairly well under the circumstances.
Until bedtime.
Craig and Kyle were sharing a bed in the upstairs loft, understandably shaken and understandably talking things through and reassuring each other as only twin brothers who had shared such a harrowing experience could do.
Kevin, bunking below on the pull out sofa, hears the boys talking and sneaks up the spiral staircase for a listen. He reports that before screaming like a banshee and jumping in the middle of their bed, the last words he heard were:
"Were you scared?"
"Yeah."
"Me, too."
[start theme from Jaws for dramatic effect, followed immediately by whatever angry parent music you can find as Dad rushes upstairs to see what all the commotion's about.]
(Not really, but somehow that's how this story should start.)
It was actually a warm and balmy night on Oak Island, NC, home of the Caldwell Family Vacation since 1986. I'm not sure where the rest of us were, but Kevin, Craig and Kyle were on their way home from a big night of flirting with the tourist tweens down at the Oak Island Putt-Putt. All three were under age 13 at the time, so they were walking, of course.
The story goes that Craig and/or Kyle were haphazardly violating safety rules by wandering into the street instead of walking on the curb. So Kevin the future trooper, always on the lookout, wields a firm and rather loud reprimand: "Get out of the road, you idiots!"
Unfortunately, this exclamation was uttered in very close proximity to two twenty-something intoxicated rednecks, also quite near and possibly in the road, who mistook the receipt of Kevin's harsh warning as their own. Naturally they were quite offended, and took off in hot pursuit of the stupid little twerp who would dare insult them in public -- and his skiddish younger brothers.
[start Chariots of Fire music for the slow-mo chase scene]
Now in these days Craig and Kyle weren't what you'd call identical. They were in 3rd or 4th grade, and Craig was quite a bit, um, leaner than Kyle. Faster, too, and as a result quickly shot way ahead in the earliest moments of the chase. Kyle, encumbered by his non-leanness, was lagging far behind. Kevin was stuck in the middle (literally and figuratively), yelling ahead at Craig to slow down and behind at Kyle to speed up. By this time they had moved a few streets over from the main drag, but still were several blocks away from the safety of our vacation home away from home. Meanwhile their pursuers were still in tow, and gaining.
Kevin directed his charges to keep moving, but was quickly losing control. Craig was so far ahead he could barely see him in the darkening dusk, and when he turned around to look for Kyle -- he was gone! A quick scan of the horizon revealed what might have been Kyle's final resting place: a shallow roadside ditch under a lone oleander bush. Kyle had fought the good fight, but was just too worn out to finish the race.
Kevin yelled ahead at Craig to stop where he was, and quickly ran back to yank Kyle up from the depths of despair. But alas, it was too late. Kyle had all but given up the ghost. As he refused to budge from beneath the bush, he offered these famous last words:
"Go on without me. Save yourselves. Tell Mom I love her."
In a feat of adrenaline strength and sheer frustration at this dramatic turn of events, Kevin did in fact manage to pull Kyle back up, catch up with Craig, and dash up to the home of a stranger for a safe refuge. No doubt the feeble old woman who answered their frantic knocking was taken aback when two 9-year-olds tackled her to rush inside as soon the door was cracked.
And now, the rest of the story:
(although somewhere in here Kyle rolls into the back of a stranger's truck for a much-appreciated free ride -- whose driver, unbeknownst to him, was actually the one who would destroy him.)
Kevin called home from the stranger's house, Scott got riled up and sped off looking for the thugs, Mom and Dad retrieved their exhausted projeny, and all's well that ends fairly well under the circumstances.
Until bedtime.
Craig and Kyle were sharing a bed in the upstairs loft, understandably shaken and understandably talking things through and reassuring each other as only twin brothers who had shared such a harrowing experience could do.
Kevin, bunking below on the pull out sofa, hears the boys talking and sneaks up the spiral staircase for a listen. He reports that before screaming like a banshee and jumping in the middle of their bed, the last words he heard were:
"Were you scared?"
"Yeah."
"Me, too."
[start theme from Jaws for dramatic effect, followed immediately by whatever angry parent music you can find as Dad rushes upstairs to see what all the commotion's about.]
