Leif, Diana, Zach, and Francis were going to the beach for the weekend, and Siobhan and I had the idea to camp out in their house unbeknownst to them.
I picked Francis’ room because hers was light and airy with a big bay window and was painted white. It was actually like the room in the Hendry’s house next door on Coring Road, albeit on the ground floor instead of the first. And I took my records with me so that I could play them the next day.
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That night I slept in Francis’ bed then early the next morning I was playing one of my records when we heard them returning. They were early.
I scrambled out of bed while Siobhan went over to the front door to distract them.
On the other side of the house I heard noises from Diana, Francis’ mum, and suddenly I was in a panic.
Quickly, I picked up the album, it was ELP’s Pictures at an Exhibition, But accidentally I picked up the felt from the record player too. I put back the felt, found the record sleeve, and put it in without the protective cover.
Then I heard them in the next room. My clothes and travel case were strewn around, the bed unmade.
Perhaps I could sneak out with the records under one arm, the clothes and case thrown together under the other.
As I thought about my escape route I saw a person over by the bedroom blinds. He looked like Siobhan’s dad with his tweed flat cap and his red and white windbreaker. He was trying to open the window and look in.
As he pulled up the window sash he called out, “Who’s in there? Anyone in there?”
Teenage memories with image provided by RawPixel