'Uh,' Roger says sleepily. 'Is it morning already?'
'No, silly,' I whisper. 'Keep your voice down and listen.'
We lie quietly in our sleeping bags. There it is again, soft rustling and
scratching sounds and, now and then, rattling.
'What do think it is?' Roger asks, now fully awake.
'I don't know,' I reply. 'Shall we check it out?'
'Let's do it,' he answers.
Very quietly, we slip out of the sleeping bags and crawl to the tent
opening. Roger opens the flaps a crack and peeks out. I get above him
and look out over his head.
There's just enough moonlight to make out the trees and the nearby
tents. We can see Mother and Daddy's tent in front of ours. The
sounds are coming from off to one side.
I look down at Roger. His eyes are wide. So are mine, I guess.
'Are you game?' I ask him.
'OK,' Roger says.
I lift the lantern from its hook. I don't switch it on; there's enough
moonlight so that we can see well enough.
Opening the tent flap just enough, we slip out, stoop far over, and tiptoe
in the direction of the sounds. We're very quiet and don't even whisper.
Up ahead, among the trees, is where campers bring things they don't
want, like empty tin cans and dinner leftovers that can't be saved until the
next mealtime. The sounds are coming from that direction.
Soon we're among the trees and near the large plastic containers where
the trash is stored. We're close enough to a container to touch it, but of
course, we don't.
Roger and I hear loud rattling. We whirl in the direction from where it's
coming and I switch on the lantern. Ahead of us are three trash
containers, and they're overturned. Paper bags, tin cans, and bits of food
cover the ground in all directions. Nosing about among the trash are
dozens of small animals, picking at scraps. We make out squirrels,
chipmunks, porcupines, woodchucks, and even a rooster and a chicken.
They're bleating, yapping, squealing, chirping and clucking as they
nibble and peck away at the leftover food.
'It's like a zoo,' Roger laughs.
'It's good that our table scraps aren't wasted,' I say.
'Yes,' Roger adds, 'but it'll sure be a mess for someone to clean up in the
morning.'
The animals don't seem to mind our watching. They go right on
scrounging and eating.
'Let's go back to the tent,' Roger yawns.
'I suppose we'd better,' I say, 'or we'll be too tired for tomorrow's
adventure.'
'Right,' Roger yawns again, 'That's one I don't want to miss.'
Nor do I. I' m really looking forward to it.
Back in our tent, I hang the lantern back on its hook and switch it off.
We crawl back into our sleeping bags. Roger yawns again as he
snuggles into the softness.
I think of the little animals having a feast among the trees, and feel glad
they can get at the food. I slip down so that my head isn't cold, pull up
my knees and wrap my arms around myself. I feel cozy.
***
'What happened the next day?' I asked.
'Wait and see,' Roger grinned.