(We now return to our regularly scheduled program.)
My mother affectionately called me The Rotten Kid. Of course I blamed her for setting a good example. You can read about a couple of her childhood exploits here.
When I was 17 or 18 a family came to stay at our guest house at Lillie Maho on St. John. There were five kids. Two girls and three boys. The girls slept with their parents in one of the units, while the boys slept in one of two "overflow" rooms we called the Bunk Rooms. I slept in the Bunk Room right next to the boys and could heard them talk.
|One of two cabins at Lillie Maho. Each cabin had two independent units with bath and kitchenette.|
I listened to them for several nights as they complained. They hated St. John and being at the guest house. No hot water, no TV, no phones, no radio. Nothing to do. Too much sand. Too much salt water. And all the bugs! Flying and creeping things all over the place.
Then one night one of them said something about "that girl" in the other room that ticked me off. Something had to be done.
At one time there had been a door between the rooms that was boarded over with a sheet of plywood. There was a space of about six inches between the floor and the bottom of the plywood.
I decided to give those boys something to be really frightened of.
When the lights went out in both rooms I stuck my hand through the space at the bottom of the door. I felt around, knowing that one of the beds was up against the wall which divided our rooms. I knew the foot of the bed was close to the door. I felt around until I got a hold of a corner of a sheet and slowly...very slowly, I began to pull.
There was an uproar when the boy in that bed started to feel his covers being pulled off.
"Something's pulling my sheet!"
Lights went on. Explorations were made around the bed. I had long since removed my hand and was sitting with my back to the wall trying to keep from laughing out loud.
Eventually the lights were turned off. They convinced each other it had only been the one kid's imagination.
But they didn't know, I was The Rotten Kid. I waited. After they were all settle down and dosing back off to sleep, I did it again. I pulled on the sheet.
"It's happening again! Something's pulling on my sheet!"
There were sounds of near hysteria. There was a scramble for the light switch. there were more useless explorations and a discussion about what was pulling the sheet. A rat was the most logical explanation. Horrors! A rat!
Satisfied that I had thoroughly demoralized those three scaredy-cat teen-aged boys I went back to bed quite satisfied with myself.
I'm sure they slept an unquiet sleep...with the light on.
The next day extra cots were moved into the unit so the boys could sleep with their parents and sisters. I no longer had to hear their whiny complaints.
Score one (or maybe three) for The Rotten Kid.
Ever pulled any stunts, played any harmless tricks?