Summer Nights



You wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. You are naked and it is hot. You remember that the power went out in the storm a few hours ago so your air conditioning doesn’t work. You can still hear thunder in the distance. The wind is still blowing wildly, and the tree outside your open window is scratching against it. You’re thinking about asking your sister if you can stay at her house until the damn people at Ameron get the lines fixed, since she still has power.

You see light coming from an unknown direction, even though the power is out on your street. As it gets closer, you realize it is an orange strobe from a vehicle. You hope it’s a utility truck from the power company. You then hear an eerie, high-pitched buzz through the screen of the open window. As it hovers closer, your room is flooded and bathed in an orange light. You nervously pull your covers up and almost start to hide your head under them. Another light shines through your window and you hear the buzz, much louder this time, as if the source is inches from your window screen.

Your county sends to sets of trucks to your subdivision every year. In the winter, they send the salt trucks with their flashing orange lights. In the summer, the Animal and Vector Control Agency sends mosquito trucks. Both always seem to come around when the power is out, either from a snow storm or a thunder storm, respectively.

You wake up the next morning to find that the power is back on. That was actually pretty fast for them. It usually takes them a couple days. After you finish breakfast you realize your dog hasn’t come to greet you yet. You then remember that you left her out in the back yard, but she isn’t there either. You search all over and even put up posters. You never find her.