Snowballs

“Let’s throw snowballs at cars.  Mom’s not home so we won’t get in trouble.”  

It was 9AM and school had been unexpectedly cancelled because of a winter storm.  Will and I were eating cereal while plotting our day’s plans.  The pristine fresh snow glowed with possibilities. 

Will was my sworn best friend.  Like many 9-year-old duos, we spent magical days exploring our world.  We lived in a small, rural, close-knit town, population about 100.  Most everyone knew each other, and people felt comfortable leaving their doors unlocked at night.

“We can hide behind the sign in front of the church.  C’mon!  It’s perfect packing snow!”

Will solemnly nodded, committed to partner in these hijinks.  Trudging purposefully through the snow, like penguins in our thick layered winter clothes, we made our way to the church adjacent to my home.

The small church was situated on a 90-degree corner, a point where cars were forced to slow down.  The church itself stood towering over the road.  It was on top of a hill with a brick walkway, now covered in ice, leading from the road to the church. 

We assembled our arsenal of snowballs and placed them on the ground, just behind the church sign.  Then we took our hiding places out of view from the road. 

After about 10 minutes, we heard the sound of crunching ice on the road, getting louder and louder.  And the sound of a car engine.  Here we go!  It was hard to even pick up the snowball because I was already laughing so hard.

We sprang, snowballs in hand, from behind the sign to see a white compact car creeping along the road, rounding into the corner. 

I took aim and threw as hard as I could .  Will did the same.  ‘PFFT PFFT PFFFFT’, snowballs exploded into tiny white clouds against the driver’s side door.  I belly laughed, tears rolling down my cheeks, trouble catching my breath from the laughter.

Then brakes screeched and the car skidded to a stop.  Then the high pitched engine’s whir as the car, now in reverse gear, backed up to us.  This was the reaction we were looking for.

The door flew open and a young man exited, eyes squinting to see us through the snow’s reflection.  Confident that he would remain next to his car, we continued to laugh while he scolded us about being irresponsible.  But then he started walking towards us.  Then running towards us.  Will and I locked eyes.

“Oh shiiiiit!!” I screamed and started running as fast as I could away from this man.

It feels like we ran a mile, finally stopping in a brushy area behind my house.  We had lost him.  Belly laughter resumed.  We had won this battle against the adult world, adults who always took things too damned seriously.  We were happy with ourselves for the rest of the day. 

And Mom never did find out.