Fireworks And The Peeping Tom

When I was little like Caitlin I lived on 2nd Avenue in Sacramento California.

My house was a cute little white house with two bedrooms, one bath, 

a single car garage, pink azaleas and a huge tree in the backyard. 

My street was close to the old fair grounds so during the state fair I had huge fireworks every night right up in my same sky.

I got in a lot of trouble in those days and often found myself playing 

in my backyard alone. 

I was always given the same instructions: 

don't climb on the fence and don't pick the neighbors cherries. 

So as soon as I found myself bored silly the best thing I could think of to do 

was to climb that fence and pick the neighbors cherries.

One night during the fireworks my Papa King came off of the front porch 

where the grownups had been sitting and told me to come in the house. 

"Why Papa, the fireworks aren't done?" 

"Because there is a bad man hiding behind the telephone pole." He explained.

I came in the house. 

Papa followed the man and made a citizens arrest over by the County Hospital. 

My Papa was awesome, he was a California Highway Patrol Officer 

and he knew his stuff.

I guess Papa had arrested the same man that had been peeking in my window at night. 

Papa called that man a "Peeping Tom."

I could smell Toms cigarette and see the glow of it in the dark. 

I kept telling my daddy about Tom but when he would come in my room 

he said he couldn't see or smell anything. 

My window was always open to let fresh air in but I think that because my daddy smoked he couldn't smell as good as me.

I sure am glad my Papa caught Tom.

Papa never bawled me out for being naughty. 

I think it was because he was just like me.

Love,

Grammy T.