Our Maine Street's Aroostook Issue 13 : Summer 2012 | Page 29

leaving that establishment, if we were feeling particularly energetic, we would walk the extra mile or more to Blotner Trailer Sales the site of the present day Aroostook Centre Mall. Walking through the mobile homes, we imagined the style and decor we might want for our future home. Finally, our feet weary, we made our way back to our home street and decided at whose place we would spend the night. We alternated our sleep over from week to week. Clearly, there were advantages to staying at Martha’s. Her parents were older than mine and slept downstairs away from the main part of the house, while Martha’s bedroom was on the second floor. This logistical advantage played perfectly in our master scheme. Upstairs, we listened to our 45’s and our 33 albums, shared our dreams for the future and waited. Midnight...the magic hour finally arrived. Excitedly, we left Martha’s room, walked to the second-floor landing and listened. The only sound we heard was soft snoring from where her parents slept in the bedroom below. Stealthily we made our way down the wooden stairs careful to avoid the spots where we knew there were squeaks in the boards. We paused occasionally to make sure no sounds of wakefulness emerged from below. At the bottom of our descent, the front door came into view and ever-so-quietly Martha turned the knob and we exited the house. As soon as our rubber-soled sneakers made contact with the pavement, we began to giggle – another successful getaway. With no clear destination in mind, we strolled our familiar neighborhood streets enjoying the quiet of night. The sounds of peepers could be heard along with the occasional bark of a dog and the buzz of insects. Once in a while, a brown bat would swoop close enough to cause a reactionary flailing of our arms as we frantically fought to ward the nocturnal flying mammal away. In our small, rural community, the stars were clearly visible with no high-rise buildings blocking out their light and every now and then, we were afforded the rare privilege to cast our wish on a shooting star. At this juncture, I would like to point out that our attire was rather suspect in that we were clad in long, flannel nightgowns and carried our coveted Benson & Hedges cigarettes with us. While neither of us smoked, it was part of the facade we adopted and no laws existed at that time specifying an age limit for purchasing tobacco products. And so, we ambled down street after street, allowing our cigarette to burn on its own, enjoying the aroma. Surroundings appeared much different in the nighttime, softer and less defined in some ways. The orb of the lunar body provided all the light that we needed, our shadows cast on the pavement as we sauntered along verbalizing our thoughts. Houses took on a warmer appearance as the amber light showed through windows devoid of curtains. The needle-bearing fir and spruce trees appeared as black silhouettes against the backdrop of night,while the leaves of the birch and maple rustled softly with the slight summer breeze. There was a distinct, sweet perfume to the summer air, one that could in no way be duplicated by commercial production. During our strolls, conversation was steady and our voices low yet not quite in a whisper. While the phrase “coming of age” was not one with which we were yet familiar, indeed we were truly in the throes of exactly that. Never before had we experienced these observations or sensations nor would we in the same way ever again. We shared issues typical of teenaged girls of that time, with subjects ranging from boys to siblings, parents and what we wanted to do when we grew up. We were not however in the age of electronics. The IBM electric typewriter with the round element would be the precursor to more sophisticated office machines to come. Our corner store still sold penny candy including the red-waxed lips, Kool-Aid filled straws, candy necklaces and much more. With only a nickel in our pocket, we were able to enjoy the sweet commercialized treats. For us, it was a magical time in which to be alive. One of our favorite walking routes took us up a long, winding driveway lined with mature evergreen trees. Our destination was a secluded old structure, Victorian in style – one of the local funeral homes. We seemed to be inexplicably drawn to the site week after week. What we considered daring was to peer into the basement windows, our imaginations reeling with thoughts of what we might see lurching in the dark abyss. In all our attempts, never did we witness any fearsome foes. In fact, only one time did we experience any fearful event at that location. As we prepared to end our walk on this particular sultry summer evening, whatever subject we were discussing caused us to be laughing when we rounded the corner from the funeral home preparing to walk down the paved driveway when headlights were upon us. Reacting quickly, we grabbed each other’s hands, our laughter abruptly ceased and we took cover as we dropped to the dew-soaked lawn where we lay flat at the base of one of the large spruce trees. The vehicle, as it turned out, was clearly marked with the emblem of a local police cruiser. We literally held our breath as the cruiser made several passes up and down the driveway before finally leaving. After a reasonable length of time, we rose up from our hiding place, nightgowns wet from the damp grass and in a somewhat shaken state we cautiously made our way back to our home street. With the same stealth that we exercised during our earlier exit, we now re-entered through the front doorway, walked up the creaky steps and exhaled in great relief once in the safety of Martha’s room. Those midnight strolls were, without question, the highlight of our summer evenings and were made known to our parents (to their horror) only many years later. During that brief period of summer school break however, we made the most of the vacation with simple activities that were memorable and helped sculpt the women we are today. Summer of course would not have been complete without a visit to the Northern Maine Fair in August, traditionally signifying the end of the school break. With a maximum of ten dollars in our pocket, we would walk from our street to the fairgrounds, whic