Yermo

Long ago in Lamar a crime wave ran through the town, a theft of street signs. Done in the late night hours people would wake up without the reminder of where they lived. Cars turned down unidentified streets. Chaos and mayhem spread from east to west, north to south. Luckily we still gave directions according to landmarks like the stinky tower, Taco Johns, the old house on 3rd street, and the large dip. No one got lost but I think the town felt slightly violated, like an old man victim to practical jokes.

It was in the not-so-late night hours that I learned of the culprits. My friend Austin called to chat and told me of the plan to get the Austin Rd. street sign. It involved a complex walking route. Austin lived a few miles out of town to the northwest and Austin Rd., about a mile from my home, was located outside of town to the southeast.

Austin and Justin, who lived much closer, planned to stay at Austin’s house. They would sneak out in the middle of the night and walk the long distance to unbolt the sign and run back. I failed to see the beauty of it all because I was mentally calculating the time involved. When I voiced my opinion Austin answered in true teenage boy fashion.

“I’ll prove it to you,” he said. “We’ll leave something on your basketball court. Go look on Saturday morning.”

When Saturday arrived I stumbled out of bed more interested in breakfast than the breaking news of crime. Until my mom mentioned there was a note for me outside. On the cement of our half court someone had used rocks to spell out BRE and artistically placed the metal adjusting pole beside it. I laughed in amazement. It must have taken some time to pick up enough rocks to make letters that big and I wondered how long the journey took.

Austin called me later that day after he woke up. He wanted to know if I’d received the message. He also told me that they had thrown rocks at my window trying to wake me up, but got spooked because my bedroom was next to my parents.

He also confessed that they had spent the night at Justin’s house. I guess they’d tried to walk into town the previous night and realized it took too long.

Now I use street signs constantly, I have no memory the various houses to turn by. One significant sign was recently enhanced and I find myself plotting a late night theft.