“Wap!”  There was a smooth, swift slap to my backside.  It was my tenth birthday and I was in trouble again.  I had thought it was going to be the perfect day, but I was wrong. 

            The trouble all started in the morning—like in most other stories.  I had awakened at 6:00, staring at the ceiling and thinking of what I would do that day.  Then I quickly put on my clothes and snuck down the steps.  I ran wildly out my door, but not too loudly, so my parents would not get up.  I jogged down the street in my fuzzy black cap and red sneakers.  Soon, I had reached the house of Jerico, my best friend at the time, and I climbed up his home’s white columns.  I stepped out on top of his eave, took out the sharp knife hidden under the shutters, and picked his window open.  He lay there on the bed drooling on his pillow as if he were a starving man dreaming of a feast.  I climbed through the window and shook him fiercely.  Amazingly, he awoke on the first shake, and I walked into his bathroom while he was getting dressed.  He questioned me:  “WHEN did YOU get up?”

            “Around 6:00, I guess,” I explained.

            Then we walked down his stairs without a railing and came to a steep edge at the end.  From there, Jerico and I went into his kitchen, and he poured us some orange juice.  Then Jerico’s mother walked into the kitchen and asked me to go to the living room for a few minutes, and I quickly obeyed.  (You don’t want to get on her bad side, if you know what I mean). So I walked into the beautiful-as-always living room and relaxed a little.  In their living room, Jerico’s family had nice black leather couches on top of a black carpet with a multi-colored floral design and a white wall with pink flower border and the same color shades.  In the corner there was a big end table with a big TV in the middle.  On top there was a DVD player along with a VHS player and a recorder.  At the bottom was an X-box, Playstation, and a nice silver radio.  On the walls there were beautiful pictures and hanging plants.  There also was a connected back room that held a computer and that was used as an office. 

            Jerico soon came into his living room as I was watching his TV, and he hollered, “Let’s go!”  So I quickly hopped up and ran out the door with him.  We raced down the road to the nearby rocky river which was very large.  There was a park there, between the river and a hill, with a road that led us under a bridge.  Jerico spotted a tiny, separate trail that was slightly hidden by trees.  “Come on, let’s follow it!” demanded Jerico.

            “I don’t know,” I replied anxiously.

            “Why, are you scared?” chanted Jerico.

            “No,” I lied, and then he took me by the arm and pulled me roughly through the trees after him.  Ahead it was dark and I did not want to go any further, so I blurted, “I can’t see!”

            “That’s okay, I have a flashlight,” explained Jerico humorously.

            “That boy has everything,” I thought to myself, and we kept going.  It turned out, however, that Jerico did NOT have a flashlight, and, after we had been walking for about fifteen minutes, Jerico surprisingly blurted, “ Well, at least we are not lost since I am following the river!”

            “Wow, smart, I’d never have thought of that,” I added sarcastically.

            “I know,” replied Jerico, just as sarcastically.

            Soon, however, we spotted a smaller bridge with a lot of graffiti on it.  From the looks of the graffiti, there were obviously many gangs around, and that made me very uncomfortable.

            “Boo!” screamed Jerico suddenly.

            “Ahhh!” I screamed in response.

 Then I just took off--with Jerico chasing after me. About one minute later, Jerico caught up to me and we both stopped.  He was laughing and I thought that my heart was about to pop out of my chest.  Shaking, I questioned, “What was that for?”

            “A little fun,” replied Jerico, still laughing.

            “Well, I’m not having fun,” I chirped.

            “I know, and I’m sorry,” lied Jerico. 

            “Yeah, whatever!” I declared.

            “Hey, let’s go,” directed Jerico again, and so I thought about whether I wanted to go home and do nothing or continue exploring with my friend and maybe have some fun eventually.  Once more, I decided I would follow along.

            Not long after, Jerico observed, from up ahead on his trail, “Hey, look, a cat!”  His face lit up, like a light bulb on a Christmas tree, with the excitement of having discovered another interesting distraction.  “Really!” shouted Jerico.

            “Yeah, but it could have rabies, and I don’t want to die,” I preached.

            “So what, it won’t catch us,” smirked Jerico.

            “Okay, but, if it does, it’s your fault,” I warned.

            “Fine,” lied Jerico.

            “But what if it’s faster than we are?” I pointed out.

            “Then we will run even faster,” suggested Jerico logically.

            “Okay, let’s try to get a closer look,” I added.

            We both ran wildly after the cat then, and the pursued feline led us jumping over a rock—before it just stopped in its tracks, seeming to dare us.  Jerico jumped the same rock as the cat, and then, as I also jumped, I slipped badly.  Jerico quickly helped me up, but, by the time I stood, the cat was on another rock already, and I suddenly discovered that I had a large cut that went to the bone. 

Nevertheless, we both continued to run after the big cat, but without jumping any more little boulders.  Instead, we veered around them and, amazingly, beat the cat to the dry river bed.

Then, abruptly, the cat lunged at Jerico.  I quickly picked up a sharp stick and hit the cat until it finally fell off my friend.

Later, as we walked home, I thanked Jerico for helping me when I was down and hurt; he likewise thanked me for saving him from the animal attack.  We had both learned that friends are always there when you need them.

Back at my house, I covered up my cut.  It was 5:30 p.m. by then, and my parents had not known where I was, but I told Jerico to go home as I could “take care of it”—or so I thought.

Obviously, I did not do as good a job as I had thought I might “taking care of things” with my parents, since I soon found myself being punished by the two of them.  The day had turned out to be anything but a typical birthday, but, even after my painful injury and almost equally painful punishment, it had still been one of the best days of my life.