The Loud Night

The Loud Night
By Ron Buedefeldt

The night was unusually loud.  James couldn’t sleep. There must be a million frogs sitting right outside his window.  Maybe even a hundred million frogs.  And a whole bunch of hoot owls adding their bass note to the noise.  James could hear crickets too.  Thousands of them. 

Probably enough crickets to cover the whole lawn if they wanted to.  James couldn’t think of why they would want to.  There were just enough of them to do that if they did want to.

James turned on his lamp and tried reading a book.  It was a very good book.  It was about the forest.  He read a sentence.  He was halfway through another sentence when it just got too loud to read.  Who could read with all that racket outside?  James closed his book. 

The frogs were getting louder.  The hoot owls were getting louder.  The crickets were getting louder.  And now James could hear coyotes.  They sounded like they were right in James’ yard.  And even they were getting louder.  How could anyone concentrate with all this racket?

James went to his desk and got his pencil and paper.  If he couldn’t read, then he would write.  He would write a letter.  He wrote his name.  He wrote his address.  He was about to write “Dear Aunt June,” when it just got too noisy to even write. 

James put away his pencil.  He put away his paper.  James couldn’t do anything with all this noise.  And it was getting louder.

James went to his window and pulled back the curtains.  He leaned his head out the window.  The noise from all the hundred million frogs and the dozens of hoot owls and the thousands of crickets and all the coyotes in his yard was so loud that James could barely think.

“Excuse me,” said James very politely.  “It’s very late, you know.  Could you all please be quieter?”

The frogs stopped croaking.  The hoot owls stopped hooting.  The crickets stopped chirping.  And the coyotes stopped howling.

James climbed back into bed and turned out his lamp.  He lay and he tossed and he turned.  He turned and he tossed.  He even tried counting sheep.  Finally he turned his lamp back on and opened up his book. 

It was just too quiet to sleep.