Quickbeam
Flashlight Enthusiast
My first attempt at fiction-style writing, but it's a true story. Enjoy!
Last week my wife and I were on vacation in Florida, staying at a relative's house. The house is a lovely little white ranch with brown tile roof, black shutters, and cement driveway, all surrounded by a lush bed of deep green St. Augustine grass. Against the foundation and in islands in the lawn are flowerbeds filled with common tropical flora and fresh brown Cyprus mulch. In the back, about 50 feet behind the house is the sea wall holding back the waters of the canal, which allows boat access to the calm waters of Tampa Bay. Looking along the canal's length you can see weathered, wooden docks with a variety of combustion engine and wind powered boats belonging to the always courteous, and mostly retired, neighbors. On Thursday night my wife and I decided to retire early and fell asleep to the lullaby of the warm West wind blowing the moist salt air through the whispering palms.
Around 1:00 AM both my wife and I awoke staring into the darkness, hearing a strange sound that was clear even over the blowing wind. I thought about it for a second and alarm changed to curiosity as realized I had never heard a noise quite like this one. It was as though someone was yelling in the distance next to a crying child. Even stranger was the sudden realization that the sound was coming from just outside our bedroom window! I sat on the edge of the bed for a second and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. Proceeding to the window I carefully opened the white vertical louvered curtains. There, sitting in the deep bed of grass, illuminated faintly by the cold moonlight in the clear night air I could see a very large and fluffy tiger-striped cat resting on it's belly beside the stone-edged flowerbed under the bedroom window. As I watched, it swiveled its head toward the window and gazed at me with its luminous amber eyes. It was sitting there yowling in apparent search for a companion, mate, or a territorial dispute, and in the process managed to wake us up from a deep, peaceful sleep.
Without another thought my hand sprang toward the Streamlight Scorpion on the nightstand. Having just put fresh batteries in the device and remembering that it had less than 2 seconds runtime on the cells, I knew that the initial surface charge of the lithium batteries would produce the most intense light possible from the high pressure xenon bulb for about 1 minute before dimming to it's normal levels.
I moved back to the window, Scorpion in hand, and peered back out into the darkness. The feline was still there, yammering away, intent upon its mission. I make enough noise as I moved the Scorpion into position behind the aluminum-framed glass that the cat once again swiveled its glowing eyes in my direction, pupils fully dilated. The intense bolt of white light from the Scorpion was the last thing it saw for the next several minutes. Night turned to day as the cat, grass, shrubs and flower garden nearby were bombarded with the energy of the little handheld powerhouse. Wincing in obvious discomfort the now visibly ragged and battle scarred feral cat stood, never opening it's eyes beyond a slit, and hastened away, deciding to continue it's cacophony elsewhere.
"What was it?" asked my wife sleepily. "Just a cat", I replied, while putting the Scorpion back on the nightstand where it could again be reached in a moment's notice. I returned to bed satisfied with the amazing performance of the little flashlight and pleased that something as simple as a brilliant light could deter the animal from continuing it's behavior without causing any more harm than a few very memorable afterimages on it's retina that would soon fade.
Last week my wife and I were on vacation in Florida, staying at a relative's house. The house is a lovely little white ranch with brown tile roof, black shutters, and cement driveway, all surrounded by a lush bed of deep green St. Augustine grass. Against the foundation and in islands in the lawn are flowerbeds filled with common tropical flora and fresh brown Cyprus mulch. In the back, about 50 feet behind the house is the sea wall holding back the waters of the canal, which allows boat access to the calm waters of Tampa Bay. Looking along the canal's length you can see weathered, wooden docks with a variety of combustion engine and wind powered boats belonging to the always courteous, and mostly retired, neighbors. On Thursday night my wife and I decided to retire early and fell asleep to the lullaby of the warm West wind blowing the moist salt air through the whispering palms.
Around 1:00 AM both my wife and I awoke staring into the darkness, hearing a strange sound that was clear even over the blowing wind. I thought about it for a second and alarm changed to curiosity as realized I had never heard a noise quite like this one. It was as though someone was yelling in the distance next to a crying child. Even stranger was the sudden realization that the sound was coming from just outside our bedroom window! I sat on the edge of the bed for a second and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. Proceeding to the window I carefully opened the white vertical louvered curtains. There, sitting in the deep bed of grass, illuminated faintly by the cold moonlight in the clear night air I could see a very large and fluffy tiger-striped cat resting on it's belly beside the stone-edged flowerbed under the bedroom window. As I watched, it swiveled its head toward the window and gazed at me with its luminous amber eyes. It was sitting there yowling in apparent search for a companion, mate, or a territorial dispute, and in the process managed to wake us up from a deep, peaceful sleep.
Without another thought my hand sprang toward the Streamlight Scorpion on the nightstand. Having just put fresh batteries in the device and remembering that it had less than 2 seconds runtime on the cells, I knew that the initial surface charge of the lithium batteries would produce the most intense light possible from the high pressure xenon bulb for about 1 minute before dimming to it's normal levels.
I moved back to the window, Scorpion in hand, and peered back out into the darkness. The feline was still there, yammering away, intent upon its mission. I make enough noise as I moved the Scorpion into position behind the aluminum-framed glass that the cat once again swiveled its glowing eyes in my direction, pupils fully dilated. The intense bolt of white light from the Scorpion was the last thing it saw for the next several minutes. Night turned to day as the cat, grass, shrubs and flower garden nearby were bombarded with the energy of the little handheld powerhouse. Wincing in obvious discomfort the now visibly ragged and battle scarred feral cat stood, never opening it's eyes beyond a slit, and hastened away, deciding to continue it's cacophony elsewhere.
"What was it?" asked my wife sleepily. "Just a cat", I replied, while putting the Scorpion back on the nightstand where it could again be reached in a moment's notice. I returned to bed satisfied with the amazing performance of the little flashlight and pleased that something as simple as a brilliant light could deter the animal from continuing it's behavior without causing any more harm than a few very memorable afterimages on it's retina that would soon fade.
