Time Night
    
I lie in bed, listening. Suddenly, a “Meooow” comes through the open window. I jump out of bed, slip my shoes on, and meow back. I tiptoe down three flights of stairs and head into the playroom. I climb out of a window—oiled the day before so it slides easily and doesn’t creak—and out into the moonlight. I meow again, and a familiar “Meoow” answers.
    
About the meowing: in literature class we read The Adventures of Tom Sawyer. In it, Tom and his friend Huck Finn meow to each other as a signal. My friend Kate and I thought that would be a good idea to do for Time Nights. The first time, I meowed so quietly, she didn’t hear me!
    
“Jaime!” I turn. Kate is walking toward me dragging a washing machine box behind her. I walk over to the box, climb in, and help Kate over the rim. She pushes the button, and everything sort of just melts away.

Then I look around and realize we are in ancient Egypt! We climb out of our box and look at each other. We are dressed like ancient Egyptian peasant girls!

Just then, a mean-looking man pops up behind us. “Where’s the water?” he growls.

We look behind him and see hundreds of men working on a pyramid. We take some jars we find in the box and bring them to the men. I see two men talking to each other away from the others, and we sneak closer.

“Where will you get it from?” one asks.

“I’ve already got it, see?” The other takes a dagger out of his loincloth thing. “As soon as he’s in range, I’ll do it, then put it in someone else’s hands.” The man puts the dagger away and heads for some water.

By sundown, we have forgotten about the murder plot—until it actually happens! The man stabs another man’s back, then thrusts the dagger into my hands.

Kate pulls me toward the box, the workers are gaining on us, we get into the box, flip a switch—and we’re home.