Christopher had been at a friend’s house playing board games all afternoon and they had simply lost track of time. Now Chris had to walk nearly two miles to get home later than usual. He just hoped that his mother would not be angry that he would be late for supper. Chris decided to take a short cut through Hillside Park to save several blocks walking but the park gate was locked. He tried the gate farther uphill but found it closed too. That left only one open path for him unless he wanted to walk all the way around the west side of the park, adding about twenty minutes to his travel.

The only short cut left was through the Hillside Cemetery, but he hated to walk there at night. He decided he didn’t have a choice since the sky was darkening rapidly and black clouds began to block the light of the red-tinted October half-moon. He got to the gate of the cemetery, at first thinking it was closed too, but pushed hard and the six foot high iron grate creaked open. He zipped up his jacket as a brisk wind swept brown autumn leaves past in a swirl. He started into the grave yard.

Chris could see his way along the winding path in the moonlight. When a cloud crossed the moon, everything went dark and he had to stop, waiting until the light came back and he could see again. As he waited for the moonlight to return he could hear the wind blowing through the trees. He could also hear other noises in the dark, animal noises. In fact, he could hear something scuffling on the path right in front of him. This was not the sort of thing a ten year old boy wants to think about as he stands stock-still in a darkened graveyard.

The moon was released from its shroud and Chris saw the ringed tail of a raccoon scuttle off the trail about fifteen feet ahead of him. He breathed a sigh of relief and began to walk as fast as he could without breaking into a run. He went deeper along the cemetery trail, trying to cross as much ground as he could before he lost the light again. He looked up and saw that a large cloud approached the moon and he would soon be plunged into darkness. Then the wind came up, blowing dust and leaves into his face and everything went black.

He stopped on the spot, not wanting to trip over anything, like a gravestone or raccoon or anything else that went bump in the night. As he stood there he realized there was a faint sliver of light sneaking past the thickest part of the cloud. There wasn’t enough light to actually see anything, just enough to see patterns of gray and to sense that something was there. A faint flutter and a wisp of air seemed to pass over his head, causing the hair on the back of his neck to rise. He held his breath and listened while slowly turning around to see what caused the sound. As he did so he felt as though he was not alone, more a sense that something or someone was nearby. Then as the moonlight came slowly back he saw it! Just a short distance away he saw the silhouette of a large, square head formed against the moonlight. And in the head he saw two large yellow eyes!

Chris backed up in reaction, stepping off the trail and tripping over a low headstone. He screeched as he went over backward and landed on leaf-strewn grass. “Jeez!” was all he had time to say.

The moon came out fully and Chris looked up from his vulnerable position to see who had confronted him in the dark. He saw the square shape and the large widespread eyes. Then a disembodied voice called out. “Hoo! Hoo! Hooo!” and Chris’s skin went cold.

Then he understood. He was looking right at it only about a dozen feet away. A great horned owl with its large feathered head with ear-like tufts or horns perched on top of a tall, narrow monument. It rotated its head to look directly at him. With his heart in his mouth, breathing like a race horse and adrenaline rushing through his body, Chris saw that it was just an owl. He breathed out and said, “You sure as shit scared the Hell out of me!” He started to laugh at himself.

Chris pulled himself up carefully onto the headstone to catch his breath, trying not to scare the owl away. He talked to the owl, “What are you doing here, old boy? Are you out huntin’ tonight?”

The owl blinked his eyes slowly, turned his head a quarter turn and repeated, “Hoo! Hoo!” Chris smiled and did the same. “Hoo! Hoo!” and the owl swiveled his head back to look at Chris. The yellow eyes focused right on Chris’s eyes and he said again. “Hoo! Hoo!” But now Chris thought he heard, “Who? Who? Who are you?”

He repeated, “Who am I? Why I’m Christopher John Walker. Pleased to meet you, Mr. Owl. Who are you?”

The owl just looked at him, staying focused on his eyes. The eyes seemed to penetrate into Chris and probe into his very nature. At first the stare made Chris nervous, but then he stared back just as intently. It seems that the two of them had an understanding, some mutual insight into each other’s being. Insight into their souls. It felt strange to Chris but also comfortable at the same time. Like they were friends or something. He felt he understood the owl and sympathized with it. He had never had that feeling before except with his Mom and Dad on some occasions.

It said again, “Hoo! Hoo! Who are you?” and Chris wondered aloud. “Who am I? Who will I become?” It felt strange to be sitting out in the night in a graveyard having a one-way conversation with an owl. But it was not one-way, was it? He knew what the wise old bird wanted even though it did not speak.

Then the moon went dark. Chris was not afraid now because he was not alone. He felt that he was comfortable with the darkness and only waited for the light to return. There was a flutter of quiet wings and a light breeze lifted a few hairs on his head. He felt as though some energy passed through him. When the moon came back, his friend was no longer there on the monument. But Chris was not alone. He sat for a minute and considered the feeling. He got up and walked carefully along the trail. Now even when the moon was partly obscured, he could see well enough to find his way. He reached the other side of the cemetery, went out the gate and was on familiar sidewalks again.

As he walked he asked himself the owl’s question. Who are you Christopher Walker? Who will you become? Will you do good? Will you do evil? The questions were new to him and he thought about them in his bed before he fell asleep. He saw the owl in his dreams during the night. He knew that his friend, the owl, wanted to know these things because he was concerned. What kind of man would he be? Only time would tell.