The steps to stealing a canoe are simple:

1. Wait until nightfall
2. Dress in all black
3. Wear a wig
4. SPRINT YOUR ASS

It was the end of me and Courtney’s road trip to Florida, and I thought we’d be home that night. Instead of going east to Virginia, we veered west for Knoxville to commit a petty crime.

Courtney and I crouched behind the neighbor’s bushes after darting from car to car to hide ourselves. I hadn’t snuck around a neighborhood in all black since I was a kid switching the Republican and Democrat yard signs.

Using our hands as binoculars, we spotted the canoe laying in the yard directly under a floodlight. It was past midnight, but the boys were awake. We could hear them playing music in their studio that was actually just a shed they smoked weed in. If they looked out the window, we would be seen, no doubt.

The canoe we sought to steal was partially Courtney’s. Her ex-boyfriend kept their “shared” canoe at his house, 435 miles away from where Courtney lived. Not an easy thing to share when it’s so far away. Stealing the canoe was a form of revenge.

Nobody breaks up with my best friend over text without consequences!

Sprinting forward from bush to tree, we edged closer. Pressing our backs flat against the brick house, I peeked around the driveway to make sure the coast was clear. To our disadvantage, there were five cars and two motorcycles parked in front of the fence. How we were going to maneuver the canoe around the maze of vehicle was beyond me.

Before I could step forward, Courtney grabbed my arm and whispered, “Wait, I have to tell the truth.”

The truth was Courtney never did pay her $50 share for the canoe.

“So it’s his canoe,” I said, crossing my arms.

“He never would have never known about the deal if I hadn’t told him,” she reasoned.

“So we’re actually stealing?” I said, rubbing my forehead.

The lines on Courtney’s face softened and she giggled. She raised her eyebrows and said, “We’re criminals, Beth.”

“Damn! I mean I’m still down to help steal it, but c’mon, I need all of the information,” I whispered back, stuffing my hand in my mouth to quiet the fit of giggles.

Like the spies we were, we hit the pavement and army crawled to the closest car for cover. Courtney braved crawling through the open space to open the fence’s gate with minimal squeaking.

There was no turning back now. The time for tip toeing and hiding was over. We sprinted our asses into the yard under the floodlight. I ran to the furthest side of the canoe and grabbed the handle while Courtney waited on the other side.

We silently mouthed to each other, “One, two, three” and lifted the canoe. Moving as fast and as silent as we could, we easily made it through the gate and less easily turned it sideways to squeeze between two cars and a motorcycle. My hip nudged the motorcycle and it wobbled.

Courtney looked at me with eyes that said, ‘I’ll kill you’ and I looked at the motorcycle with those same eyes. Magically, it straightened itself and did not crash to the ground.

“Go, go!” I whisper screamed, and we were off, shuffling our feet down the driveway and into the street. By the time we passed the mailbox, I couldn’t help it. I started giggling uncontrollably. My finger strength started to slip. My feet were stumbling over each other. My giggles were getting louder and louder.

“Beth, get it together!” Courtney said through gritted teeth.

“I need a break,” I complained, wanting to set the canoe down.

“Beth, we are right outside of his house! Sprint your ass!” 

Swallowing my laughter, I summoned all of strength to continue carrying the canoe through the street at a run shuffle pace. When we made it to the car, we lifted the canoe and haphazardly tied it to the roof. 

“We did it! Okay, let’s go!” I said, dashing toward the driver’s seat.

Courtney’s face suddenly looked very serious. She stared at me, took a deep breath and said, “Beth, I want to talk to him.”

“What do you mean? Are you serious? What do you want to talk about?” I asked, rattling questions off so fast I sucked in a big gulp of air. 

“We came all this way, I can’t be in the same state as him and not say something.”

“Sure you can,” I said, but she was already shaking her head no.

“Oh man, oh man, oh man,” I chuckled. “What are you gonna say?”

“Well, it all happened so fast. The breakup. I didn’t even get to say anything back. If I call him, maybe he’ll come get in the boat with me. I at least want to be friends. I miss him as a friend,” she said.

Pacing back and forth, I listened with my hands on my hips. When she was done, I stopped and turned toward her and said, “Okay, so let me get this straight. We successfully stole the canoe. We could strap it on and drive away like thieves in the night. We could not get caught. Instead, you want to call him, tell him we stole the canoe, take it to the river, unload it in the water without a paddle, hold it hostage until he comes, and ask him to get in the boat with you. Courtney…are you telling me this whole canoe stealing heist…is about friendship?”

“Beth, it’s always been about friendship,” she said, throwing her hands up in the air. 

“Heist to heart? Wow!” I shouted and fist pumped the air above my head.  

“Shhh!” she said, covering my mouth and looking around.

“Let’s get this boat to the river,” I said, hopping in the front seat. Driving no more than 6 MPH to the water, I prayed the canoe would not fall off. We sent the dude a ransom text that said: WE STOLE YOUR CANOE. BRING A PADDLE TO THE RIVER TO RETRIEVE.

While driving I made up a song that just kept repeating the same phrase over and over again: “We’re on the road to friendship!” 

The Tennessee River is huge. I mean gigantic. In the dark, I squinted but couldn’t see the other side. A boat caught my eye and my mouth dropped. It was a barge, bigger than any boat I ever expected to travel down a “river.” Courtney was busy unstrapping the canoe while I stood at the banks of an enormous body of water.

“I can’t push you off into this river without a paddle in the dark. You’ll die,” I said, pointing to the cruise ship sized boat and the current bringing it downstream. We agreed to leave the boat on shore next to the water.

To my surprise, the dude showed up a few minutes later, so I hid in the bushes. After awhile that got uncomfortable, so I ran back to the car, which is when I remembered that I had fireworks from South Carolina in the trunk!

If I could be close enough to hear what they were saying, or at least see them, I could position myself to light off fireworks as soon as they leaned in for a celebratory smooch. I know Courtney said “friendship,” but as soon as that dude lays eyes on her beauty, he’ll want to get back together. I just know it.

Fireworks are the perfect way to celebrate! Add another crime onto the list for the night, why not?

After twenty minutes of waiting and not really being able to see or hear them, I went back to my car and promptly fell asleep. It was past 2:00 a.m. afterall.

A honk woke me up. It was Courtney and the dude. They motioned for me to follow them back to his house. Turning on the engine, I wondered what happened, then sadly remembered the unlit fireworks. Hopping back out of the car, I collected the fireworks I left in the grass and threw them in the trunk. We left the canoe by the water.

Parking outside the dude’s house, he led us around the backyard that we just trespassed in to his weed smoking “music studio” shed. He set us up with blankets and pillows, which I took as the first bad sign.

As soon as the door shut and the dude wished us goodnight, I whipped my head toward Courtney, eager for a play by play.

“Beth,” she said, shaking her head. She took a deep breath and said, “That did not go well.”

“What happened?” I asked.

“I spoke my truth. I was honest, I told him how I felt really sad. I told him I missed him and wanted to be his friend. And Beth…” Courtney put her hand over her eyes. “He was so awkward. SO awkward, Beth.”

“What do you mean? How?” I asked.

“In the middle of me saying all this…he made a fart sound. With his mouth.”

That sentence lingered in the air between us and my mouth hung open. Courtney stuck her tongue out and made a fart sound with her lips, spraying spit on my arm.

“No,” I shook my head in disbelief.

“I cannot make this up,” she said solemnly.

My laughter exploded into the room like a bottle rocket. Rolling from side to side, I laughed so hard that I stopped making any noise at all. Courtney was giggling so much she started slapping the ground with her hand. Eventually our laughter slowed down long enough to catch our breath. 

“So what’s the move tomorrow? Get up and get out of here?” I asked.

“Oh, yeah. Yep. Yes.”

“What about the canoe? Do we get to keep it?” I asked.

“Oh we’re keeping it alright,” she said.

“Well that’s good, at least we have a canoe now,” I said, laying back on my pillow. 

“Well, we have a canoe for three months. Then we have to give it back,” Courtney sighed.

“Oh, does he have a big trip planned?” I asked.

Courtney looked me dead in the eyes and said, “He wants to use the canoe to take a shirtless picture in front of it for his first album cover.”

“Oh…so he’s a phony,” I said.

“He’s a phony!” Courtney shouted. “He doesn’t even want to canoe with it!” 

I didn’t think I could be more surprised than the fart noise. 

“We are going to give this canoe such a better life,” I declared, shaking my head. 

It was 2018, the summer that Courtney fell in love. But not with a dumb boy.

That summer wan’t about fireside feelings with the phony. Instead of the adventure partner she wanted, Courtney found the adventure. The love of her life reveled itself the second she sat her ass down in the canoe and learned how to navigate white water.