Naked Under the Moon

"Aaaah-roooo!" came the yelp from out in Lake Michigan. It sounded like a wolf. No, a werewolf maybe. "Aaaah-roooo!" I was on the end of the Pratt Beach pier on Chicago's northeast side, part of Loyola Park. It was just past 10:00 p.m., and I was one of about 100 people enjoying the moonrise and pleasant weather. "Aaaah-roooo!" came another yelp. Squinting, we looked out into the darkness over the water but saw nothing. "Aaaah-roooo!" Was it somebody in a row boat, a canoe or kayak? I yelped back, "Aaaah-roooo!" "Aaaah-roooo!" came back, and suddenly dozens of people on the pier and the beach were howling like lunatics under the nearly full, bright orange moon. "Aaaah-roooo!" After about ten or fifteen minutes of this, we spotted a white head and shoulders swimming toward us. "Aaaah-roooo!" he called, and the crowd howled "Aaaah-roooo!" back in unison. The swimmer came into shallow water and stood, shirtless. He waded toward the beach and after a brief moment we realized that he was completely naked. "Aaaah-roooo!" he yelped one last time, then quickly donned shorts and shirt from a towel waiting for him on the sand. The moon continued its movement across the sky. It didn't seem to have noticed.