From the corner of my eye, I spotted Felicia Cogburn, Mrs. Mayor, and her husband, gesticulating energetically, their faces smiling in that way they had of disagreeing before the mayor’s constituents. She glanced toward the fireworks and back to the parking lot. The lot was now full to overflowing, trucks and cars alike were plowing into the scrub, creating spaces where none had existed before. Hopefully, one or two of the trucks had their winch attachments ’cause some of these folks were going to be stuck.
We set up our chairs and plunked down into them as if we’d done a month’s worth of dishes, or at least Senora Mari and I did. Uncle Eddie, on the other hand, set up the camp stove and went back for the propane. “He knows we’re here for only a couple of hours, right?”
“Why ask why?” Aunt Linda said with a laugh, as she made her way back to the F150. I hadn’t seen them pack the truck, but I should have known. If anyone could turn a simple outing into a food fiesta, they could. Sure enough, my aunt returned with a card table which she set up, complete with tablecloth, basket of napkins, plastic red, white, and blue plates, and the watermelon. She even produced Dr Peppers and cheese sticks.
“You going to cut that with your teeth?” Senora Mari asked with a grin. She cared for Aunt Linda, her daughter-in-law, deep down, but on the outside she enjoyed giving her the what for.
“Nope.” Uncle Eddie produced a long, serrated knife and carefully, without tearing through the paper tablecloth, sliced the snake melon into rings of delicious, cold sweetness.
“Josie!” Mrs. Cogburn was making her way toward me in a hurry, snaking her way through the brush, only once stumbling on a rock. “There you are!”
“Yes, ma’am. What can I do for you?”
A deep frown blazed across the middle-aged beauty’s forehead. “You can find out why the fireworks are late.”
The mayor arrived only a second behind. “Josie’s not on duty, honey bucket.”
I’d never heard Cogburn use that endearment, and it was plain as the narrowing of her eyes she didn’t care for it one bit. Made me wonder if it was an intentional jab. Made me wonder if he’d had one too many celebratory beers.
“She doesn’t mind helping when there’s work to be done.” She patted my shoulder. “Do you, hon?”
“Yip.”
I glared at Lenny, but he merely smiled.
“How can I help?” I stood, trying not to sigh at my short-lived downtime.
“Find that friend of Linda’s—Frank what’s his name—and ask him when he’s going to get this show on the road.”
“Why don’t you ask him yourself?” Senora Mari asked.
Mrs. Mayor rolled her eyes. “Well, I sent Mr. Mayor, but he came back empty-handed.”
“He wasn’t there.” Mr. Mayor’s smile hit the road, leaving behind an ugly slash.
I glanced at Uncle Eddie, who looked at me hopefully. He needed so badly to stay on the good side of the town council and Mayor Cogburn. How could I refuse? “Sure,” I said.
“Yip, yip, yip.”
“Oh, sweetie puppy likes the idea.” Mrs. Cogburn bent down and patted Lenny’s head.
“Yip,” Lenny complained, not impressed by his new nickname.
“Let’s go, Lenny.”
“Thanks so much, Josie. Folks are getting restless.”
I stole a moment to observe the crowd around me. I couldn’t say they were restless. I heard a guitar strumming, kids playing, a baby crying, the sound of savory meat over an open fire, and most of all the sound of laughter and warm conversation.
“Be back in a minute.”
Lenny and I made our way, weaving through the crowd, barely avoiding others’ vittles. At one picnic blanket, Lenny rose on his hind legs and begged for a spare rib. At another, he begged for a drumstick. Finally I scooped him into my arms. “Enough. Or I’ll have to start calling you Tubby.”
It took much longer to walk from the demarcated viewing area for the crowd than it first appeared it would. Instead of one football field, it was more like three. I refused to complain. Couldn’t I always use the exercise? Frank must have sweet-talked the fire marshal. How else could he have set up fireworks in a field? But then again, it wasn’t a grassy field in the hills of Kentucky. And truth be told, it wasn’t a no-burn season either.
After a few mesquite scrapes and a stick from a prickly pear cactus, we made it as far as the Fillmore’s Fireworks van. In the distance, the crowd had faded into the haze. The final wisps of sunlight disappeared into the midnight and azure blue of the sky. The stars were no longer grapefruits, but low-hanging friendly spirits. Twinkling, vibrating, watching over us with the strength of the long-departed and the one spirit that set them in place.
The van windows were dark. Lenny pulled me up short and took a whiz on the back tire. “Yip.”
“Good boy.” What else could I say? My boy knew how to take care of business and mark his territory. Past the van, the Maglite illuminated the platform another fifty feet on. Lights had been mounted to the ground so that the crowd wouldn’t focus on the secondary source of light.
I could hear the crickets and locusts whittling away on their hind legs. It was a beautiful night, perfect for the end of our holiday celebration. I didn’t know where Frank had gotten himself off to, but I seriously doubted the crowd minded the lateness of the hour. I took Lenny in my arms and cast my light into the scrub on either side. I was wearing my boots, but I wasn’t taking any chances. Just because I couldn’t see them didn’t mean rattlesnakes weren’t on the prowl for mice and rabbits all around us.
“Grr.” Lenny’s body tensed in my arms.
The hairs on my arms stood
