Prose: 4th of July, 07

Last year the 4th of July had a typical Colorado summertime weather report – mostly clear with a chance of scattered thundershowers. There were some dark clouds over the mountains as we planned our neighborhood trek to the Louisville golf course, but the sky was mostly clear. Victor, Evan (our 5 year old) and I rode with Patty and her 4 & 6 year olds in her SUV, following Betty & John & Juliet, their 5th grade daughter, in their CRV .

The crowd was forming at the golf course as we arrived and we had to park blocks away. The wind was picking up. We walked the sidewalks, pushing our small ones in strollers, making a game of dodging the sprinklers on the way. It was beginning to sprinkle from the sky too. “It’ll pass over.” was our mantra. We found a place we could all sit for the show, spreading out our blankets.

Dark clouds roiled above us, suddenly letting loose with all they had. The crowded lawn was roiling with humanity trying unsuccessfully to evade the fierce raindrops. We lifted our blanket up to serve as a feeble refuge. In a minute its swollen wetness was too heavy to hold up so, we wrapped it around Victor holding Evan. Poor Evan was cold to his tiny bones. And he began to cry. In the confusion we’d lost track of all our neighbors.

We retreated to a covered area where a 20 piece band was still cranking out patriotic party music. We squeezed under the open brick & mortar shelter through the generosity of those already packed in along the edges of the music stands and musicians. We searched the crowds for our ride home.

We knew we couldn’t stick it out—we were soaked. Even if the rain stopped immediately, we would be too chilled to relax and enjoy the fireworks. And Evan was still whimpering. Victor spotted Patty and we fell in behind her in the stream of people heading for their cars. The rain continued. Everyone was running. We splashed through monsoon fed rivers sweeping from the side streets. The sprinklers were still running too, pelting us with water from yet another angle. All the adults could do was joke and laugh hysterically. The kids alternated between laughing and whining and crying.

Finally we got to the SUV sopping wet. We plopped into our seats and Patty started up the engine and cranked up the heat as the rain continued to beat against the roof. We’re homeward bound. As we breeched the ridge near home we noticed that the fireworks had finally begun. Laughing, whining and crying stopped. We looked out at the colorful explosions from afar, oohing and ahhing on cue to their distant yet still captivating displays. The little adventure of the running and rain became the background that highlighted the happiness of being in a warm car while, in the end, getting to watch those celestial lights.

By Terra