Chapter Twenty

Independence Day

 

IT WAS SATURDAY, and I was excited not for the festivities, but mostly because I knew that since Uncle Butch couldn’t drive, Aunt Lori would have to take me to Mount Adams to call my mom. I felt free. It was my chance to escape. I jumped out of bed and ran straight for the kitchen where I found Aunt Lori starting breakfast.

“Good morning, sweetie. Your uncle is still asleep, so keep it down for a bit.”

“Need any help?” I asked.

“No, honey, have a seat and drink some orange juice.” I poured a glass from the pitcher on the table. “I thought we would take it slow this morning. Your uncle is not feeling very well. We’ll go to the parade after lunch.”

“When can you drive me to the house so I can call my mom?” I asked with anticipation.

“Oh, honey. I’m sorry. I don’t drive.”

Thunder struck my ears. I didn’t think I heard her right. “What?”

“I don’t drive.”

How could I have not known? I thought about it. The trips to their house in Mount Adams to get clean clothes and fresh supplies, and the trips to the grocery store—it was always Uncle Butch who drove. And then there was the trip to the emergency room. It was Bob who drove. My mom drove everywhere and I couldn’t imagine an adult who couldn’t drive. I thought that Aunt Lori was just being a good wife by letting Uncle Butch drive everywhere. After all, she was that kind of woman.

“How am I going to call my mom?” I asked.

“I don’t know, sweetie.” She looked at me apologetically. “When your uncle gets up, we’ll talk about it then, promise.”

“She’ll freak out if I don’t call today,” I said, my voice rising.

“I know. We’ll figure something out. Maybe your uncle can drive you if his knee is not too swollen.”

I said nothing. There was a fire burning in my stomach.

“I’ll get the rest of the lazy bunch up,” Aunt Lori said. She left and the smell of flowers drifted behind her. She went into the bedroom where Uncle Butch was still sleeping.

It was fifteen minutes before everyone was up and at the table. Uncle Butch stumbled in on his crutches, asking for aspirin. He sat down at the breakfast table across from me.

“Honey, do you think you can drive Chris to the house to call her mother?”

“I don’t think so. But I’ll take her as soon as I can drive again. Probably in a few days.”

Not alone. That would never happen. I would rather hug a porcupine before going to the house alone with him. Or anywhere alone with him, for that matter.

“She’ll be so worried if I don’t call today.”

Aunt Lori walked over to me and put her hand on my shoulder. “She’ll understand. Promise.” She should stop making promises she couldn’t keep.

Uncle Butch stuffed aspirin into his mouth and grumbled. “I don’t think I’ll be going to the parade or the fireworks today. I feel more dead than alive.”

“Aw, Dad,” Paige whined. “You’re not going to watch me in the parade?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll take you girls,” Aunt Lori said. “I had a feeling your daddy wouldn’t be feeling very good today. There’s no reason you girls should miss the bicentennial events though. Two hundred years in the making. It’s going to be fun, you’ll see.”

“Yay,” Paige said.

Around one o’clock, we all left for the parade, except Uncle Butch. We dropped Paige and her decorated bike off at the staging area for the parade. We went to the viewing area where we found a place to stand next to Bob and Alice.

A few seconds later, Aunt Lori was getting the scoop about the dance contest. It was obvious that they had won by the way Alice was moving around. She was sort of bouncing up and down with her hands clasped together as if in prayer in front of her.

I saw the gang down the way and waved. Wendy waved too.

“Mom, can we go watch the parade with our friends?” Wendy asked.

“Okay, but don’t go too far.”

“Come on,” Wendy said.

“Hey,” Reds said and put his hand around my waist. Everyone else greeted us too, but my main concern was Reds.

We talked for a few minutes, but when we heard music, we turned to watch the parade. A band in red uniforms marched by. My favorite thing about a band were the drums, especially the big round ones that made such a loud boom it echoed in your heart.

The band was followed by straggling lines of kids riding their bikes, decorated in red, white, and blue. I saw Paige and the twins near the front. Paige waved and her handle bars swerved hard, almost knocking her off the bike. We waved back. The excitement was gaining momentum.

Next was a platform being pulled by a large truck that was full of Veterans dressed in military uniforms from all different wars. One man was in a wheelchair, smiling and waving at the crowd that had formed along the front of the pavilion’s lawn. I almost cried when I noticed how proud they looked.

After the platform of Veterans, there was a walking formation of Revolutionary British soldiers in red coats, funny hats, and black boots. They were carrying long skinny rifles, the tip tucked up by their shoulders. They were followed by women in long dresses, who looked very hot. Behind them were the American soldiers and women following behind a large American flag. Some had uniforms but most didn’t.

And at the end of the parade, two cannons were being pulled by farm tractors. We all clapped as the last of the parade walked by us and then dispersed onto the lawn.

After a few minutes I heard a loud whistle moan. “What was that?”

“It’s the steamboat,” Wendy said.

Everyone gathered behind the pavilion, where it overlooked the river from the hill and we all waited for the steamboat to get closer.

I caught sight of it, barely visible from around the bend. It got closer, and I saw the smokestack billow a dragon’s breath that brought the boat to life. I had never before seen the beauty of a real paddleboat, and I knew I would always remember it. I could hear the roar of water churning as a great wheel on the back thrust the boat forward chopping the water into a furious froth.

I could make out the faces of some of the passengers who were smiling and waving at the gathering crowd behind the pavilion. I wondered where they came from or where they were going. I listened to the song of the travelling water and it lured me into a fantasy where I was one of the passengers, ready for a new adventure, one far away from here. I could smell the cherry tobacco of a man’s pipe and could see the sparkle of a woman’s diamond ring, or so I imagined.

After the steamboat paddled out of sight, we followed the crowd back out front onto the lawn. A huge barbecue grill was on the side of the pavilion with hotdogs scattered over it, and Cincinnati chili was next to it in a big pot. Two men were manning the grill and several women were around a table next to it, getting the condiments and buns ready. There was also a big bowl of baked beans and a large orange cooler full of lemonade.

About a hundred people were gathered at the pavilion already, mostly on the lawn where the food beckoned hungry bellies.

We stood in a short line for a chili dog and baked beans. Then we got our lemonade, which was too sweet, but we drank it anyway.

We wandered over to the edge of the pavilion where the pine trees were and found some privacy and some shade away from the growing crowd. We sat down in a circle, sitting crossed legged with our plates in our lap as we ate. Reds sat next to me.

“How do you like the Cincinnati chili, Chris?” Reds asked.

“It’s really good,” I said, wiping chili from my mouth with my napkin.

After we ate, Julie stood up and wiped the back of her shorts off. “Looks like the re-enactors are getting ready to put on their show. Let’s go over and see what’s happening.”

The re-enactors were forming on the front lawn. The British soldiers were on the left and the American soldiers were on the right. Each group had a cannon facing its enemy. Their rifles were straight up and down against their shoulders as in waiting. All was quiet in anticipation. Then the command was given by Colonel Saunders.

“Fire!”

In a flash, the soldiers were storming one another, their rifles pointed at the hearts of their enemies. Men from both sides were in hand to hand combat for about fifteen minutes.

Next, a cannon went off, and smoke covered the right half of the battlefield. Another bang, and more smoke followed. It looked as real as if it had been 1776 and we were standing right in the middle of the action, fighting for our freedom. Soldiers fell to their re-enacted deaths one by one until a small band of American soldiers declared victory over the British. Everyone clapped and cheered until all of the dead soldiers were up and walking off the battlefield.

The smoke cleared, and I saw an elderly woman standing beside a man in a wheelchair. The man had on a dark green uniform with a matching tie. He was missing both legs from the knee down. Across his chest were two lines of medals, but the one I noticed most was the purple one hanging from a ribbon and the medal was heart shaped. I guess purple didn’t make everything seem more exciting, didn’t always mean that your life might someday become a Broadway musical.

I felt bad for the man in the wheelchair. I still had my legs, yet I felt like I couldn’t move. Couldn’t escape.

The man saluted the flag with bravery only a soldier could do. His eyes were sad and watery. I thought about what horrors he must had to face in the war, and yet he still saluted the flag. Then it hit me. Freedom had been declared and it took a whole country to fight for it. We were celebrating two hundred years of it. Like everyone who fought for their freedom before me, I would join them.

“Reds?”

He turned to me. “Yeah?”

“Do you know why I wanted to pull that prank on my uncle?”

“It’s because he put you on restriction, right?”

I had to navigate cautiously. “Yeah, that’s some of it, but there’s more to it than that.”

“What?”

I paused, trying to gather my bravery.

He nudged me. “You can tell me. I’ll protect you.”

I thought of the fight at the beginning of summer and how he tried to break it up. I believed him. “Well, it’s because he’s mean too. Especially when he’s drinking. Which is every night.”

“Freckles’ Dad is an alcoholic, and he’s pretty mean too.”

He was getting off the subject. I tried again.

“Yeah, well, he’s not just mean. He’s a bad man.”

“What do you mean? Has he hit you?”

Just then, the elderly gentleman in the white suit took the microphone and blew into it, making a loud hiss.

Reds looked over at the man, then back at me, waiting for an answer. But I couldn’t talk over the microphone.

“Next, we will have the three-legged race. Everyone interested needs to come to the steps of the pavilion to get your leg ties. You will then stand at the starting line over there and tie your legs together.” He pointed to the side of the pavilion where there were a couple of women waving.

Reds tucked his hand into mine. It was warm and gentle. “Okay. Now. You were saying he hit you? I swear I’ll hurt him if he’s touched you.”

This is not what I wanted to happen. I didn’t want Reds to go off starting a fight with my uncle. Violence wasn’t the answer. Getting home safe was the answer.

“No, wait. I didn’t say he hit me. He’s just mean is all. Just forget about it.” I wanted to drop it, so I thought of a quick exit strategy. “Do you want to be partners in the three-legged race?”

“Yeah, sure.”

We went to the front of the pavilion where the crowd was gathering. He was still holding my hand and I knew he was still thinking about what I had just told him. I squeezed his hand to reassure him that I was okay.

After we got our leg ties, we walked over to the starting line and met up with Paige, who was tying her right leg to Callie’s left leg. She giggled when she saw us. Reds tied his leg to mine and we stood next to Julie and Tommy. Owl and Wendy were next to them and we all struggled to stay upright with our arms around each other. There were sixteen couples, both young and old. Aunt Lori and Alice were on the sidelines cheering us on. A man at the beginning of the line held up a starter gun.

Reds and I leaned forward, waiting. A second later the gun went off. We hobbled down the grassy lane, trying not to fall into one another, walking as fast as we could for the finish line. We had our arms around each other’s waist, walking first with our free leg, then moving as one unit with the legs that were tied together. We developed a kind of hop and a skip but we finally found our rhythm. We were tied for first place with Julie and Tommy.

I ran faster, taking Reds with me. Just as we were about to cross the finish line, Julie bumped into my shoulder. She was pushing me, trying to knock me off balance. I pushed back but it wasn’t enough to get her away from me. We were tied with just a few more hops before we finished. Julie’s foot jutted out in front of me, causing me to lose my balance. We stumbled and by the time we found our rhythm again, Julie and Tommy crossed the finish line before us.

Reds and I came in right behind the black-haired girl and her partner, and we fell in the grass, legs still tied together, laughing. We were sweating on each other and I was acutely aware of his leg against mine.

“We won,” Julie said with her hands up in the air. She chose a stuffed bear as her prize and she walked around with that thing like she was a queen.

I looked at her with a sideways glance. “Cheater,” I said, but no one heard me but Reds, who gave me a knowing smile. 

“We’ll get them next time,” Reds said. “And we won’t have to cheat to win.”

Wendy walked up to us. “Let’s go back to the cottage before the fireworks. I have to use the bathroom.”

Julie overheard and took over as usual. “Yeah, me too. Let’s take a break and meet back here around seven to watch the fireworks.” She looked around at everyone. “Sound good?”

As her loyal subjects, we all nodded silently.

Back at the cottage Uncle Butch was sulking in his chair. It was a little after four.

Paige was sitting on the couch, playing with Wendy’s Barbie doll.

Aunt Lori came out to greet us. “Having fun, girls?”

“Having a great time,” I said, sitting next to Paige, placing her between me and Uncle Butch. Wendy sat on the other side so that now I had them both as a buffer.

“You’re missing everything, Daddy,” Paige said.

Uncle Butch nodded at Paige, but he didn’t smile. His eyes washed over me in a way that made me feel like I needed a shower. I was ashamed of myself when he looked at me, his eyes exploring every inch of my body. I had long given up wearing the dresses that Wendy had lent me in exchange for my own tomboy clothes, but that didn’t matter to him.

He was quiet. Then, as if trying to figure something out, he asked, “How do you suppose a snake got into the cottage?” His tone was accusatory. He was staring at me, even though Wendy and Paige were sitting right next to me.

His face seemed to be caving in on itself, like a pug dog. He paused after every few words. His question sounded like: “How . . . do you suppose . . . a snake . . . got into the cottage?”

I guess he had all afternoon alone to think about it. He was a regular mathematician, putting two and two together like that. Or as Lisa would say, a “math-magician.” Yeah, he was a regular Sherlock Holmes. I knew I would pay if he ever found out I was the master mind behind the snake prank. And I didn’t want to know what he’d do if he found out.

Wendy gave me a worried look. I thought about it for a minute. How were we going to get out of this one? But my anger matched his.

“I don’t know . . . Uncle Butch. Maybe the way all snakes get anywhere. It crawled in.”

“You better watch yourself, young lady.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m trying to do.” I walked into the kitchen, feeling victorious and scared at the same time. I knew I had just poked the bear.