THE RAT-A-TAT-TAT OF DRUMS ECHOED DOWN THE town’s main street, announcing the Fourth of July parade. The Lufkin High School band rounded the corner and was heading right past Justin and his mom. Behind them, a group of young girls twirled batons up into the air and caught them. The large crowd applauded and cheered—everyone in town was here to watch the celebration. Up next was a bright red fire engine. Firemen hung off the sides, clutching small American flags in their large hands. The men waved proudly at the crowd as the truck rumbled past.
Justin used to love this parade when he was a kid. He’d sit on Kyle’s shoulders—though Kyle was only a few years older, he was able to hold Justin up high enough for him to see the floats over the crowd. Now Justin was tall enough to see for himself, but he hated the parade: the false smiles, the happy patriotism of people who’d never watched their big brother leave for a war—and come home in a coffin.
Plus, the last person he felt like cheering for was his dad, who would pass by soon with the other veterans from their town. He still hadn’t quite forgiven his dad for forcing Max into a cage. Justin thrust his hands deep into his jean’s pockets.
Justin spotted Chuy and his family camped out directly across the street, right in front of the pharmacy. He scanned the group for Carmen. She was toward the back, holding a Chihuahua in the crook of her arm. He watched her for a moment, smiling to himself.
His mom tapped him with the back of her hand. “Here they come,” she said excitedly.
Sure enough, a cluster of veterans marched in time to the music. They were men and women of all ages—some of them had to be in their eighties. They smiled and looked from one side of the street to the other. Justin spotted his dad in the center of the group. He wore a Marines cap and a red jacket. He limped along, his back upright and stiff, one hand saluting and the other waving at the crowd. Justin didn’t wave back.
“Ray!” his mom called out. His dad turned at the sound of his wife’s voice. He spotted her and Justin and nodded. His parents held each other’s gaze for a moment, and Justin saw tears spring to his mother’s eyes.
Walking right next to his dad was Tyler. He wore civilian clothes, and he looked uncomfortable marching down the middle of the street, as if he didn’t like the feeling of so many eyes on him. Justin’s father reached out a hand and placed it on Tyler’s shoulder. Justin, who was already ticked off at his dad, was suddenly filled with a feeling so intense that it surprised even him. It was more than anger, and it wasn’t just directed at his father—it was directed at the unfairness of the world.
Justin was mad beyond words that his brother was dead, but he was sad and frustrated, too. He felt helpless to make his parents feel better, to make himself feel better. Seeing Tyler marching with his dad brought all these feelings out in Justin. It was wrong that Tyler was there with his dad, instead of his brother. It should be Kyle.
ONCE HE REACHED THE END OF THE PARADE ROUTE, Justin’s dad doubled back and met up with his wife and Justin. The last of the procession was trickling by—mostly a handful of stragglers with noisemakers. The sun had gone down, which meant the firecrackers had started up. Justin could hear them popping, the sound drifting over from parking lots and alleyways. Usually he’d be out there with Chuy, lighting them, too, but he didn’t feel like it this year.
Justin and his parents settled in for the town’s fireworks show. Justin leaned back against the hood of a car, while his parents stood side by side nearby. The sky darkened to black, then suddenly exploded with color and light. The loud booms started up a split second later—a symphony of crackles and blasts. Justin’s eardrums tingled. He felt the deep bass of each explosion in his bones.
He looked around at the upturned faces of the crowd. Everyone else was captivated by the show. They oohed and aahed with each new burst. His mom leaned her head on his dad’s shoulder. His dad took her hand and squeezed it.
Justin felt tense and jumpy. He couldn’t relax—or escape the feeling that there was something sinister about the fireworks tonight. Instead of seeming like a celebration, they seemed . . . harsh and dangerous. Justin found himself wondering if the explosions in the Lufkin summer sky sounded anything like a rocket grenade going off in Afghanistan.
That’s when he realized what was bothering him: Max. Panic shot through Justin. He remembered what Sergeant Reyes had said—that Max was suffering from PTSD and couldn’t bear the sound of loud noises. What did that mean for poor Max, who at that very moment was locked in a cage, with no way of escaping the explosions? Justin knew Max was probably flipping out, and felt horrible for leaving his dog all alone on the most traumatizing of nights.
Without a word to his parents, Justin jumped off the car and pushed his way through the crowd. He walked quickly, then jogged, then broke into a full run. The fireworks lit up the road as he ran. He raced home as fast as he could, his side cramping up as he turned onto his block. He dashed past his mom’s car and down the side of the house into the backyard.
Justin stopped a few feet from Max’s crate and put his hands on his knees, catching his breath. It was worse than he had thought. Max was completely crazy with fear. He spun in tight circles in his cage, whining and barking. He howled desperately with every new blast in the sky. Justin’s heart leaped in his chest. He’d seen Max angry, he’d even been afraid of Max, but Justin had never seen him so scared.
How was he going to calm down Max?
“Max, it’s okay,” he said soothingly. “Take it easy, boy. I’m here now. It’s just fireworks.”
Max whimpered sadly. For a second Justin thought he had soothed him, but when a new firework lit up the night, Max barked and howled wildly. Justin had an idea—he ran over to the back door of the house and opened it. Then he ran over to Max’s cage. He’d bring the dog inside.
“I’m gonna open the door, Max,” he said gently. “Then you can come out, buddy.” Justin swung open the door to the crate, but Max just backed away from him. “Come on, Max,” Justin begged. “Come on out, please. It’s okay.”
Max spun in circles, all his hair standing on edge and his tail between his legs. “Let’s go inside the house,” Justin said. “Come on, Max, let’s go.”
Justin took a step toward the house to demonstrate what he meant. Max suddenly stopped twirling and snarled at Justin. Justin froze—this was not going well at all. Had Max became dangerous again? His dog glared at him from inside the open crate.
Another shower of light and sound burst down from above. Max pressed himself into the back corner of his cage, howling and barking. His tail hung even lower between his legs. Justin sighed. He knew he didn’t have any other choice if he wanted to help Max. He stepped toward the crate. He wished there was another way, but he knew there wasn’t.
“Easy, Max. Easy. Listen—I’m coming in, okay?”
Max let out a little snort, but stayed pressed against the bars, his head down, his scared eyes looking up at Justin.
Justin held up his hands in a surrender gesture. He spoke softly as he bent over and stepped into the cage, which wasn’t tall enough for him to stand up in. “Here I come, buddy. It’s okay, pal.”
Justin paused, then little by little crept farther toward Max.
“Good boy, Max. I’m here. It’s just fireworks.” Justin slipped down to the ground next to Max and pulled his knees in, cross-legged. Max sniffed at him. Slowly, carefully, Justin reached out and put his hand on Max’s neck. Max stayed put. Justin caressed his fur. “It’s okay, boy. You’re okay.”
Max’s frantic breathing slowed down. He lowered his head and pressed it against Justin’s chest. Justin hooked his arm around Max’s neck and scratched behind his ears. Max lay down, resting his head completely in Justin’s lap. Justin pulled him closer until Max’s entire body was on his lap. They’d never been this close before, and Max’s fur felt soft and warm. Justin felt some knot inside of his chest uncoil, like his own pain and grief over Kyle was falling away from him. The two of them huddled together, their breath falling into the same rhythm, as the fireworks lit up the night sky in a bright burst of gold.