Dad and I walked to Uncle Sal’s house on the Fourth of July to watch the parade from his front yard. He lived on the other side of Meadowbrook Elementary, but we only saw him on important holidays, and Fourth of July was the most important of all in our town. People came from all over, even the city, to see the parade on Main Street and fireworks at the high school. They dragged coolers and strollers in the late-morning heat. I pretended it was the apocalypse and the whole town was marching toward safety before the aliens got us.
“Let’s go, Pearl,” Dad said, waiting a block ahead of me. He looked clean and strange in his pink shirt. He said it wasn’t pink but salmon colored. I asked him if that meant white was tilapia colored, but he said of course not.
Dad and I had dyed old T-shirts red and blue that week, because that’s what Mom used to do, but Dad didn’t get the expensive dye or wash the shirts right, so they came out brown and splotchy. Though he didn’t wear his tie-dye shirt, I wore mine because brown was my favorite color and… Read more »