Parade Hex 2
In the last couple of years the onslaught had been full on. People had actually come to her very door and offered her money for her cottage; and lots of it at that. They craned their necks while speaking, trying to get a better look inside. Marveling that the place was nearly untouched- un- modernized- virgin post contact era territory. Even tho they would yank out her wood range like an old tooth and put the stainless "over there". She slammed the door in their faces. Little did they know what had been cooked on that stove over the years.
The 4th dawned grey and muggy. Clara opened her eyes and felt the heavy air coming in her bedroom window off the water. Under the low eves the clamminess had settled on her like a thin cotton blanket.
Before the movement of her legs roused Tabby the cat, she heard it. The first clanging of aluminum tent poles hitting the pavement. They were here.
Clara sprang out of bed sending Tabby flying. Clara bent to look out the low window- across the street- just in time to see the big bubba turn up the volume on the red neck radio station. Little bubba and several bubba children were the ones clattering the tent poles, trying to erect the canopy off the side of the camper. Female bubba was loading the first case of beer into the cooler. She popped a top and took a long pull. It wasn't yet 6 a.m. The blood pressure rose in Clara's ears. "God damned sons of bitches. I'll fix your sorry asses for ya this year".
No one would be coming to the lawn for a parade picnic this year. This year Clara had begged off her parade hostess duties to the disappointment of her cronies. This year Clara had other plans.
"Come on Tabby- lets go downstairs and get breakfast before you run off to hide in the basement for the day. You may have some company down there this year."
Clara fired up the wood range even tho the heat was already gathering in the house. She put on the old tea kettle and poured some milk into Tabby's bowl. Both of them jumped in their skins as a boom of hillbilly music blared into the air. 6:15.
The street was filling up. Blankets were spread on the sidewalks; lawnchairs, coolers and people people people, were packing in to every available inch of space. It would be a good five hours before the parade got down this end. A long time to kill while guarding your spot. Some slept on their blankets, some read, some took a promenade up and down the street a ways. The rednecks settled in with their beer. More came to join them and a pickup game of basketball against the side of the camper began. Whomp whomp whomp yell- over and over.
Every little while Clara stole to the front window and watched them. "What asses. How dare they come here from out of town and ruin our day?" Tabby jumped up on the sill and rubbed back and forth on her Mother's arms.
"Now my sweet girl-I want you to do like I told you. Remember how we practiced?" Tabby glared her own look at the bubbas through yellow slitted eyes before she hopped down and ran back toward the kitchen. The basement door was ajar and she ran down the steep steps. Quick quick she was back up again with something wiggling in her teeth. A fat mouse squealed in terror. Tabby's jaws closed hard and the mouse went limp. Clara had replaced the breakfast kettle with an old enamel pot on the wood range. Tabby flung the mouse into the boiling brew in the pot and gave Clara a satisfied smirk. She lifted her head for a stroke. "Good Girl!" This route was redone several more times until a pot full of little bloated bodies roiled in the enamel pot. All the while Clara added a dash of this and a pinch of that, muttering unknown words as she worked; smiling for the first time all day.
The 4th dawned grey and muggy. Clara opened her eyes and felt the heavy air coming in her bedroom window off the water. Under the low eves the clamminess had settled on her like a thin cotton blanket.
Before the movement of her legs roused Tabby the cat, she heard it. The first clanging of aluminum tent poles hitting the pavement. They were here.
Clara sprang out of bed sending Tabby flying. Clara bent to look out the low window- across the street- just in time to see the big bubba turn up the volume on the red neck radio station. Little bubba and several bubba children were the ones clattering the tent poles, trying to erect the canopy off the side of the camper. Female bubba was loading the first case of beer into the cooler. She popped a top and took a long pull. It wasn't yet 6 a.m. The blood pressure rose in Clara's ears. "God damned sons of bitches. I'll fix your sorry asses for ya this year".
No one would be coming to the lawn for a parade picnic this year. This year Clara had begged off her parade hostess duties to the disappointment of her cronies. This year Clara had other plans.
"Come on Tabby- lets go downstairs and get breakfast before you run off to hide in the basement for the day. You may have some company down there this year."
Clara fired up the wood range even tho the heat was already gathering in the house. She put on the old tea kettle and poured some milk into Tabby's bowl. Both of them jumped in their skins as a boom of hillbilly music blared into the air. 6:15.
The street was filling up. Blankets were spread on the sidewalks; lawnchairs, coolers and people people people, were packing in to every available inch of space. It would be a good five hours before the parade got down this end. A long time to kill while guarding your spot. Some slept on their blankets, some read, some took a promenade up and down the street a ways. The rednecks settled in with their beer. More came to join them and a pickup game of basketball against the side of the camper began. Whomp whomp whomp yell- over and over.
Every little while Clara stole to the front window and watched them. "What asses. How dare they come here from out of town and ruin our day?" Tabby jumped up on the sill and rubbed back and forth on her Mother's arms.
"Now my sweet girl-I want you to do like I told you. Remember how we practiced?" Tabby glared her own look at the bubbas through yellow slitted eyes before she hopped down and ran back toward the kitchen. The basement door was ajar and she ran down the steep steps. Quick quick she was back up again with something wiggling in her teeth. A fat mouse squealed in terror. Tabby's jaws closed hard and the mouse went limp. Clara had replaced the breakfast kettle with an old enamel pot on the wood range. Tabby flung the mouse into the boiling brew in the pot and gave Clara a satisfied smirk. She lifted her head for a stroke. "Good Girl!" This route was redone several more times until a pot full of little bloated bodies roiled in the enamel pot. All the while Clara added a dash of this and a pinch of that, muttering unknown words as she worked; smiling for the first time all day.
posted by minniepeckham at 8:42 AM
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