so far.
Even in the crowds of people getting ready for the festival, in dozens of hellos from old friends and acquaintances, loneliness taunted him.
Saturday morning, Derek drove back down to Justin’s and parked in the lot out back. He tucked his keys into his front pocket, then took the cones out of Justin’s storage building and, like Justin had asked, marked off the lot so only the residents could gain access during the festival. In just a few hours it would be in full swing and continue well into the evening.
A giant flag with a big purple question mark now flew high above the gazebo in town square, signaling it was the place to go for answers to questions, share information, and reunite with lost children, keeping things running smoothly from start to finish.
The place had transformed overnight. The streets were no longer filled with boxes of inventory or half-put-together stands. Even the lights that would brighten the night had been strung across the streets by the guys from the electric co-op. Why it took a week to put up the holiday lights, and only a few hours for this, he couldn’t explain, and no one else would even notice them until tonight. They had always been one of Laney’s favorite parts. The purplish lights at night. He shoved his hands in his pockets and walked on. Being here alone felt like being shortchanged.
Today, every booth was tidy and ready for the crowd. Signs boasted bragging rights and balloons bounced in the breeze. The rainbow of colors assaulted him, with the smells not far behind—ranging from salty to sugary sweet—enough to make your mouth water and you dig into your pocket.
Derek walked over and picked up one of the colorful, slick tri-fold brochures from the information booth. Just yesterday afternoon Boot Creek was only a small town with a few cars parked along the curbs. Today, it buzzed with nearly as much excitement as the State Fair.
He walked up the couple of blocks to the fire department booth. All of the tables and grid displays he’d set up last night had been transformed into a nice little store selling fire-department-themed items, including wooden sculptures that the guys had been making with chain saws for the last couple of months.
“How’s it going?” Derek asked the girls still straightening out the shirts.
“Great.”
“It looks good.”
Patrick looked up from the chain saw he was working on. “Hey, Derek. Good to see you, man. Figures Justin would plan his honeymoon right through our busiest fundraising weekend. You ready for me to take your title?”
Derek gave the rookie a nod. “Let’s wait and see how it all shakes out.”
Two other firefighters joined the conversation. One of them elbowed Patrick and said, “Justin’s going to be having way more fun than us today. If you know what I mean.”
Derek knew exactly what they meant, but somehow he had a feeling that Justin was probably wishing he was back in Boot Creek, even if only for a few hours, to hang out with the guys after nearly a week of lovey-dovey honeymooning.
Patrick cursed as he worked a wrench on the chain of his chain saw.
“What’s the matter, man?” Derek walked over and watched for a moment. He remembered what it was like to be the new guy in the department. “You need a new chain.”
“I know. I should have brought one with me. I don’t know why I didn’t think about it. I’ve got two in my locker at the station. Just forgot to put them in my bag. I don’t have time to get them. I have to do the announcements for the next hour.”
“I’ll drive over and get them for you,” Derek offered. “My round isn’t until one o’clock. I’ve got plenty of time. Hang tight.”
Derek walked back up the street, stopping at one of the stands to get a blackberry limeade along the way. The flavor was so fresh that it reminded him of the days he and the guys would walk out behind the fence at school and pick thumb-sized ones right off the wild bushes at
Even in the crowds of people getting ready for the festival, in dozens of hellos from old friends and acquaintances, loneliness taunted him.
Saturday morning, Derek drove back down to Justin’s and parked in the lot out back. He tucked his keys into his front pocket, then took the cones out of Justin’s storage building and, like Justin had asked, marked off the lot so only the residents could gain access during the festival. In just a few hours it would be in full swing and continue well into the evening.
A giant flag with a big purple question mark now flew high above the gazebo in town square, signaling it was the place to go for answers to questions, share information, and reunite with lost children, keeping things running smoothly from start to finish.
The place had transformed overnight. The streets were no longer filled with boxes of inventory or half-put-together stands. Even the lights that would brighten the night had been strung across the streets by the guys from the electric co-op. Why it took a week to put up the holiday lights, and only a few hours for this, he couldn’t explain, and no one else would even notice them until tonight. They had always been one of Laney’s favorite parts. The purplish lights at night. He shoved his hands in his pockets and walked on. Being here alone felt like being shortchanged.
Today, every booth was tidy and ready for the crowd. Signs boasted bragging rights and balloons bounced in the breeze. The rainbow of colors assaulted him, with the smells not far behind—ranging from salty to sugary sweet—enough to make your mouth water and you dig into your pocket.
Derek walked over and picked up one of the colorful, slick tri-fold brochures from the information booth. Just yesterday afternoon Boot Creek was only a small town with a few cars parked along the curbs. Today, it buzzed with nearly as much excitement as the State Fair.
He walked up the couple of blocks to the fire department booth. All of the tables and grid displays he’d set up last night had been transformed into a nice little store selling fire-department-themed items, including wooden sculptures that the guys had been making with chain saws for the last couple of months.
“How’s it going?” Derek asked the girls still straightening out the shirts.
“Great.”
“It looks good.”
Patrick looked up from the chain saw he was working on. “Hey, Derek. Good to see you, man. Figures Justin would plan his honeymoon right through our busiest fundraising weekend. You ready for me to take your title?”
Derek gave the rookie a nod. “Let’s wait and see how it all shakes out.”
Two other firefighters joined the conversation. One of them elbowed Patrick and said, “Justin’s going to be having way more fun than us today. If you know what I mean.”
Derek knew exactly what they meant, but somehow he had a feeling that Justin was probably wishing he was back in Boot Creek, even if only for a few hours, to hang out with the guys after nearly a week of lovey-dovey honeymooning.
Patrick cursed as he worked a wrench on the chain of his chain saw.
“What’s the matter, man?” Derek walked over and watched for a moment. He remembered what it was like to be the new guy in the department. “You need a new chain.”
“I know. I should have brought one with me. I don’t know why I didn’t think about it. I’ve got two in my locker at the station. Just forgot to put them in my bag. I don’t have time to get them. I have to do the announcements for the next hour.”
“I’ll drive over and get them for you,” Derek offered. “My round isn’t until one o’clock. I’ve got plenty of time. Hang tight.”
Derek walked back up the street, stopping at one of the stands to get a blackberry limeade along the way. The flavor was so fresh that it reminded him of the days he and the guys would walk out behind the fence at school and pick thumb-sized ones right off the wild bushes at
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