Independence Day

Independence Day



The sun blazed high in the summer sky, breaking up the few clouds that suggested it would be something other than an exceptionally sunny, hot day in July. Music blared from the speakers of a yellow Chevy nova, a leftover muscle car from the 1970’s, the sun reflected off of the sleek paint. Girls were in the parking lot, wearing tiny triangle bikini tops and wiggling their tanned bodies in time with the music, trying to incite men to pull in from the street and let them wash their cars, all in the name of earning money to send the teenagers to Christian Bible Camp. They held their neon poster boards up high, waving and whistling and moving their arms. Across the street, the teenagers who worked the fryers at Chicken Shack were keeping up with the demand of the busy holiday weekend. What could be more American than fried chicken at the park, watching the fireworks on the Fourth of July?

Katie Smith finished her shift at Chicken Shack and headed out into the unbearable heat. She reeked of fryer oil and looked forward to getting a cool shower and putting on clean clothes. The trouble with having a summer job was Katie had to work when everyone else was having fun. True, it was the only way to have money to pay for fun, but she wished there was something else to do to make money.

Walking along the busy highway, still in her Chicken Shack uniform, the red and yellow polo shirt clinging to her slender waist and the black chinos clinging to her legs, she ignored the cat calls from the back of an open pick up truck, boys coming back from lake, their red and tan backs, arms, and legs barely kept in by the bed of the truck. All of them had cowboy hats on, as was the custom in her happy little berg. She wondered why they were heading back into town instead of out of town. It was the Fourth of July, a great time to go up to the lake with a bunch of friends, barbeque some burgers and dogs, have a couple of cold drinks, and bask in the sunshine until night when the fireworks from the rodeo grounds would light up the sky.

It was only a mile to her house, but the street was hot, the heat shimmying up in waves off of the asphalt, the trucks and the cars pouring out hot exhaust, it was just too hot to be walking anywhere. Katie wiped her face with the hem of her poly-cotton shirt, wondering just what she would find when she finally arrived at the house on Jefferson Street. When she had left at eight o’clock that morning, the sunshine was masked by a sky of thin clouds and it did not seem so ugly outside. Her mother was still in bed having a morning to sleep off the effects of a twelve pack of Coors the night before; her brother was still in bed, sleeping off the effects of a night of partying, too. She was the only one who was sober, the only one who did not smoke, the only one who would even get up on a National holiday and go to work. Every holiday, she worked. Every weekend, she worked. Walking to work was walking away from the hectic life at home.

Up at the front door, Katie wiped her face again, and then went inside. She did not know the cars parked in front of the house, a green Ford truck, a red Chevy Caprice, and a white import. She found that her mother had invited friends over and they were all out in the back yard, drinking beer and playing games in the swimming pool. She could hear them splashing from the bathroom, where she immediately took off her work uniform and got into the shower.

Someone came in while she was bathing and all she could do was sigh. If she said anything to her mother about her “friends”, she would be reminded that she was now eighteen years old and could find somewhere else to live rent-free. It did not matter that she had just graduated from high school and there were no options for her to leave. Colleges were too far away and until she could manage a scholarship of room and board, she wasn’t leaving. She would just keep working as many hours as she could at Chicken Shack and hope for something better to come along.

“Who’s in there?” a drunken voice asked when Katie let out a yelp. The stranger did not seem to notice that the shower was on until he flushed the toilet and the lukewarm water of the shower turned into a boiling hot spray on Katie’s back. A man’s finger pulled open the side of the blue damask curtain, taking a peek at her.

She screamed, “Get out! Get out!”

He did not offer an apology but laughed. When she heard the bathroom door close, she resumed washing her hair, then rinsed and got out as soon as she could. Tears of frustration poured down her thin pink cheeks.

In a towel, Katie darted down the hall to her bedroom, finding it had become the dumping ground for purses and leather motorcycle gear. She took a clean pair of panties out of her top drawer and pulled them on, then a bra, t-shirt, and shorts. She would have preferred jeans but it was sweltering outside.

Music began blaring from the stereo in the front room. Someone decided it was time for karaoke and began singing “Summer Lovin’” from Grease at a high decibel, and out of tune. She groaned internally.

There had to be something to do besides hang out at home with her mother and her mother’s drunken friends. There had to be somewhere to go where she could be away from the loud music and the drinking and the smoking. The smell of cigarettes permeated her clothes, her hair, and her skin. She hated smelling like an ashtray, especially when she herself did not smoke.

Katie went back to the bathroom to retrieve her cell phone from the front pocket of her work pants. She had forgotten to turn out the pockets before putting the clothes in the hamper. She took a quick look at herself in the mirror, wiped away the mascara that remained under her eyes after taking a shower, and put on a fresh coat of eyeliner and mascara. She brushed out her shoulder-length brown hair and put it up into a ponytail. It was too hot to have her hair down.

She scrolled through her phone book. Most of her friends were at work or out of town on the hot, sticky holiday. She had left work early because she had already made 40 hours and the manager was not going to give her overtime. They did not want her working a full 40 hours as it was. Thirty-nine and a half and they would not have to pay for full-time pay with benefits. Once she hit 40, they were obligated to offer health benefits and vacation pay, both of which they were not going to give to an eighteen year old, temporary employee. She knew she should be grateful that she had a job at all; few were to be had in a tiny town. It was Chicken Shack or McDonald’s, and even McDonald’s wasn’t hiring.

Against her better judgment, Katie pushed the entry for Sasha MacIntyre.

Everyone in town knew Sasha. She had the reputation of being very outgoing, very bold and sassy, and no one’s parents wanted them to hang out with her. Even Katie’s mother, who was known to be a souse and not the most demanding of values, did not want her hanging out with Sasha. Her jet black hair and her ruby red lips made her stand out, her willingness to do things that were hazardous just for the sake of the thrill made her every parents’ nightmare.

A friendly voice answered, “Hey, hey, hey! What’s up Kate?”

“Nothing much,” Katie said, taking another look at herself in the mirror.

“Well why not?”

Katie sighed, “’Cause I just got off of work and I don’t know what’s going on around town tonight… What are you doing?”

“I’m up at the park,” she said, “Why don’t you come on up here?”

Katie thought about the possibility of walking the three miles to Washington Park, the center of Washington, Texas. It was just so hot.

“Gosh, that’s a long walk from here,” Katie said, “I guess I’m stuck here…”

“Naw, girl, I’ll come and pick you up,” Sasha said, “I need someone up here who will stay sober…”

Katie laughed, “I will stay sober…”

“Then I’ll be down to get you in a few…”

Katie had not received permission to leave, but she did not feel the need to bother to ask. If her mother was throwing a party for Independence Day for all of her friends of questionable taste and maturity, then she should be able to leave and do something of her own accord. It was highly likely that when she arrived home that night there would be one or more people asleep in her twin bed and people in various states of sobriety and undress strewn about the house.

Sasha did not arrive at her house alone. A truck full of cowboys had come with her, the same cowboys who had been in the truck coming back from the lake when she was walking home. She wondered what had happened that they had left the cool blue-green water of the lake, but she hopped into the cab of the truck and left with Sasha and her cohort. She did not need to ask questions. She just needed to get out of the house.

The sun would not set until well after nine o’clock and Katie found a place in the shade of a huge red sycamore tree. Sasha and her cowboy friends were passing around cans of beer from a blue cooler; all of them were laughing and singing along with the band set up in the center of the park. Katie felt sweat dripping down the back of her knees. It was uncomfortable and yet there was nothing better to do on that hot July night.

“We’re going to go closer to the band,” Sasha said, a beer can in her hand, “You wanna come with us?”

Katie nodded, not sure why she had agreed to come up to the park with Sasha. Watching everyone get drunk was not really that much fun. She could do that at home. Still, the music was good and Sasha would need a sober driver to get her and her car home. Maybe she would stay the night at Sasha’s, seeing as her friend had an apartment off of her grandma’s house and someone was always hanging out with Sasha.

“Oh yeah!” Sasha cheered when the band played another song. Katie had not ever heard of the singer, but she liked the rock-a-billy twang. Everyone seemed to nod and clap and dance along to the beat of the music. Katie was standing with her arms drawn tight around her stomach, not feeling so great. Whether it was the heat or dehydration or just feeling down about her life, she was really not in the mood to celebrate. What did she have to be celebrating, anyway? She was not independent. She was not free. She was stuck in a dead-end job with her drunken mother and her drug addicted brother and no prospects for the future.

Her feet began walking away from the park. She should have just stayed and waited for Sasha to be drunk sufficiently to drive her home, but she was bored, and tired, and it was still a good hour before fireworks would be exploding across the sky. Did she even care about fireworks anymore?

The music faded as Katie began to walk towards home. Her feet were lead weights, dragging her down, plodding along.

A car pulled up beside her as she walked alone down the street. Music played loudly and Katie bit her lip as she kept walking.

“Kate! Kate!” a voice yelled at her above the music. Katie kept walking. She was sure it was one of the boys that were friends with her drug addict of a brother, probably Mark Kenny or one of the equally disgusting boys who sniffed around her house looking for something to eat or something to smoke.

“Katie!” the voice called out again. She took her cell phone out of her pocket and began to dial, to see if the person would figure out that she was not in the mood to talk. The car pulled up into a metered spot just in front of the hardware store and the engine went off. The man got out of the car and came around to the hood of the car.

She tried to be happy to see Sam Hefner but her arms went around her waist as though to protect herself from him.

“Didn’t you hear me?” he asked, leaning against the hood of his shiny yellow car. It glistened in the amber streetlight.

“Oh, I heard you,” she replied, peering at him with her steel grey eyes.

“You alright?” Sam Hefner had his long-sleeved plaid shirt rolled up to the elbows and his buttons undone, showing the dusty white t-shirt he wore underneath.

“I’m fine,” she sighed. She was not fine at all.

“Why did you leave the park? They’re about to do the fireworks…” he said, his voice was gravelly. She had always liked his voice. Katie wondered what indeed was she doing away from the park?

“I was hot,” she replied, which was perfectly true, but not really the reason she left.

“Well you still look hot now,” he said and she wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or a statement of the obvious. She was wet with sweat under her arms, on her face, on her neck and legs.

“Why aren’t you at the park?” she asked, still holding her arms tight around herself.

“’Cause I came lookin’ for you. You shouldn’t be out walkin’ alone…” he said. She sighed. She did not want to hear about how dangerous the streets of Washington were for a girl by herself. She knew everyone in Washington, in the county around Washington, and she did not foresee anyone kidnapping her for sexual favors.

“Why do you care if I’m walkin’ alone?” she asked with snap in her voice. After all that had happened between them their senior year of high school, she did not think he should be giving her any advice.

“Because I care about you,” Sam still leaned against the hood of his yellow car.

“Is that right?” she asked, sarcasm dripping from her tone.

“Yes, that’s right. What’s gotten into you tonight?” he asked, taking off his straw cowboy hat, running his dusty fingers through his perspiration soaked hair, then putting his hat back on.

“I…” she shrugged. She did not have an explanation for her dissatisfaction. There wasn’t anything wrong exactly, but nothing seemed to be right, either. She felt down about her life, about her prospects.

Sam Hefner had been a friend of Katie’s all through school, from Kindergarten all the way up to graduation. He lived on a farm north of town and her father had worked as a farmhand on the Hefner farm. It was a mid-sized farm that changed from traditional crop farming to certified organic and heirloom farming when organic cotton and produce became more profitable than the traditional parcel farming. It was about the same time that Katie’s dad died of a heart attack, right in the middle of harvesting a row of cotton. Katie’s mother went off the deep end. She worked as the secretary of the Washington Elementary school but was bombed every weekend. She went out to bars in the next county, meeting men of questionable taste and morality. They did not live up to the Christian values Katie had been taught as a child by her parents and in her church. She hated being around the profanity and drinking. Sam had been true friend, the one who kept talking to her even after her mother turned into a drunk and stopped going to church.

“Let’s go back to the park,” Sam said, “They’ve got a hot dog stand and cotton candy…”

“As tempting as that sounds, no,” Katie said caustically. She did not feel like being around happy people. She had nothing to celebrate.

“Ah Kate, what is wrong?” he asked, “You always loved the fireworks.”

“You wouldn’t understand,” she sighed. How could he understand? He had a mother and father who were good Christians. While they were not rich, they were not poor, either. He did not have to take a job at a chicken fast food joint to pay for his cell phone, or to help pay the rent every month.

“Try me,” he would not let her leave.

“My life sucks,” she said, wanting him to leave her alone. She was ashamed enough as it was. “My Daddy’s gone, my Mom’s a drunk and has her Harley riding friends over every weekend, my brother’s more interested in smoking dope than going to work or school…”

Sam said nothing. He stood there, listening.

“And I’m tired of smelling like peanut oil and smoke,” she frowned, “And I am just sick of it all. No one cares about me unless I don’t show up on time to work or if I don’t pay my phone bill.”

“Your friends care,” Sam said, though he looked increasingly uncomfortable.

“What do *you* know?” Katie was in a mode of self-loathing.

“I know plenty,” he replied sharply, “And everybody at church cares about you.”

“Yeah, I’m not putting money in the collection plate or bringing chicken for Sunday luncheon.”

Sam walked up to where Katie stood and looked deeply into her eyes, “I care what happens to you.”

“Why? You and your dad can stop with the sympathy and feeling sorry about my Daddy. He had a bad heart. No one could do anything about it.”

“I have cared a long time Kate,” he said in all sincerity, “I care.”

Kate couldn’t look at Sam. She looked over at his car. His shiny yellow Nova with chrome rims and Goodyear tires.

“You remember when I kept talking about the prom and you said how it was dumb and lame and you didn’t have no one to go with, even if you wanted to go?”

Kate raised her eyebrows, “Yeah, so what? We’ve graduated. Prom’s over.”

“I wanted to go with you.”

“I didn’t need no pity date to the prom,” she resisted the idea. The night her friends went to prom, she worked until close, and then went home to find her mom passed out drunk on the sofa. It had been a miserable night.

“It wouldn’t have been a pity date, you dummy!” Sam yelled in frustration.

Kate pursed her lips.

“I love you Katie,” he said angrily, “Why can’t you see that?”

Tears welled in her steel grey eyes. No one had ever told her they loved her. She supposed that when she was a little girl, her mom and Daddy probably hugged her and said they loved her, but she couldn’t remember it. She could only remember her mother and father being away from home during the day, working, doing the best they could to keep a roof over their heads and food on the table.

“You do?” Kate asked softly.

“Yes!” Sam took her hands into his, “You remember when Joe Kelly asked you to go steady with him and I kept sayin’, ‘He’s gonna break your heart’? And he did. So, who was there to make you laugh? Who was there to drive you home every day?”

Kate smiled through her tears.

“Come back to the park with me,” he said, “Let me buy you a snow cone.”



Everyone was at the park that night. Sasha McIntyre was laughing and cajoling with the cowboys. The girls Katie had known as cheerleaders at Washington High School were there; too, their bikini tops barely keeping their ample breasts covered. Katie and Sam wandered through the crowd together, both holding the dripping, red, white, and blue snow cones picked up from Johnny Miller’s ice truck.

Music still played, even when the fireworks began. The rockets shot into the purple sky, exploding into sparks of white. Katie looked up and watched. The country music band was replaced by the high school marching band playing patriotic anthems of Stars and Stripes forever and God Bless America. The crowd settled down to the music and the fireworks, everyone had their necks craned to watch the showers of light.

Sam drew his arms around Katie’s waist, ignoring the heat and the sticky drips of snow cone, and held her to his chest. For one brief night she felt safe. She felt as though she really did have something to look forward to, someone to love her. She could think of nothing more freeing than someone to love.