Fireworks and the Flight of Independence

It was Friday, July 4th, and B-Jay woke earlier than usual, recounting the rather strange dream that had wrestled him from his slumber.

He stretched as the images faded, still feeling sleepy. It was very warm in the garage and the heat of July lay heavy over everything—even time itself slowed under its weight. He looked out of the garage window to the land beyond and marveled at how green and alive the hills and fields looked. There were birds of prey riding the wind currents, high above the flowering cornfields while nesting bluebirds emerged from the box elder trees to scavenge for grubs to feed their hungry chicks. The air was buzzing with the sound of bees who were busy bumbling from flower to flower, attaching as much sticky pollen to their legs as they could carry. He even caught sight of a beautiful "Red Admiral" butterfly as it fluttered past the window.

It was not the kind of day to lie in bed doing nothing—it was a day for living and doing things.

He was rather taken aback by his dream and wondered if it indeed had been a dream or a strange adventure that he and his friends had previously shared; maybe one he had forgotten.

He needed to find out; he certainly did not want to forget something as important as the memories of their friendship. He would head to the cottonwood tree for answers.

He checked his oil pressure and gas before starting his engine – having remembered the effort involved in the Easter Egg Riddle – which involved a lot of driving. Satisfied they were good, he gave his tires a quick thump to check they were not deflated and reasoning that all seemed fine, he left the garage.

Minutes later he found himself rounding the bend. The cottonwood tree stood before him like a large, shimmering umbrella against the bright blue sky. Its thick trunk was wrapped in rough, gray bark that looked like deeply wrinkled skin; its leaves were shaped like glossy green hearts with jagged, toothy edges, and thousands of tiny seeds wrapped in tufts of white, silky fluff drifted on a light breeze looking like warm-weather snowflakes, carpeting the grass in a magical "cotton" blanket.

Maxwell, the St. Bernard dog, was enjoying the heat and the feel of the cotton as he lay there sleeping. His body spread out like a fireside rug, his chest rising and falling slowly, while small snores of contentment ruffled his drooling lips.

Cressida, the very proud cat, was sitting on her haunches not far from him, trying very hard to generate enough cat spit for her grooming, in an effort to ignore her slumbering companion.

Digger Bo, the acrobatic badger, was tumbling slower than usual, and Zippo, the rather animated and theatrical ant, was sitting next to them painting.

Aruna, the Great Horned Owl, was not visible, but sitting high in the tree's branches, hidden and enjoying the shade.

"The light is perfect—if you could just hold that pose a little longer, Maxwell, we are nearly there," voiced Zippo, painting furiously.

"I hate to break it to you, ‘Charlie Russell,’ but the dog hasn't moved for an hour at least. I think you can take your time with that paintbrush. And what is that ridiculous looking hat and jacket you are wearing? You have more paint on your outfit than you do on the paper. And where did you get that easel from?" joked Cressida, wondering exactly how so many personalities could live inside such a tiny creature.

"Well," replied Zippo without slowing his momentum. "Firstly, all great artists wear painter's whites—we have to look the part if we are to be taken seriously. Secondly, the paint that you see on them represents the artistic pain that has been accrued over a lifetime of struggles. And thirdly, I managed to persuade Maxwell to buy the easel for me using his Amazon Prime account—it was a bargain as he bought it on 30% off Thursday."

"I thought you were going to get a lightsaber?" questioned Digger Bo, who was taking a break from tumbling due to the heat, his whiskers flicking small beads of sweat as he spoke.

"Polymath buddy—remember. I mastered the Jedi arts, so now I am mastering the fine arts!"

Cressida couldn't resist a wry, warm smile at her truly unique friend.

"Morning, everyone," said B-Jay, finally getting a second to interrupt the conversation, his voice sounding a little troubled, echoed by a twitch of wing mirrors.

"Morning, B-Jay," replied Zippo, with a second paintbrush lodged between his clenched teeth. "If you have time to wait, I could paint you next," he continued. "The light is perfect and we should still have enough daylight for you to get your chrome all polished and shiny." He held the paintbrush at arm's length, checking proportions, before continuing to paint.

"That's okay," replied B-Jay, flashing his lights a few times, which Cressida presumed was the Morse code signal for ‘SOS.’ "Maybe another time. But I do have a question for you. I am not sure if I had a dream this morning or a recollection of one of our adventures."

"What was it about?" asked Aruna hooting loudly from his sheltered branch, the leaves shaking as he stretched a wing outwards, fanning himself.

"Well you were serving children drinks from your lemonade stand, Aruna, and it was next to a swimming pool. Zippo was dressed as a duck and was throwing grapes to baby sharks that were swimming in circles before him. I remember there was a song he was singing that was making Digger Bo tumble along the edge of the pool. I will do my best to remember how the song went." He cleared his throat and a puff of smoke appeared, along with a tiny exhaust rattle.

"Baby shark, baby shark do de do do de do do do—eat some grapes, eat some grapes, do de do do de do do do."

Everyone began laughing hysterically and it was at least five minutes before anyone could catch their breath to respond.

"Oh my," said Cressida, "And you think that might be real?"

"Now that would be an adventure definitely worth painting," said Zippo, struggling to keep a straight face while dripping more paint down the front of his whites.

"I think, actually I am sure, that was a dream," replied Aruna. "Although that would be an adventure to surpass all of our adventures." He returned his wing back to his side before flying to a lower branch.

"Adventure!" shouted Maxwell, leaping up awkwardly from his sleeping position, wagging his tail with furious excitement as he steadied his legs, one hind leg still numb from lying on it, twisting his otherwise vertical posture. "What adventure? Where? When?" he said looking all around.

"Oh yes," said Digger Bo in agreement. "Is it today?" Sweat flicked upwards as he initiated a backwards tumble flip.

"And like the Kraken, he has awoken," interjected Cressida, who had finished pruning and was stretched as long as possible on the warm grass, her comment full of her usual sass.

"Actually," began Aruna, twitching on the branch as he adjusted his claw holds, before stretching out his magnificent wings to cool himself with a few flaps. "You know it is July 4th today—the Day of Independence."

"I knew it!" voiced B-Jay, bouncing with excitement from one tire to the other. "Our leader has a plan for an adventure, I can feel it." His wiper blades fanning across the windshield on high speed.

"What is Independence Day?" asked Maxwell, his tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth, dripping with saliva due to the heat. His breathing seemed awkward, but natural for a dog sitting in the sun's direct path. He slowly shuffled toward the shade at the base of the tree.

"Independence Day represents a monumental moment in mankind's greatest historical adventure. In 1776, our Founding Fathers signed a special paper called the Declaration of Independence. This famous letter told the world that we were now going to make a new land where people could come to. A land where everyone is equal—a land where dreams can come true. A land called America! Now, every July, we celebrate the founding of this great new country, like a birthday, with flags, fireworks, and give thanks for being blessed with such opportunities and possibilities," said Aruna.

"So what is the adventure?" questioned Maxwell returning to a lying position, not really sure of what any of that meant. "Will it involve birthday cake?"

"Well there is a firework display tonight in the park. I guess we could meet up here later to watch it together. That might be fun," Aruna replied, his left eye initiating a slow double blink.

"Oh yes," responded B-Jay, "that does sound like a good adventure."

At that moment Zippo couldn't help himself. He put down his brushes before turning to Cressida and, in a very animated fashion, dropped to his knees with his hands held together like he was about to pray. Then, in a young, childlike voice started screaming, "Can we, mother, can we go, please, please, please, pretty please? Can we, mother?"

Cressida actually found this quite amusing and couldn't help but to respond with, "Ask your father; if he says it is okay, then I guess so!" Her tail flicked lightly at the tip while the rest of her body remained motionless.

Zippo swiveled on the spot and began the same conversation with Aruna. "Can we, dad, can we? Mom said we could!"

Everyone smiled at Zippo's antics, meanwhile hoping that the answer would be a resounding YES.

Much to their delight, Aruna nodded, or at least bobbed his thick neck, which they took as a sign of agreement. Minutes later they had concluded plans to meet up again later that day once Zippo had changed his clothes and Maxwell had a chance to have dinner; which was Cressida's idea, not wishing to endure his pain from the wafting smell of hot dogs.

The display was scheduled for 9:00 p.m. and they agreed it would be best to watch from the back of the park where it would be safe and away from the humans.

It was ten minutes before 9:00 p.m. when they returned and took up their desired positions by the tree, eagerly awaiting the display and chattering about the excitement they felt from being able to enjoy their first fireworks. All of a sudden they were startled as a pigeon burst across the nearby treeline, flapping up next to them—it was Sergeant Horatio Nelson. He landed next to Aruna with a coo-coo and a neck bobble and twitched his head twice with several blinks before settling.

"Hello again, old friend,” voiced Aruna turning his head toward him, his bright yellow eyes wide with pleasure. “What brings you here today? Have you come to enjoy the display?"

"Yes and no," replied Horatio. "I have come to oversee the display. Due to the nature of the fireworks containing delicate explosive materials, I have come to observe that our regiment completes the mission safely. It requires intricate timing, complete team coordination, and a delicate and disciplined handling of materials. As sergeant, it is my job to ensure all goes as planned with regard to mission protocols." He bobbed up and down once more, his throat gurgling with a sweet sound that Cressida assumed was very pigeon.

"I see," replied Aruna. "Well, carry on, Sergeant."

Zippo hadn't noticed Horatio; he was too busy on B-Jay’s hood practicing with his Jedi stick as Digger Bo tumbled before him. He had gone home in a painter's outfit and returned again as a Jedi Master. Both he and Digger Bo, having decided earlier that it might be fun to provide a firework mime.

As it got near to showtime, Cressida reclined casually in her usual passenger seat, with Maxwell stretched across the entire back seat, in the rear. Aruna and Horatio meanwhile, took up positions high in the tree to get a good view of the proceedings.

It wasn't long before the first rocket burst into the air with an ear-wrenching scream, before exploding into a myriad of colors; a glittering rainbow rained down slowly from the puff of smoke that lingered above it.

"Woo hoo!" cried Zippo from B-Jay's hood. "Get ready, Digger—this is going to be a fun enactment. When the next one goes off I want you to leap as high as you can, spread your arms and legs out as wide as you can before tumbling slowly to the ground. Don't forget to nail the landing!"

Digger Bo nodded, climbing onto B-Jay’s hood for extra height—he was ready.

Horatio spoke out loud, to no one in particular, "Operation Boom Boom has reached checkpoint one, on time, as planned."

A second firework whizzed its way upward. The dark night sky over Elmwood lit up, as a screech breeched the air sending the rocket upwards. As it reached a point where it was about to descend back down to earth, it erupted into a crackling fountain of sparkling golden sparkles, then spat out three separate bursts of showering emerald glitter, each burst spreading outwards, and each time proceeded by a loud bang.

"Incoming! Twelve o'clock high!" Horatio barked, snapping a sharp salute to the rocket. "Magnificent trajectory, sir! So far, so good."

Zippo spun his Jedi stick upward as the rocket launched, timed to match the same moment of Digger Bo’s leap, before bringing it down slowly, shaking it like a pepper pot. As he brought the stick to a halt, Digger Bo tumbled downwards, executing the perfect landing.

"Good job, buddy," Zippo said, "flawless execution on the landing."

Cressida glanced up at each firework, seemingly enjoying them slightly, but as normal, too busy grooming to care as much as the others. On the occasions she did glance upwards, her golden eyes reflected their colors in her large dark pupils.

Aruna and Horatio exchanged comments, watching together from the tree, while B-Jay sitting below them enjoyed both the visual display from Zippo and Digger Bo, while marveling at the display of the fireworks before him. He was in his happy place, enjoying the show with his friends. His lights flickered gently as each firework faded into a smoky trail, fluttering lightly on the night's breeze before fading away.

It was at least another five very loud fireworks later and Zippo and Digger Bo were showing no signs of slowing down with their mime. Digger Bo was scrambling back onto B-Jay’s hood for his next performance, his fur still bristling and his ears still pinned backwards from his smiling tufted face. The fireworks were building, louder and louder and closer together in time. Suddenly, Digger Bo stopped.

"Hey buddy, you need to get back up here quicker. I can't do this without you," said Zippo, his tiny arms aching slightly from all the waving around and having orchestrated the last firework alone, without the aid of his tumbling sidekick.

"Where is Maxwell?" Digger Bo inquired, his dark eyes widening as he surveyed the empty back seat where Maxwell always sat and was sitting when the display initially began. "He was here a minute ago and now he's not," he said with a quiver in his voice.

Zippo, concerned at the tone in his compatriot's voice, turned around so fast that his Jedi robe twisted awkwardly, wrapping itself around the arm that was wielding his Jedi stick, forcing him to unravel it before he could look up. His heart started to beat faster when he saw the empty back seat, realizing that Maxwell had vanished. He stood there for at least a minute, along with Digger Bo; both wearing the same puzzled expressions and both with jaws wide open, panic etched across their faces.

"Maybe he went for a hot dog," replied Cressida, unconcerned. "It must be at least an hour since he last ate."

"Well, I did feel him shivering after the first couple of loud bangs," said B-Jay. "I thought maybe he was cold."

"Maybe he went to get a woolly sweater," said Zippo, scanning the area for footprints. Trying to calm himself with a logical explanation, while really fearing the worst.

"Maybe he got scared and ran off," voiced Aruna with concern, his eyes blinking as he twitched his neck around searching for clues. "Some of those rockets were very loud. Dogs don't like loud noises. I think we should go and look for him to make sure he is okay."

B-Jay agreed. He did not enjoy the thought of an adventure where any of his friends felt scared. Even if it was a special Day of Independence and even if some of his friends were having an amazing time, his friends' feelings were more important than the occasion. He started his engine and switched on his high beams, as Zippo and Digger Bo climbed aboard in a speedy fashion.

"We need to find him stat," voiced Horatio with authority. "I’ve seen this happen many times before—he's suffering from what we in the services call shell shock. He’s endured a trauma and we need to find him ASAP or it could develop into a case of PTSD, and we don’t want that. No man gets left behind on my watch."

"This sounds serious," interjected Zippo, "I don't want to imagine my friend suffering all alone. I say we exit stage right and go look for him. But how will we find him? Do you have any ideas, Horatio? You seem to have experience in these matters. We need a mission brief."

"Stand easy, youngblood. I know exactly what to do.” His throat muffled a chortling sound before he continued. “Aruna and I will take to the skies and survey the land. Meanwhile, you guys will check the perimeter for any tracks he might have left. If you don't hear from us in 10 minutes, we will rendezvous back here for a status update—synchronize internal watches—we meet back here at 22:00 hours." And with that, Aruna and Horatio flexed their wings and took to the skies; within a heartbeat, they were soaring upwards, circling the field and scanning with their superior eyesight, inch by inch.

B-Jay spun around with impressive speed and they began their slow check along the side of the road. Everyone was standing upright, staring intently at everything that passed by. The minutes ticked by slowly and no one spoke for a while. They were too busy looking at every bush and every rock as they traversed the road at a snail's pace. B-Jay illuminated everything in front of them with his high beams, as they flicked this way and that. Even Cressida, who had stopped grooming to help in the search, seemed concerned. He might be a dog, but he was her dog. He must be found. Her tail remained limp, hanging behind her showing the measure of concern that was building up inside her.

They had traveled maybe half a mile, slowly but surely, not wishing to let their trepidation make them hurry and possibly miss him. They had scanned and inspected everything; nothing passed them without one pair of eyes laying sight to it. He might be a big dog but he would surely have found somewhere dark and safe to hide. They just didn’t know where that place was, but they were determined to look until they found it.

Moments later, with their desperation increasing, a shadow appeared over the car as Horatio descended from high. He hovered overhead as his wings wafted powerfully, keeping a stable point just above them. "We have located Big Dog—or at least we think it is him. There is a tail protruding from Digger Bo's burrow. It seems he ran home to surroundings that made him feel safe. Head for the cottonwood tree, we will meet you there," he voiced, his eyes blinking against the wind as he launched himself forward once more.

B-Jay sped up without hesitation, his tires screaming at the tarmac as he changed quickly to a higher gear; the tension in the car was calming as he built up speed, each one thankful, knowing now that Maxwell was at least safe and they would soon be with him.

When they arrived at the tree they could see immediately it was Maxwell. His tail wasn't wagging in the usual manner; it was curled in a way to suggest he was indeed frightened. Small moans, quivering and whiney came from inside the burrow, as Maxwell crouched there, his hinds legs trembling either side of his drooped tail.

They all left exited the vehicle swiftly and proceeded to the burrow to check on their friend.

"Come on, Big Dog," said Horatio, his head bobbing as he spoke. "There is no reason to cower in that dark hole. You need to step up, find your courage, man, and face this like a soldier."

Maxwell continued to shake. It wasn't working. They all looked at each other, not knowing what to do to bring Maxwell out of his fear. This was a new experience to all of them.

Suddenly the most unexpected of events transpired as Cressida pushed Horatio aside forcefully with a paw, saying, "He is not a soldier; he is a very confused and very scared dog, with feelings. I will handle this if you don't mind." Her face contorted and the fur along her spine bristled to show how serious she was. Her eyes narrowed as she stared him in the eye.

Everyone looked at each other with the same perplexed expression. Cressida was going to deal with this. Even Aruna shrugged his shoulders as if to suggest he had no idea what was going on. He might be wise, but he too felt that he was out of his depth in dealing with this trauma. He remained motionless, eyes wide open and not blinking. His beak clicking like a ticking clock.

"Listen, Maxwell," said Cressida, her tone calm and kind. "You are okay now,” she whispered. “You're home and your family is here. We are worried about you and want to make sure you are okay. Couldn't you come back to us and leave this dark place that you have found yourself in? We love you and want to make sure you are okay. Please come out."

Zippo looked like he was going to say something unnecessary about Cressida's sudden change of personality when she turned to him and said, "Do you have something that would comfort our friend, like a blanket, or something familiar that he could hold, to remind him he is safe and at home?"

Zippo didn't respond with any words; he leapt in response, racing behind the tree as fast as his little ant legs would obey, reappearing seconds later having removed his precious Jedi master's robe, before changing back into his painter's whites. "Will this do?" he said, handing her the robe, just in time, as Maxwell wriggled before backing out of the hole with a tiny whimper.

"That will do nicely," approved Cressida, handing it to Maxwell, who took it eagerly, before holding it tight to his chest.

Cressida didn't say much more, she didn’t need to. She just curled up next to Maxwell, leaning in close to his shivering body and comforted him in the only way she knew, by licking his face as a mother might, gently and reassuringly until he calmed and came back to them. A few minutes of her doing this and seeing his friends drawing close, his tail started to show signs of a little wiggle.

As he could see that Maxwell was returning to a semblance of himself, Horatio gave a throat chortle and a coo, as he gave her a huge nod of approval before exclaiming, "First-class execution of duty, young lady," and with that, and knowing he was no longer needed, he returned to the park to oversee the remainder of the firework display.

Everyone else closed around their friend, keeping him warm and more importantly letting him know that they all cared, and they remained that way for the rest of the evening. An hour or so later, B-Jay reluctantly departed, heading toward home.

When B-Jay returned to his garage, turning his engine off. The only sound that disturbed his thoughts was a slight pinging sound from his warm manifold as it cooled. He realized that although the adventure hadn't gone quite as planned, the bonds of friendship between them had grown immeasurably. He took great comfort in that as he drifted back to sleep, dreaming once more of lemonade stands and baby sharks.