There was a bright light shining in my eyes when I realized that I wasn’t spinning anymore. I looked up and recognized the light as the sun. It was shining with that particular late afternoon glow, when the sun begins its descent but wants to show off a little bit before clocking out for the day.
A surge of adrenaline coursed through my veins as I realized that the suitcase had done it again!
I was standing in the middle of a street that snaked through a cozy looking neighborhood. I could smell hot dogs grilling, and children laughing off in the distance, but where was I? As I scanned the immediate area, I realized that the suitcase was sitting on the ground next to me.
I frowned slightly at the brown bag. “You could give me some warning, you know.” I didn’t get the feeling that the suitcase was penitent, but I couldn’t be upset: this is what I’d hoped for. I timidly reached for the suitcase again, wondering if touching it would transport me back home, before I had the chance to explore my new surroundings, but nothing happened.
I tried to look inconspicuous as I strode down the sidewalk of the neighborhood, suitcase in tow, taking in my surroundings.
The neighborhood was abuzz with activity and it seemed like everyone was outside. Several children whizzed by me on bikes, followed by a third wearing roller skates. I scanned the people I could see outside, and I noted long hair, curtain bangs, ringer shirts, tube socks, and finally, the thing that sealed the deal: bell-bottoms. I was in the 70’s.
I hoped I didn’t look too out of place, but then I remembered my outfit! I’d been trying to recreate a 70’s vibe. Maybe I’d blend in.
“Hey! Are you okay?” I heard a voice call out to me. I turned to see a man standing in front of one of the houses. He was wearing tiny shorts with tube socks pulled up to his knees. I looked into his face and saw bright blue eyes hiding under his swoop of golden bangs and a friendly smile beneath his impressive mustache.
I answered nervously, “I…I think I’m a bit lost.”
“That’s obvious.” The man replied. He gestured to my suitcase, “From out of town?”
My heart was in my throat as I replied, “You could say that.” I paused for a moment, not wanting to lie or give him too much information. “My friends kinda ditched me.”
The man’s mustache twitched slightly, until he burst into a big smile, “Well, you’re welcome to join us!” He gestured to the gaggle of people gathering in his yard. It was a mixture of men and women, all about my age. They had set up aluminum lawn chairs with webbed thatching in the yard and there was a spread of food on a folding table with more avocado green and orange Tupperware than I’d seen since I was a child. Someone was grilling hot dogs and hamburgers. It looked…fun.
I turned to the man and said, “What’s the occasion?”
He twisted his eyebrows quizzically and said, “We’re just setting up to enjoy some fireworks.”
“Fireworks?” I replied. I thought about the bicentennial shirt I was wearing. Was it possible that it could be 1976? I took a gamble. “…what a year to celebrate!”
“You said it, Sister.” The man grinned. “I’m Gary. I’ll introduce you to the posse.”
I was ushered into the group and introduced to a dozen friendly faces who seemed genuinely interested in meeting me. Immediately, these complete strangers treated me like I was one of their own. That afternoon, I talked, and ate, and laughed until I felt my sides would burst. It was honestly the best party I’d been to in my adult life.
As the sky began to darken, Gary approached with a jar full of lemonade. He handed it to me as he took a seat. “Didja enjoy the party?” Gary asked, flipping his head to the side to help clear his bangs from his shining blue eyes.
“It’s been awesome,” I replied, as I unscrewed the lid of the jar, noticing the patriotic theme continuing. They really had gone all out.
“Right on.” Gary said. “And it’s about to get better.”
I looked at Gary questioningly and he motioned to the sky. “The show’s about to start.”
Gary placed a little radio/8-track player on the ground next to us and flipped the switch. As the night sky began to light up with radiant light, the box sang:
“Don’t let me hear you say life’s taking you nowhere (Angel)
Come get up, my baby
Look at that sky, life’s begun
Nights are warm and the days are young
Come get up, my baby…”
I didn’t know the song but I recognized the unique timbre of David Bowie’s voice emanating through the speakers. And as Gary reached over and took my hand, it seemed as though the song was chosen just for me.
I smiled inwardly as I felt the reverberation of the fireworks in my chest and the warmth of Gary’s hand in mine. The butterflies in my stomach took a leap of joy as I realized that my days of going nowhere were over. The sky was the limit and I was a rocket on the 4th of July.
