After the fireworks, I felt an instinctive desire to get home. I had been gone for hours, and even though I’d had an incredible day, I knew I couldn’t stay with Gary and “the posse.”
It seemed that Gary and his friends were going to keep partying into the night, so I told him I had to move along. I thought I saw a look of disappointment flash across his eyes, but he grinned awkwardly as he rubbed the back of his neck and said, “Well, if you’re ever passing through this way again, look me up!”
“I will.” I replied, knowing how unlikely that was. Gary handed me a small American flag decoration as though it was a Daisy freshly cut from the garden. I unsuccessfully tried to hide my delight as I took the flag from him. We stood there, smiling awkwardly at one another, neither one of us knowing exactly what else to say. Finally, I waved the flag playfully in front of us, and we both laughed as the tension dissipated.
Although Gary offered to give me a ride, I insisted that I could make it on my own. After many hugs and goodbyes, I was finally able to begin my journey down the street, carrying the suitcase in one hand, with the miniature American flag in the other, waving gently with each step I took.
I looked down at the brown suitcase and said, “Shall we go home now?” The familiar hum in my brain told me that the suitcase was in agreement, and I noticed that gradually it was becoming more and more difficult to walk, as though I was sinking in Jell-O and the world around me faded away. A sudden flash of light forced me to close my eyes. And just as quickly as it began, the resistance I’d felt around my body ended abruptly and, when my eyes popped open, I was on the floor of my spare room.
The suitcase was sitting next to me, looking innocent and somehow pleased with itself. And I was both shocked and elated. I was half shrieking with delight, giggling furiously, and practically bouncing off the walls. In my excitement I tried to pick up the suitcase, but it was heavier than I remembered it being.
Confused, and a tiny bit scared, I opened up the suitcase. There, inside, was Gary’s radio/8-track player and the jar that had once been filled with lemonade. I felt a twinge of guilt as I wondered if Gary would miss his things, but the feeling of guilt was soon replaced with gratitude: I was glad to have a souvenir of a night I’d surely never forget.
