Aunt Carole, the Fireworks, and the Rocket: Part #2

When the upcoming Fourth of July began approaching like a wild pack of out-of-control racecars at the Daytona Speedway, Aunt Carole spent a day at the pool organizing the most extravagant American birthday celebration ever.

The plan was simple, but also an obligation. Grandmother was well deserving of all she had accomplished. Thankfully, with liberty and freedom, and a freewheeling capitalist society with plenty of rewards for anyone who chose to work at a dream and reach for the stars, anything was truly possible in the land of the free and the home of the brave.

Grandmother had been through tons of drama and turmoil to reach her level of success and prosperity. She was exceptionally special and full of grace and forgiveness for the quirky granddaughter who perhaps had a nonconforming point of view on almost everything, but with a little of the matriarch’s guidance and support, Aunt Carole felt that she too had endless possibilities for prosperity and romance; especially if everything went according to plan for the amazing party.

Because she had booked a full spa day for Grandmother, the matriarch would be away from the waterfront estate until the celebration began at sunset. With this plan in place, the preparations for the party should be ready for the gala to begin just before dark.

As she sipped her coffee and watched the sun climb over the mangroves at the dawn of the biggest Saturday ever, Aunt Carole scrolled on her phone to make sure all her arrangements for the space age celebration were ready to launch the big day.

Many of the Amazon trucks had already made deliveries. The designer edible medial brownies had arrived. The fabulous silver space suit that was looking like aluminum foil with red trim was perfect, as were the moon boots and the hairpiece fascinator that would come into play later.

The drone company was busy under the big tent by the seawall and already test-flying their “swarm” of one hundred light-producing flying objects. The theme for the drones was to be a surprise as Aunt Carole told the young and enthusiastic team to make the theatrical scene in the sky “appropriate.”

The crew with the giant fireworks rocket was even more impressive. These individuals with the “Rocketeer” coveralls had been working through the night, and now with the early morning light, the assembled rocket was standing as tall as Grandmother’s three-story estate.

By midmorning, the fire pit was ignited, cooking, and smelling like the best barbecue this side of Texas.

The sound system was ready before lunch, and although the speaker setup was not quite up to rock-concert level, the stage and the towering light platforms were. Aunt Carole was planning to use the stage to orchestrate and introduce the festivities and illuminate her space suit, her moon boots, and her fabulous out-of-this-world hairstyle.

As the late afternoon progressed, the excitement hovering over the palatial estate was contagious. Also bubbling with anticipation were the social media platforms from all of the various teams that were on contract to produce the food, the sound and light stage, the swarm of drones, and the huge fireworks rocket. No one had ever seen anything like this, and everyone was beyond excited—especially Aunt Carole.

The huge Midwestern family began to arrive and wander through the “celebration park,” shortly before lunch, and by cocktail time, it became obvious the number of invited guests was far outnumbering Grandmother’s friends and relatives. The estate was packed, the music loud, and the energy surging through the crowd was that of a surprise party but everyone was wondering what the surprise would be.

The first sign of trouble began just before sunset. This paradox rose quickly in the form of a dark cloud building over the mangroves. With a seemingly monstrous intent, the rising storm quickly began to loom over the rocket in the backyard of the estate, the gathered swarm of drones with their teenage beekeepers, and the rock star stage that was clearly prepping for something that was about to go viral—one way or another.

When all of the caterers and contract crew began to approach Aunt Carole in her silver space suit, moon boots, and orbital hairdo and headpiece fascinator, she was like a true American general ready to command her troops. She was openly brave, steadfast, and confident in the face of any adversity.

As the moments passed, it became obvious this was not Aunt Carole’s first rodeo. With the first lightning strike, clearly electrocuting an island of mangroves opposite the estate, and the following thunderclap arriving like an earthquake, the general in the space suit pointed to the rocket and ordered an immediate launch. The rocketeers were ready, but when the very tall missile began to shake, rattle, and roll, as it rose high over the waterfront and into the storm, the crowd was thunderstruck again as lightning kissed the rocket briefly before the rising missile burst into the most colorful display of fireworks anyone had ever seen.

Because another salvo of lightning parted the water halfway to the mangroves, Aunt Carole, in all her majesty, ordered the swarm of drones launched and everyone at the festival inside the house for shelter.

After the drones began the counterattack into the clouds, the lightning was defeated, but the dark skies were the perfect backdrop for half of the drones to depict Aunt Carole in her space suit atop a Paul Revere horse, saving everyone from the other half of the drones that were escaping dollar signs fleeing before her attack.

Unbeknownst to Aunt Carole, Grandmother had arrived home early and was watching everything and smiling as she munched on one of those delicious edible brownies.