Buddy and the Fireworks

When Buddy came home to the big stone house in Tennessee, he was only a puppy. According to the folks that were giving the puppies away, Buddy was half Collie and half German Shepherd. When Buddy began to grow and became the best friend of a particular Marco Beach Boy who did not know he was to become a tropical islander, the setting for a boy and his dog in east Tennessee was magical.

The sandstone house was set between two apple orchards. In spring, the apple blossoms on the trees were as white as a mountain snow at Christmas Time. Throughout the seasons, Buddy and the Beach Boy were thriving and learning the ways of the mountain folk on the Cumberland Plateau. Many places in Tennessee believe that they are living on Rocky Top, but on the largest plateau in America, the soil is only about three inches deep before any shovel will find the most beautiful sandstone anywhere.

Of course, Buddy and the Beach Boy were not alone. There was mama and daddy, and granny. Granny lived on the far side of one of the apple orchards in a house Daddy built just for her. There were also four horses, ten barn cats, ducks for the creek where the horses drank, and a flock of yard bird chickens whose numbers were always changing. The chicken count was always fluid because of the eggs that were hatching and Granny, who was quicker than the yard birds and more than ready to serve southern fried chicken on the weekends.

During the fateful fireworks summer when Buddy and the Beach Boy were inseparable, and the apples in the trees were growing fast, the horses would stand at the gate to the corral and stare at the hanging fruit with a longing in their eyes. This was when the barn cats would slip through the fence with indifference and find a place to sunbathe and snooze on the many patios that were a continuous skirt around the big stone house.

After the June apples were ripe and summer was coming on strong, Daddy made just about the best announcement anyone could imagine. “Tomorrow we are driving down to the big fireworks store. The Fourth of July is just around the corner and we are going to buy the biggest, scariest, and the best fireworks money can buy. This will be a Fourth of July celebration no one will ever forget!”

Daddy was right, but not quite in the way he imagined. On the big day of the fireworks purchase, everyone but Granny piled into the car. Buddy, as usual, was hanging his head out the window in the back seat and was as happy as a young dog could be.

Daddy was not kidding about the fireworks. They bought giant packs of the infamous Black Cat firecrackers. They bought rockets on sticks that were certain to reach the lofty heights of professional fireworks shows, and finally after speaking to the big fireworks manager who was just about as big as a house, Daddy bought a dozen of the huge aerial displays that looked like colorful cannons waiting to attack the sky.

On the way home, Buddy was distracted. He did not want to ride with his head out the window, but instead, he was fascinated with the large paper bags that held the treasure trove of newly procured fireworks. He could not keep his nose out of the bags stuffed with explosives and was eagerly sniffing the contents until he had to be exiled to the front seat.

After Buddy settled down, the Marco Beach Boy also examined the giant fireworks purchase. Inside the six big bags, the scent was exotic, dangerous, and full of adventurous possibilities. This, of course, was the smell of war movies and gunpowder.

When Independence Day finally arrived, the day for the Beach Boy and Buddy was dragging like never before. It took forever to get to lunch and then another eternity for Daddy to get home from work. When Daddy did arrive, he made another announcement. “I’ve invited some of the families at work to come and watch our fireworks.” This created even more excitement except for Mother and Granny who were upset they had no warning to prepare more food.

After the sun finally began a reluctant descent through the western orchard, the backyard picnic tables were all in place along with every lounge and sitting chair the big stone house could muster. Just before dark, about 30 friends and family were gathering around the seating and the flowerbeds that were facing the only clearing in the apple trees.

After sunset, everyone was ready. The horses were curious and watching from the pasture gate, the barn cats were still soaking up the last of the warmth on the patios, and Granny, as usual, was watching the chickens peck around the grass. Buddy was so excited he was running around the orchard and barking at everything.

When the first stars began to shine, Daddy announced to everyone that this would be a safe but extravagant fireworks show. Daddy was going to light the fireworks in the clearing and then get away fast to watch with everyone else.

First came the big belts of Black Cat firecrackers. The sound, the sparks, and the jumping light when the gunpowder exploded was enough to make all the women and a few of the men cover their ears. The horses bolted, the cats sprang up and headed for the barn, and Buddy truly went crazy as he ran in circles around the launching site that was the clearing in the orchard. Buddy was half Collie, and his barking was nonstop.

After a reprehensive look from Mama, Daddy decided to light one of the colorful big aerial cannons. With the biggest cardboard cannon looking like a mortar in a war movie, Daddy approached carefully and lit the long green fuse.

When Daddy was in the safe zone with everyone else and watching intently the fizzing sparks of the burning fuse, Buddy ran over to the big aerial cannon, barked three times, and then knocked the fat cardboard tube and its wooden base down on the ground. There was no time for anyone to do anything. When the now horizontal cannon fired, it was pointing toward everyone who was frozen and watching. The star shell shot straight into the bags where almost all of the remaining fireworks were waiting, and all the friends and family scattered in every direction imaginable just before all the bags of fireworks exploded and shot flaming terror in every direction.

The important lesson from Buddy and the Fireworks is simple - even with the best intentions fireworks can go terribly wrong at exactly the wrong time, and everyone that might be a little slow at getting out of the way might need to bring a change of dry underwear.