Booneville Retribution (2 page)

Despite the crappy parade, and much to Dawn’s irritation, I was still smiling. Today was the day I was going to finally shove it to Halport Industries. I let my hand slide over the detonator inside my pocket. With one push of a button, I was going to completely alter the day’s celebration.

After the parade, I sprung for a couple of corn dogs and two lemonade shake-ups. Dawn loved lemon shake-ups. We stayed in our chairs, eating and watching the crowd as it gathered in the square for a festival. Games for the kids and craft booths were set up, the Lions’ fried pork chop sandwiches, and Gus Syverson, dressed as a clown, twisted balloon animals for the children while soliciting mayoral votes from their parents.

From time to time, I allowed my gaze to wander across the square to the abandoned Halport plant. If my buddies wondered why I wasn’t being my normal social self, they didn’t bother to ask. Most of them were too busy filling plastic cups at the beer garden, drinking down the last of their Halport checks one cup at a time. Of course, many of my friends were gone, having turned back their houses to the bank and left town. And then there was Todd Landry. He was gone for good. I raised my lemon shake-up in a mock toast. “Tonight’s for you, buddy,” I muttered under my breath.

“What did you say?” Dawn squawked.

“Nothing, dear. Just thinking out loud.”

She was giving me that look again. I turned away. Unfortunately, the direction I looked just happened to be where the Boonville High dance squad was conducting a carwash fundraiser. My eyes seemed to have a mind of their own, settling upon the half-dozen well-endowed, bikini-clad girls who were busy sudsing up cars.

“What are you looking at?” Dawn hissed, smacking my arm.

I turned back, a ready excuse on the tip of my tongue, but she was already standing, gathering her things.

“I’ve had about enough of you, Larry. Don’t think that I don’t know what’s going on.”

I stared in disbelief. She knew about the detonator? About my plan?

“Just look at you. Staring at those half-naked girls! I know what you’re thinking about. That’s all you men think about. And I know why you’ve been smiling so much lately. You’ve got something going on the side, don’t you? Well, don’t think that I’m going to be putting up with that!”

She had it all wrong, but I wasn’t about to correct her. She had her lawn chair folded and purse slung over her shoulder, all ready to make a dramatic exit. Why would I want to chance it that she might stick around longer? Besides, she’d know the real truth later. Everyone would.

The afternoon passed quickly and soon the focus of the crowd turned to a makeshift stage in front of the courthouse where a local rock band was setting up. They were hauling out amplifiers, subwoofers, and other equipment that must have cost the young punks their whole summer earnings put together. I watched them, thinking how ironic it was that they really had no idea what the Fourth of July was really about. Kids these days hadn’t a clue about what it was to fight and die for freedom. Hell, the closest they got to real combat was at the end of some game controller.

I hung out and listened to them play for a while. I didn’t recognize any of the tunes—mostly just modern crap. It was no surprise that only the kids were dancing while their parents stood off to the side, gathered in small groups, chatting. Every once in a while, a piece of their conversation would float over the top of the amplified racket coming from the center of the square. They were all talking about the same thing: no money, no jobs, and poor Todd Landry.

The snippets of their conversations reinforced my resolve to carry out my plan. I slipped away, heading to the alley running aside the abandoned plant. It was time to put my plan into place.

Mindful of the detonator in my pocket, I worked quickly checking over my work, repositioning a few canisters, and resetting fuses. A few minutes passed before I heard the band playing its final song. It was a slow one for all the couples in the crowd. I felt a little sad twinge. Dawn and I used to always dance the last song together. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. What if—

I shook it off. No time for second thoughts. I listened carefully for the last chord, knowing that the crowd would soon start to disperse. It was time. Time to show this town that Halport wasn’t going to win.

I slid my thumb over the detonator.

The first two canisters exploded into the night air with thunderous reports that rocked the sky and shook the ground. The crowd cringed, voices screamed out in shock, babies whaled with fear.

Then … before the pungent after-whiff of sulfur could fade … red, white, and blue sparks burst into the air. Explosion after colorful explosion lit the sky in front of the hollow shell of a building that was once Halport Industries.

I watched as the collective gaze of my friends and neighbors turned upward, mesmerized by each pop of color and fading thread of light. After each lingering echo they cheered and clapped. It was the most dazzling fireworks display that Booneville had ever seen. For a few sensational minutes, everyone forgot their troubles and the devastation that had fallen upon our town. We forgot the impending funeral of one of our youth, robbed of his life by the senseless decisions of an uncaring corporation.

I looked on with pride. Sure, setting off explosives inside the city limits was illegal. Actually, smuggling them across the border and detonating them without the proper pyrotechnic license was enough to land me in deep trouble with the ATF for years. Not to mention that I was now officially broke. But, at least I had shown everyone that Halport may have taken our livelihoods, but it couldn’t take away Booneville’s Fourth of July Spirit. Who knew how I would feel tomorrow, but tonight, I felt the satisfaction of retribution.

Now, I only had to worry about what Dawn would say when she heard about this.