Summer Festivals

Her bosom heaved in the sweltering sun, the taste of sweet cider going straight to her head and making her senses swirl for a moment as she threw her head back and laughed at the juggler dancing on stage in a brightly colored coat. The whole of the world was there for her entertainment, and she drank it all in. Perhaps a little too deeply.

“I’m bored,” she said simply, throwing a pout at the stage as the juggler pulled a lawnmower out of his hat. “Magic is boring. Let’s go get something else to drink.” She flung her head back and drained the last half of her pint in one long swallow. A bit of the dark liquid dribbling out of the corner of her mouth. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand before abruptly twirling and cranking the arm of her date along with her, a very disheveled-looking man with a balding pate and a navy suit that he had clearly slept in.

His eyes go wide as he quickly suppresses an exclamation of pain at the sudden discomfort of being pulled against his will. He quickly covers, “Ay-I think I saw some pumpkin cider over here that you haven’t tried, dear.”

“I don’t want the pumpkin right now. Let’s go over here,” she pulls him along, away from the stage and out of sight. Their story is over for now. My attention returns to the crowd around me, sliding over the families watching the acts on stages before settling on a backpack nestled between the kegs. Bing-pot. I make a mental note to myself to figure out a better catchphrase, because that was terrible.

The bright pink sequins stand out amidst the pale-yellow straw thrown about, decorating the dance floor and contrasting well with the hard metal sheen of empty kegs. Children and their parents gather around the stage, using the various bales and kegs as makeshift seating. The backpack stands slightly apart, off to the side and hidden. Whomever put it there didn’t want to pay attention to it, doing what they could to compensate for the glitzy way the sequins looked amongst the rustic decorations. I simply walk over and grab it, like it was mine. Who would say otherwise? If you don’t mind, I’ve gotta get back to my daughter in the bathroom. Please leave me be.

I’m not proud of the ease with which the lie comes to mind, or the way with which it will fall from my lips if opportunity presents. Still, the way of the world is that sometimes when you leave your backpack unattended, it walks away. Sorry you had to find out this lesson the hard way, kid.

As I walk, I open the backpack to rummage through the contents. Diapers and formula. Nothing of any value to me. Oh, wait! Stashed at the very bottom, in the folds along the bottom, was a small, bronze-colored amulet. It didn’t look like much, but it’d make a nice little gift for somebody. It looks to be some sort of plastic and glass number. Costume jewelry. Perhaps some kid will like it. I slip the necklace into my pocket and zip the bag back up.

I ditch the stuff I didn’t want in a nearby stroller when a young mother spins to flirt with a group of students. A rowing team, judging by the matching U of M Rowing Team tank tops. Apparently, it’s her lucky day all around. I make sure to be gone and doing something else by the time she notices. If she notices. The rowing team appears to demand an unhealthy amount of her attention.

The drunken woman and disheveled man from earlier seem to have fallen over and were wrestling in the mud. Well, that’s what parents were telling their children who asked too many questions at any rate. The reality was perhaps a little more amorous, if no less passionate. Security guards in green t-shirts rush to help the couple to their feet. Nothing to see here, folks. Neither the woman nor the man seemed particularly apologetic for the display as the woman makes a beeline for the nearest tent. I follow her lead and go to get a drink myself.

Standing in line beneath the sun, my hand goes to the necklace in my pocket as I fidget. The amulet feels oddly heavy beneath my fingers as a bead of breaks out on my brow. The sun becomes more oppressive in its heat and the laughter around me sharpens to a metallic edge. It’s almost too much to simply stand in line, but perseverance pays off. I let the necklace fall back into my pocket as I approach the table, stepping into the cool shade beneath the canopy.

“I’ll have the Unicorn Blood, please,” I say cheerily to the woman doling out the brew, “Where do I put my ticket? Right here? Got it. I love this weather we’re having, don’t you? Oh yes. I see. That man on the stage up there? He is wonderful, isn’t he? Yes, thank you again!”

I wander away from the interaction, unsure as to what just happened but aware that now I have a cold cider in my hands and the day has returned to a more pleasant warmth as the soft caress of the sun warmed my skin. I sip it and watch the guitarist on stage with renewed interest.

Satisfied that I wasn’t going to miss anything special, I turned back towards the crowd. One way or another, I am determined to enjoy the day. It shouldn’t be that difficult, really. Good weather, tolerable music, and cold cider. What more does one want?

A tall woman in a red dress, her hair done in tails and her beard braided to match with almost too-heavy eye shadow and a stride that dared onlookers to try and give her a sense of place, walks across my vision. I can’t help but notice. I smile as her significant other struggles to keep up with her pace. Ambition and confidence will get you everywhere.

I take a seat off to the side of the concourse in the cool grass, under the shade of a maple and sip on my cider. The wind breathes across my face and I close my eyes, as my nostrils fill with the scent of apples and bodies co-mingling in the heat. Off in the distance, the sound of a child laughing punctuates the silent backdrop provided by the white noise happily provided by the guitarist working the crowd. For a moment, I am allowed to be at peace and there is nothing that needs to be done.

I am abruptly woken from my reveries as a wasp drawn to my cider flits about my head.

“Leave me alone, Wasp. You are being very loud, and it is making it difficult for me to enjoy the beauty of the day,” I glare at the Wasp.

“Bzzz bzzz bzzzzzzzzzzzzz,” the Wasp droned about my head in response.

“This is not what you want, and I am not looking for any trouble, Wasp. Please go away now, I think I saw some flowers over there,” I implore as I gesture to some nearby wildflowers.

“Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz,” the Wasp whines in response.

“Very well, but remember that this is all on you,” I admonish and offer the cup to the Wasp. “Drink your fill. Drink until you drown, if you wish. But I’m telling you, this is not for you.”

“Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzz bzzzzzzzz bzzt,” the Wasp complains, before wandering off to the nearby flowers.

“A wise choice,” I think after the Wasp and smile as it flirts amongst the wildflowers, content with the business of being a Wasp.

I close my eyes, basking in the warmth of the shade and letting the droning sounds of summer envelop me. I take a sip of my cider.

At first, I feel little more than a slight twinge. I spit, thinking that I’ve swallowed some sort of twig.

“Bzz Zzzt bzzzz,” the Wasp drones in front of my eyes.

“Oh, you bathtard,” I swear at the Wasp as my tongue begins to swell from the increasing pain. “I thought we had an underthtanding.” The Wasp wanders back to the wildflowers, leaving me to my growing misery.

Shakily climbing to my feet, my head swims with the sudden rush of having a tiny insect light your mouth on fire. My tongue and eyes begin to rapidly swell shut. I look around through hazy eyes, trying to find the medical tent. Not quite able to do that, I set my sights on a nearby beer station and stumble forward, one foot in front of the other. I blink and run into something.

Upon opening my eyes, I’m staring up at a light and there’s somebody standing over me.

“Can you hear me? Patient is unresponsive. Male. Mid-30’s. Sir, are you awake? Can you hear me?”, what I assume is a paramedic is speaking into a walkie-talkie.

I mutter something. My tongue is so swollen that even I don’t know what I’m saying. But it’s something.

“Patient is awake and responding…” I close my eyes against the brightness of the light.

I’m jostled awake again as somebody shoves a tube down my throat. For a moment I panic, I can already barely breathe! I relax as the oxygen begins to flow and I can breathe again. A tube. It’s just a tube. Unnecessary, but I suppose I appreciate the sentiment. And unnecessary or not, it was objectively easier to breathe. I give a thumbs up to the paramedic as my attention snaps back into focus and I put together what happened.

The paramedic provides me with a pen and some paper on the way to the hospital, so I can write. I tell them what happened, leaving out the part about how the bee betrayed me and focusing more on the parts about being stung. The paramedic stifles a laugh as I’m jabbed with an epipen. By the time we arrive at the hospital, I’m already beginning to notice that my vision is clearing up. I’m exhausted. They decide to keep me for a while, just to keep an eye on me and I pass out. I am allowed to sleep.

I awaken on a cot in a hallway to a grumpy nurse waving discharge papers at me. I sign them, unable to process what is on the pages in any sort of real way, leaving vague marks where the nurse motions. Before I know what to think, I am left alone holding my pants. I walk a little way out of the hospital before taking a moment to put them on.

The hospital is in the middle of nowhere. Walking out of the front door, an expansive parking lot yawns before me, peppered with cars here and there. Patients, visitors, doctors… the parking lot was large enough to accommodate them all and then some. Beyond the pavement, nothing but rolling hills of green, the odd old farm here and there dotting the landscape with a sparseness that punctuated how profoundly “nowhere” I was. My phone buzzed in my pocket. 15% and no signal. Glancing around, I turn it off and put it back in my pocket. I let out a sigh and head back into the hospital.

“Hey, you have a phone I can use? I don’t have a signal and need to call a ride,” I say flatly to the guards at the front desk. They look me up and down, assessing me as if they didn’t just watch me walk out the same door 30 seconds ago, before gesturing across the lobby to a pay phone.

“Thanks, you, uh, got any change,” I ask as I pull out my wallet. “I don’t seem to have much…” One of the guards pulls a couple of quarters out of a tip jar sitting on the counter and offers it to me as I trail off. “Thank you,” I manage as I wonder who tips hospital security and for what possible purpose.

Walking across the lobby, I catch the scent of stale coffee coming from a small station. I make a note to grab some after I make arrangement for a ride. There’s an old phone book chained to the pay phone, which would’ve been helpful if I didn’t have my own phone with me. I quickly boot it up to get my girlfriend’s number.

The phone rings several times before being answered by voicemail. “Hey, babe. I just got discharged from a hospital. I’m at,” I glance around for something with the address. The phone book provides the answer I need. Look at that, helpful after all. “1 Hospital Way, Hospital, Michigan… wait. That can’t be right. Hold on.” I call over to the guards, “Hey! What’s the address for this place?”

The guards glance up from their desk, “It’s 1 Hospital Way, Hospital, Michigan. It’s on all the magazines, if you need to know how to spell it.” The guards shrug and go back to their reading.

“I guess I’m at 1 Hospital Way, Hospital, Michigan? Which I guess is a real place, with a real hospital? I’m okay, but don’t know where I am. I’ll call you in a bit. I love you,” I hang up the phone. My hands find their way to the necklace in my pocket, and it begins to grow heavy as I notice the textures I thought originally were smooth plastic turned out to be worked gold. The amulet grows warm beneath my fingers, drawing the heat from the depths of my hands.

I glance up at the information desk while playing with the necklace. The guards quickly avert their gaze, back to their reading. Or had they been reading all along? It was hard to tell. Either way, there was something off about them. What is with the tip jar? What is with the desolation and coldness here?

The phone rings, startling me and breaking the silence of the lobby. The guards don’t react. I pick up the phone, thinking it had to be my girlfriend. Who else could it be?

“Hey, babe. I take it you got my message,” I ask directly. If it isn’t her, I may as well start off the conversation strong.

“Yea, I got it. GPS says I’m 45 minutes away. So I’ll be there in about an hour. Is everything okay? Are you hurt?” The sound of her voice crackling over the payphone send a tingle down my spine. It always did, and the scratch of the wires made it sound… sexy. It gave her voice an otherworldly quality, like hearing the voice of a loved one come through the brass speaker of a victrola.

“Yea, I’m okay. I was stung by a bee, but I’m alright now. I managed to get to a hospital and now I just wanna get home. Can you come get me?”

“Sure thing, babe. Give me an hour, and I’ll be right there. I love you.” The line went dead as she hung up. One hour. Keep myself busy for an hour.

Sitting in the lobby reading old “Highlights” magazine, one hour stretches into 2 and my girlfriend is no longer picking up her phone. She isn’t calling me back. The guards are less than helpful. I can’t go far, because if she calls back it will be on the payphone. But there’s nothing here and nowhere to go.

The amulet thuds to the ground, having somehow fell out of my pocket. I bend to pick it up, almost falling over headfirst as the blood rushes to my head causing me to lose my balance. I quickly recorrect, snatching the amulet off the ground and placing it around my neck without thinking.

Immediately I find myself standing on a busy street, traffic swirling around me. I hear a horn bellow from behind me. Turning in surprise, I barely see the bus that hits me, and barely have time to feel the crunch of the wheels rolling over my arms as the bus rides me over and twists my body. I tumble along the cement, my flesh grating against the concrete and shredding against the rough texture of the firmament. There’s no way this is reality.

The necklace gets caught on a random bit of metal, twisting around my neck as my body moves beneath the bus. I am choking, the necklace straining firmly against the flesh of my neck and cutting off my ability to breathe. With great reluctance, the chain snaps.

I find myself back in the hospital, surrounded by doctors and nurses wheeling me into surgery. The necklace no longer wrapped around my neck, I find myself able to breathe. I think about the absurdity of caring about something as silly as breathing when I’m clearly dying. For a while there is only pain, and then there is the bliss of unconsciousness.

I awaken alone in a darkened hospital room. I appear to be fine, although attempting to move reveals the truth of the matter. I’ll be sore for a while as my body heals. My eyes shift around the room, attempting to focus on something, and finding that any attempts to hold my gaze result in bleary-eyed pain and a burning sensation. After a minute, my eyes settle on the nightstand beside the bed and focus on a golden amulet resting on the nightstand. It begins to glow with an eerie red pulse, giving the blue glass gemstone a sickly pallor. I try not to think about it too hard, as I close my eyes and drift off to sleep as a machine subtly beeps into my ear.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

Despite being the only sound I could hear, I never notice the moment the beeping stops.