D. W. Hartford Labor Day Post 2

Here is the second entry from D. W. Hartford about Labor Day. Congratulations on winning 40% off a class!

Labor Day:  Early or Not

D.W. Hartford

For some on the Gulf Coast, Labor Day will start as early as Sunday night. 

     Here, the circus began with tinkling chatter and a radio’s reedy trebles; then clanging voices and their stereo’s distant thumping.  Irregular counterpointing soon joined in:  defiant laughter, sing-songy jeers, phones ringing, alarmingly audible scrapes from yet more cars pulling up to, over, and back down the curbs; and more. 
     Now, an oddly distinct triplet of crumplings, whistles, and thwacks has forced its way to the edge of the cacophony. 
     That gets me out of my chair.
     After a deep breath, I open the door. 
     One cautious step then another lands me inside their multi-leveled carnival.  They’re grilling on the far side of the courtyard.  Cigarette smoke hovers about over here.  I nod to the nearest smoker.  (He pretends not to see.)  I flinch from a metallic crunch above me; next comes light whistling, and -- now I understand -- a spent beer-can arches missile-like through the yellow security lighting and settles upon the dirt of the lot across the narrow, car-laden drive. 
    Thwack!
    The next one lands directly outside my window.
    Thwack!
    Apparently, an earlier discard flew off-course:  it’s caught high up in the Live Oak leaning apartment-ward from the now aluminum-dotted lot.
    “I won’t be able to get to that one,” I muse against newly insistent thumpings from their stereo, “but as for the others….”
     Turning back towards the door, I picture the start to my Labor Day -- with a trash bag in hand. 
     “And maybe some of them will help out?”
      Opening the door, I smile at my positive thinking (it’s fitting for the holiday).
      Closing the door behind me, I frown (really believing it would be even more fitting).
      Double-locking the door now:  “Well, we’ll find out -- early or not.”


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Mahala