The morning of July third, nineteen seventy-two was absolutely magical, as was the day that followed it. I had found a soul mate, or, at the very least, a best friend for life. We had snuck in the theatre, gotten ice cream on a particularly oppressive afternoon, and sat together in the park, under his favorite willow tree, the branches circling us like a green blanket, in thoughtful silence, as we would listen to the birds sing, and simply watch life go by. I loved him, in his gentle, loyal being, and he loved me in my quiet self.

I had seen him outside of the “Roman Amphitheatre”, what the theatre for specialty plays was called. Fiddler on the Roof had come to town for that week only, and I had practically begged my parents for five dollars to see it. But when I saw him out there, I stuffed the money in the deep pockets of my long dress, and walked over, knowing I had to meet him. It was like I was drawn to him, in an unbreakable trance.

He didn’t have any money, and I didn’t have enough for two, so we snuck in together, ever so stealthily. I slinked along the brick wall leading to the side door where all the actors and actresses entered. I felt like a movie star! Everyone just assumed we belonged there, so they simply let us in and didn’t bother us. After seeing the hustle and bustle of the backstage, we went to our seats, the best seats in the whole theatre, right in the front, but not too close, where your eyes are nearly looking straight up.

We exited after the show was over, and I felt enlightened by the beautiful music that was played. I was singing it as we walked down the street, side by side. He was not like anyone else in the whole town, or like any of the boys that attended the private school I went to. They were all snobs, and, when I sang or hummed, told me to “shut my mouth before the teacher whipped us all for my stupid behavior”.

But not him; he listened in perfect silence as I sang every single song from that absolutely magnificent play. As we walked down the street, I spotted an ice cream cart, and walked up to the man selling it. I saw my absolute favorite ice cream; mint chocolate chip, and bought one for us to split. Normally, I don’t share ice cream with people who are virtually strangers, but it felt like I had known him my whole life, and felt it was appropriate.

We found a nice spot to sit under a willow tree, and slurped up the last drops of ice cream there. I let him have the cone, which was gone in seconds. I heard the birds chirping, and saw squirrels bounding across the green grass, and fish swimming in the clear blue water of the pond in the center of the park, and felt a sense of peace and relaxation. This is what I always felt when I was with him.



*****

The next evening, I ran to the Town Square, where the library, post office, and café were located. I found him waiting for me next to my favorite place in the Square: the library. I smiled and waved to him. He gave me somewhat of a smile in return. I hugged him and we started to walk down to the Green, where the yearly Fourth of July fireworks were always fired from. There was a big celebration beforehand, as well, with penny candy, cotton candy, and hotdogs, for fifty cents each.

I had a blanket under the crook of my arm, and laid it down on the ground. We both sat there, in awaiting silence, waiting for the first big boom. I had bought us a hot dog, and we were each taking small bites from either side, trying to savor every last bite.

And then it happened.

The first firework went off, sending a beautiful array of pink sparks flying in every direction, and illuminating the dark sky. Then a second appeared. This time, it was yellow, and made a strange but intriguing whizz noise. It was an amazing experience!

But the most amazing of all was the finale.

It was so beautiful, with the red, white, and blue spread of light across the night. It was so bright, and it was as if someone turned on a gargantuan light bulb, but only for a few seconds. Then the magic ended, and the sky returned to its normal darkness, only being lightened by the faint glow of the moon.

Mosquitoes were eating me alive, but I didn’t care. The only thing that concerned me was being with my best friend. I had finally decided on a name for him.

Frankie the dog.