1 Chapter 1

I blinked when the blinding sun flashed into my face as I stepped onto the baseball field. Red, white, and blue streamers dangled from the pitched tents, fluttering about when I passed beneath. A live band was playing, although I could not understand a single word they were singing. The only thing I could hear was the obnoxious thump, thump, thump of the drums. Surely they did not consider that trash music. Don’t get me wrong, I love about every genre of music there is. However, a small town band of drugged-out apes, attempting to play rock music, was painful to hear. I wondered if they actually believed they were good. If so, they were delusional. It sounded more like two cats fighting. I winced, trying to block out the dreadful screeching.

Children ran in all directions, scurrying about like little balls of energy. I stopped when one nearly ran me over. A table had been set up to my right, boasting ten place settings, each with watermelon slices. Apparently the watermelon eating contest was about to get under way. I hurried past before someone tried to volunteer me to join. A crowded hotdog stand was visible ahead. Hinkleville was barely a dot on Virginia’s map, so I was shocked to see the crowd of people waiting in line. The line stretched for at least sixty feet with several others clamoring about, attempting to push in

“Where the hell did all of these people come from?” I shook my head, realizing I probably looked crazy talking to myself. I’d never attended the Fourth of July celebration, until now. I wondered why I was even here. I suppose boredom can make you do crazy things. After living in this town all my life, I’d never seen the point in wasting a day at some small town hick festival. There’s a first time for everything.

When I say small town, I mean smalltown! It’s one of those towns where being gay is equivalent to having the black plague; at least, that’s the way I saw it. Everyone knows everyone else’s business. It was the kind of town where drug addicts peddle during the week and go to church on Sunday to repent for their sins. Once again, I asked myself why in the hell I was here. Call me crazy, but I had a feeling I should come this year. Yes, I know that sounds silly, but it’s true.

I shoved my hands into my back pockets, glancing towards the fire department display. Several people had placed folding chairs near the red block establishment. It looked like a gathering of Hens Anonymous. Throw in a few strutting roosters and you get the picture. I rolled my eyes when one of the guys jumped from his chair and started to dance around like he was at a hoedown. This town was seriously strange. I was certain some of the shirts the men wore had not been washed in at least a month, possibly longer. Between the tobacco stains that drooled from the corner of their mouths and the smeared handprints across the front, it was revolting. As for the women, they weren’t much better. Most of them appeared clueless as to the use of a bra. Their clingy shirts clung to their saggy breasts. I shuddered when a grey haired woman walked past in hot pants and a wet black T-shirt, no bra beneath. Something was wrong with this picture. Didn’t these people look in the mirror before they left home?

I glanced towards the hotdog stand, contemplating whether the wait in line was worth it. Then I caught a glimpse of the man fixing the hot dogs. I cringed. His dingy white shirt had turned to a pale brown. I could see smears of ketchup, mustard, dirt, and God only knows what else were plastered on the threadbare shirt. I gasped when he ran his finger up his nose and then touched one of the buns. Okay. There was no way I was going to buy anything to eat from this place. I could do without. I turned, walking off in the opposite direction.

I passed a bouncy castle that had been sat up for the children. The bright red, yellow, and blue plaything towered high above my head, jiggling back and forth from the numerous children that romped inside. I laughed when a chubby little boy tumbled out, literally bouncing from his rounded basketball belly. Yes, I know, it shouldn’t have been funny. But I was so bored and that was the most entertainment I’d seen yet. That in itself was pathetic, truly. What kind of celebration was this anyways; the celebration of small town cave dwellers? My ex always said I was too stuck up. I begged to differ. I was just more sophisticated than most in my town.