A fast smile

ENCHANTED SNOOKUMS

 

It's holiday time. Easter has come around again to our small, happy, religious town. We have approximately 20000 residents from April to the end of August and 12000 into the wintry days that take forever to go away. When I think about those numbers, I wonder why the hell I'm one of the residents who sticks out 365 days here, year after year. In sixty-five years I've never found the answer and have accepted my fate.

 

This spring starts out special. With Easter we will have the company of the BlingBling circus for ten days. The children who are aware of their fate if they don't get out of Maplewell before they are in their early twenties get busy. They rush to our supermarket to get as many cartons of large white eggs as they can afford. In one day the refrigerated cases are bare. Jimmy Schue, who owns our only five & dime store had to triple his order for egg dye.

 

Miss Slatko, the matron of The Lord's Baptist House, runs a tight ship. Seats are filled for all services. I've never been in there but I hear nice things about the  warm feelings, closeness of the whole parish. Her brother, Samson, has a special room behind the organ where he keeps his artist brushes and makes room for the dyed eggs that are not cracked. What might be a pretty pink egg might have a band of gold around its middle and tiny dots of blue, or a green egg may have orange wavy stripes. No two are exactly alike but all the smiles on the children's faces and their parents, give Samson an extra star in heaven.

 

On a Monday morning, less than a week before Easter, the calliope comes riding down main street. Clowns dance and prance around, throw confetti in the air. Amidst it all, the ground rumbles a little. There is a strong not too pleasant odor following the clowns. Children and adults applaud as two men with bullwhips lead a huge, really huge elephant down the main street. About 20 dwarf clowns dance, prance, do somersaults around the gargantuan elephant. Her trunk lifts and she sneezes blue bubbles out of it. The dwarfs call her Snookums, 'Go, Snookums, go!' they shout.

 

 Snookum's hard grey skin turns into a swirling, melting rainbow as the air inside of her escapes and Snookums flies away.