The Scent of Lilacs by Ann H. Gabhart

Author:Ann H. Gabhart [Gabhart, Ann H.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781441204516
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

The next day dawned clear and hot. By the time the parade started forming in the high school parking lot at noon, heat was rising off the sidewalks and people were crowding in under the scarce midday shade of storefront awnings. They tried to wave back the heat with the “Service with Dignity” Hazelton Funeral Home fans Junior and Rita Hazelton were passing out for their father. Hazelton’s was the only funeral home in Hollyhill, but Gordon Hazelton didn’t want folks to think he took their dying and coming to him for their funerals for granted.

Nobody could remember Hollyhill ever having a Fourth of July parade before, and plenty of folks had come out to see what there was to see. The stores along Main Street all had “Sale” signs in the windows to entice people inside. Fans swished around the hot air in the older stores, while the newer ones cranked up their air conditioners to fight against the swinging doors as customers streamed in and out more in search of cool air than bargains.

The Banner offices didn’t have air-conditioning, but fans were roaring. Aunt Love and Tabitha had come to watch the parade from the big front window. Zella was out at the high school, ready with extra tissue paper if a hole was spotted in the First Baptist float. Jocie loaded her camera, stuck an extra roll of film in her pocket, and went out hunting some paper-selling shots. Her father told her to zero in on kids watching the parade or kids on the floats. He would take pictures of the floats and the politicians.

Wes went up the street to get Aunt Love and Tabitha some lemonade from the Girl Scouts’ stand by the post office. The high school pep club and the Hollyhill Church of God had bake sales going in front of the banks. The icing on the cupcakes was melting in the heat, but nobody seemed to care as they licked their fingers and listened for the high school band to get the parade started.

Jocie snapped a couple of shots of kids sitting on the edge of the sidewalk peering down toward the high school. Then she took a picture of little Jamie Ray Jones up on his daddy’s shoulders. She felt lucky when she caught sight of Myron Haskins sitting on the bench in front of the courthouse, both hands resting on his cane propped out in front of him like a podium. She took three pictures from different angles and even took the chance of asking Mr. Haskins what he thought about the parade. The band was still just tooting and drumming haphazardly, which surely meant the parade hadn’t formed ranks.

He frowned at her. “It’s a fine thing if it’ll get you young folks to see that freedom’s worth fighting for, to know that it has been fought for, that men died so we can march down this street.”

“Yes, sir,” Jocie said and began edging away.

“A man should be proud to serve his country, not try to get out of being drafted the way boys do nowadays.

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