summer, 96

The kids all ran around the yard, cupping their hands together, trying to capture little flashing bugs in old peanut butter jars that had been cleaned up and filled with sticks and leaves. Their hair hadn’t been combed since the morning, if even then, their bare feet dirty from the warm earth and dusty sidewalks.

Their parents all sat around with drinks in their hands, cards out on the table, women laughing with one eye on the kids, men yelling and cursing at their hands. Someone was back at the grill, tempting those who had claimed not to still be hungry with the smells of burning meat. A group of boys tossed a football around, waiting for their burgers to be done, swatting gnats away from their eyes.

The grass underneath me was cool as I watched, the sweat from the day already evaporated as the sun disappeared and the moon rose higher over the sky. I watched a bat fly in circles around the tops of the trees, swooping lower occasionally, maybe looking for the gnats. When the bat failed to keep my attention, I looked back over towards the kids, who were spread across the party, stealthily stalking their flashing prey.