JULY 4th

I had mixed feelings about this. Of course my parents' voices were in the back of my mind, "Don't do anything stupid tonight, we'll have the phone by the bed, so don't hesitate to call us if anything happens," but it wasn't just that. It was my gut feeling. I didn't trust myself in this situation. It was the summer, the Fourth of July, of course we had to do something crazy. We had a big night planned, and we managed to obtain an abundance of fireworks. We had small ones and big ones, loud ones and even louder ones. My friends were ready to wreak havoc, but I, well... I wasn't sure.

"What's up, Brohan?" It was Connor.

"Oh not much, man. Just at home."

"Yeah? I'm pickin' up Jimbo, you want a swoop? We're goin' over to this cutty Asian dude's house that Jimbo knows. He's gotta hook on hella fireworks. Hella Mortars, Roman Candles, Bottle Rockets, Missiles, Mines, Shells, Tubes, Fire Crackers, you name it. We've got like 300 bucks and he's givin' it to us for like less than half off." Damn. I thought to myself. Do we really need all of that? I guess that's cool, if we get like one of each. "We're gettin' like five of each. It's gonna be so dope!" he exclaimed. Shiiet! Alright, I guess...

"Yeah I want a swoop," I said.

"Fasho man, I'll be there in ten."

We walked through a chipped, grey garage door at the end of the street. There were no cars in here. I guess the garage door was the door people walked through to get to this guy’s house. Instead of a house door, he had a garage door. Ha! But there was no house when we reached the other side. He led us down a path as we passed dehydrated flowers and old shrubs. It was odd. I didn’t like it.

“So how does Jimbo know this guy, exactly?” I asked Connor.

“He went to middle school with him, they’re both Asian,” he replied, as if all Asians were the same, and gathered every Sunday to introduce the new Asian in the community.

“And he lives on his own?” I asked, bewildered.

“Yeah. I guess so.”

We kept walking until we reached a small, grey shack, reminiscent of the garage door. How did Escobar convince his mom to drop us off here? I couldn’t believe she just let us off without any problems. ‘Okay kids, whatever you do...don’t get kidnapped!’

As we ducked our heads below the door frame, we stepped into a cramped, musty frenzy of fireworks. Some packaged, others sprawled onto the floor. Reds, blues, yellows, purples, neon reds, greens, oranges, neon blues, even blacks. Who wants to see a black firework? It was fascinating. This guy could probably live off of an under-the-table fireworks business if he had to.

“So, what do you need, man?” The guy asked us. Andy, I think was his name. He talked with an Asian accent, the typical one people make fun of. I wanted to laugh, but I dared not to. He was muscular, and he lived in a garage.

Jimbo piped up, “Damn, hella fireworks. We’ve got a list. Hold on one sec.” He reached over to Connor. Escobar and Lars were leaning over his shoulder.

Connor gave the list to Andy, “Here, I circled all the ones I think we should get no matter what. The uncircled ones are second priority, in case we don’t have enough money.”

“Okay man, let me do the math real quick, I tell you the price.”

We started to look around. Mortars, Roman Candles, Bottle Rockets, Missiles, Mines, Tubes, Shells, all just like Connor had said. I swear, if this shack ever caught on fire, I would run home and snuggle up to some Journey, “When the Lights Go Down,” and a cup of hot chocolate.

“So, since I give you discount, all these you have circle come to one hunded eighty dolla.”

Damn. Major discount.

“Sweet, thanks Andy. We‘ll take it.” Jimbo handed him two fifties, three twenties, one ten and two fives.

“Yeah man, no problem. You all have good time. I know I would. Haha.”

I laughed, even though it wasn’t funny. I wanted to protect my nature. It was important this guy liked me.

“It was cool meetin’ you,” I said.

“Yeah thanks again,” my friends chimed in.

After purchasing the fireworks, I knew my friends would be super stoked. They were really into pyrotechnics, and being able to light them on their own gave them the thrill of a lifetime. I, on the other hand, was scared shitless. I didn’t really want to be part of the whole lighting-the-fuse-running-behind-a-rock-to-hide-while-waiting-for-the sucker-to-blow process. I just wanted to hide. Period.

When we finally got up to the Cal track at Clark Kerr, we waited for the sky to darken as people began walking up to view the legal fireworks show across the bay. Anxiously waiting, we began to drink. We opened a fifth of some fruity tasting liquor. As it got darker, we started to set up shop for our personal fireworks extravaganza. We began unloading all of our illegal accoutrements. There were bottle rockets and such sticking out of the tops of our unzipped backpacks. It was kind of lucky we even got to our destination without someone asking what the hell we were planning on doing all of those explosives.

The first time the cops came, I had no idea. Connor said he would be right back to go deal with something. I guess a cop asked us very nicely if we were lighting fireworks, and if we were, could we stop. ‘Sure officer, we’ll stop immediately...SIKE!’

As evening turned to night, we grew more and more confident that no more police would come searching for us. The aerial display of buffoonery (what we thought was a legitimate fireworks performance) was peaking, and at this point, we were just drunken fools running around laughing and screaming. Through my inebriation, however, I felt wrong. The cupid of my emotions had poked its head out from under the devil letting me know it was still there. I decided I would leave, just walk away. It wasn’t long before I got a phone call telling me I was a pussy and should get my ass back over there. So I walked back, portraying the loyalty I had always shown my friends.

It turned out the cops weren’t done. A searchlight from across the track began circling around, heading for our direction.

“Dude, fuck! Look! We needa hide!” screamed Efren, pointing at the distant light. Everyone hushed and glanced over to where he was pointing.

“Shit, that’s definitely Five-Oh. C’mon, we’ve gotta run into those bushes,” ordered Lars. “There’s a path near the shrubs. We’ll just hide in there until the police roll by.” There was no time for debate. We all jumped up like gazelle and ran to cover.

Minutes seemed like hours. My stomach felt like it had taken the blow of a sword courtesy of Hua Mulan. When the coast was finally clear, we gathered ourselves and walked back cautiously to our spot.

“Damn, that was close,” I said aloud.

“Yeah, but we still have a bunch of fireworks,” replied on of my friends.

“Yall want to light more!?” I was astonished.

“Might as well.”

We resumed our positions as I thought to myself. Wow...after all that? I ’m out of this one. I’m not taking responsibility for anything now. I sat on the bleachers covering my face. More and more fireworks. The night went on for about two more hours until a light flashed my face.

My heart sank. I immediately knew who it was by the intensity in the brightness of the flashlight. This was no ordinary flashlight. It was flashlight de la policia.

“Hey boys! Looks like a party, yeah?” asked one of the women cops in a sarcastic, police officer tone. She was standing with one hand on her hip and the

other shining the bright light. I reasoned to myself. We’ve been nabbed, shit! But wait--these are women cops...maybe I should make a run for it...

“Hold it right there! All of you, on the bleachers!” shouted the UCPD officer before I could even think about which direction I wanted to run. So this is it...our party has finally come to an end... I was somewhat relieved.

I stumbled onto the bleachers as the officers took down all of our names, addresses and phone numbers. We sat with out heads down for over an hour while the policewomen searched through just about everything we had put our hands on. It was 2 am, but I was nowhere near tired. They called in for more officers. It was a big night for the UCPD squad, they finally got to experience what it was like to be in law enforcement. Even the bomb squad decided to show up, which probably wasn’t the best news for us. Two men with rubber gloves examined all of our illuminations and said our tennis balls filled with gun powder were technically considered bombs in California. When we arrived at the station, they informed us that those tennis balls will probably lead us to be charged with a felony, along with the obvious accounts of alcohol and firework possession. Thank god they didn’t find the weed.

The next morning I told my parents everything that had happened; everything I could remember. They told me I should always trust myself and my gut instinct. I told them that that’s corny, but probably true. They agreed. They told me peer pressure is a hard thing to avoid and that I had experienced it in the worst way possible. They figured that since I was a minor, and had no previous record, everything would be discarded. That gave me a little relief for the next five months of my life up until I finally received a letter saying that all of the penal codes I had violated on July 4^th, 2005 were dropped and that there would be no further investigation. I was excited to be a clean citizen again and I had learned my lesson. I became a confident individual who makes his own decisions without peer persuasion.