
June Bugs in July
“You hated fireworks.”
Jesse sat in the driver’s seat beside his mother. The fiery spectacle could be seen off in the distance, just above a series of houses in the suburban neighborhood just across the street. Inside the car, parked on the side of the road, they sat in silence amid the roar of the light outdoors. The thump of the fireworks reverberated through the car windows.
“You would always cry, they’d go off and you’d scream and cry, we always had to take you back inside.”
Jesse didn’t much care for fireworks, but his mother had convinced him to pull over to see them on their way home from a family gathering.
“Happy now? You got your fireworks?” he said, poking fun at her.
“Yes, how can you have fourth of July without fireworks?”
Jesse turned his head and looked out the window to his left, a large SUV pulled in on the opposite side of the street and came to a stop. A mother and her two little girls sprang out of the opened doors. They walked to the back of the car and popped open the hatchback. The young mother plucked each girl from off the ground and sat them on opposite sides of the trunk before seating herself snugly between them.
“I still don’t think I like them much.”
“Why not? You’re so boring,” his mother joked.
“I dunno, I guess when you’ve seen them once you’ve seen them all, don’t you think?”
“But they’re so pretty. It’s not like we get to see them all year long. They’re like a little flash of lightning. We enjoy them while they’re up there, then in a second, they’re gone.”
The fireworks display had reached its crescendo, the moment every observer knew was coming, and all anticipated eagerly. The fire in the sky set off in a flurry of color and sound. Each resounding BOOM landing just a moment behind the visual flourish.
Jesse remained quiet and viewed the end of the spectacle with his mother.
His mother’s eyes stared straight ahead, her face cast in the brilliant cacophony of colors. “They’re so nice. Like magic,” she said and the car moved steadily out of the suburbs.
On the drive back home, his mother looked out the window, unusually silent.
“What’s bothering you?”
Surprised by his voice, his mother faced him and gave him a smile, “Oh nothing, I’m ok.” She reached out and patted him on the shoulder. “Just the usual, received a few more calls about the medical bills. It’s…you know. Goes on and on.”
“It sure does,” Jesse said.
Pulling into the park they called home, Jesse felt the familiar pang of frustration as they passed the rows of trailers.
When he opened the door to their home the musky warm air from within washed over them; the old swamp cooler was not fairing well against the humid heat of the summer.
He followed his mother into the kitchen and tried to avoid looking at the pile of letters on the dinner table, illuminated by the soft orange glow of the light that hung ominously from the ceiling. His mother had been receiving countless letters from debt collectors; painstakingly opening each one, as if expecting some miracle to leap out at her from within, only to find herself dying a little more with each new invocation that arrived in the mail.
A photograph of his father, Sam, looked at them from a dim corner of the living room. His gaze pierced right through Jesse, he could almost feel it.
The feeling was mutual. How could he go the way he did? So suddenly, without warning? Leaving everyone to wallow in his wake.
The only things he left behind were obligation matched by their inability to account for it, and emptiness, with their inability to fill the void.
They missed him.
Jesse pushed the thought out of his mind; he felt guilty when he wandered down these convenient avenues of blame and desperation. His phone buzzed, pulling it out of his pocket, he read the text; it was time for him to head out.
“Who’s that?” his mother asked, her speech garbled by the assortment of medication she had just placed in her mouth. She took a swig of water and cleared her throat.
“Oh, just my friends, they’re inviting me out tonight,” he said, avoiding direct eye contact with her.
“Well, be careful. Lots of cops out there tonight, I heard it on the news.”
“Yeah sure, no problem. Love you, see you later.”
“Love you too, be safe,” his mother said, and Jesse left.
“Look man, this is part of the job alright? Just take the piece, chances are you won’t even use the fucking thing. So take it.”
Jesse sat in the back seat of a rusted old sedan, rolling a small black pistol around in his palm. “I thought we wouldn’t be hurting anyone. I’ve only shot a gun a few times before.”
“You’re not gonna bitch out on us now are you? Your homeboy said you were reliable.” A man he only knew as Robert said in the passenger seat in front of him, pitching back in his seat to get a better look at Jesse.
The driver, a much friendlier man named Sergio, looked at him through the rear view mirror, “He’ll be alright, he’s just popping his cherry.” Sergio adjusted the mirror, “Don’t worry, yeah? The gun’s just for show. When we get to work Rob and I will handle the dirty work, cool?”
“Cool,” Jesse said, the car started up and they began moving.
It was the dead of night while the car moved along a worn road on the outskirts of town, they were heading towards a bank, more specifically, an ATM. They didn’t give Jesse many details, aside from the fact that they needed him to avoid asking too many questions and do what they asked of him. So Jesse remained quiet and did what he was told.
The car slowed, turned into a dark side street and rolled to stop, Sergio cut the engine. “Alright, this is the spot. This guy should be coming around soon. When he does, you know the drill right?”
“Yeah I got it. Keep a lookout at the corner, yell if I see anything,” Jesse said and felt the heft of the gun in his hand become heavier.
The trio remained quiet and kept their eyes peeled, till they saw a white van pull in from a cross street and head towards the lonely bank along the main street behind them. Sure enough, it slowed down and parked at the corner.
“Here we go, don’t fuck this up,” Robert said and they stepped out of the sedan.
Jesse was told to lay low, stay quiet and post up at the intersection. They were coming up on the van from behind, like ducklings they crossed the street, backs hunched over, guns held low to the ground, one after the other.
As Sergio and Robert approached the van, Jesse stopped at the corner where he had the best vantage point for any oncoming traffic. Sergio and Robert sided up alongside the van, one on each side. Jesse could hear Robert yelling at the occupant of the van to get out from the driver’s side.
Jesse’s head darted around, he could feel his head cool as his sweat was soaked up by the ski mask he was wearing. He heard the door creak open and the crunch of the driver’s feet as they landed on the gravel below.
Sergio had moved over to the lone ATM installed into the wall of the building and motioned for Rob to escort their hostage, tools in tote, towards the machine.
The shuffle of their feet was punctuated by the stillness of the night in this unassuming street corner at the edge of town.
Rob moved him along, cautiously, till they reached Sergio and the technician began hastily fumbling through his bag. In a few minutes the technician had the ATM open and Jesse heard Rob yell excitedly in the dead of night. “Load that shit up man, hurry the fuck up,” Rob continued, pointing the gun at the man kneeling at his feet.
Jesse made another quick scan of the cross streets, no cars, no activity. Jesse noticed a shop light humming softly on the side of the building behind him. The ground was littered with the clumsy buzzing of June bugs. Jesse recalled reading about them in high school, they were beetles, related to the scarabs once worshipped by the Egyptians. Something about the way they rolled shit reminded them of the way their god moved the sun across the sky. Jesse felt they were a far cry from their ancestors, watching them stumble around in the night, seemingly lost and without purpose, chasing the bright lights until it killed them.
“June bugs in July,” he whispered to himself.
Then he heard a creak from the white van and saw another man, wearing the same uniform as the technician currently imprisoned by Sergio and Rob, quickly step down from an opened door at the back of the van.
The newcomer peeked from behind the van at the men at the ATM, ignorant of Jesse’s presence at the corner. Jesse saw the man reach into his van and pull out a small handgun which he promptly lifted beside his head. He looked nervous.
Jesse yelled, “Sergio! There’s another one behind the van!” The man turned to face the sound of Jesse’s voice and quickly fired off two shots from his pistol in Jesse’s direction. The bullets kicked up plumes of cement dust as they struck the ground only a few feet away from Jesse. Jesse ducked behind the corner of the building and lowered himself to the ground.
He heard Robert start yelling and before Jesse could turn and look around the corner he heard several more gunshots ring out, then silence. Jesse found himself curled into a ball, his hands covering his head, perfectly still. The gun he had been given was laying on the sidewalk beside him, useless. He crawled around the corner and looked out at the van. He saw a body on the street. Shifting his gaze towards the ATM, two more bodies sprawled on the ground.
Jesse crawled around the corner before rising to his feet and scampering over to the man behind the van. “Hello? Are you ok?” Jesse approached and saw the man’s uniform soaked in deep crimson, no sign of life. He tried moving the man, it made no difference, the man was dead. Then he heard a sound come from near the ATM and sprang up to investigate. It was the technician.
Jesse jogged over towards the two bodies near the bank and towards the technician who was making an awful, painful sound.
Jesse dropped to the ground and lifted his ski mask. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, I don’t know what to do.” The man was gripping his chest, Jesse noticed at least two blood-soaked spots on his clothing, there was so much blood, and he was choking on the blood pouring out of his mouth.
The man’s eyes stared up at him like a frightened animal, pleading for some kind of salvation, anything to stem the fear. Jesse heard the wail of sirens in the distance. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t shoot, it wasn’t me. Someone’s coming, just hold on okay? Just hold on.” The man reached up and grabbed Jesse’s arm, desperately squeezing his bicep.
In moments the hand that clutched Jesse’s arm released its grip and fell to the ground. Jesse reached for it. Holding his hand, the technician squeezed tightly. Jesse didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing and tried his best to wipe away the blood billowing from the technician’s mouth. The sirens continued to wail, closer now. The man’s grip slacked and eventually gave way.
When the police arrived, they found Jesse still seated beside the technician. Jesse soon found himself sitting in the back seat of a police cruiser. Looking out at the scene, just above the top of the bank, he saw a small white light streak into the sky. Suddenly the light disappeared, and in a flash it expanded outward in a brilliant circle of color. Red, white, and blue.
During the legal proceedings, Jesse learned that Robert had been killed that night, and was the accomplice he had seen laying on the ground. Jesse had tried accounting for Sergio’s participation, but with little to no information about the man, he was never apprehended. Jesse assumed Sergio had made a quick getaway as soon as the firefight had ensued; having never fired a shot, he probably ran off into the darkness of the desert, off towards his salvation with their prize in tow.
Jesse was the only guilty party found at the scene of the crime. The trial was short and his punishment, just. The months that ensued found Jesse shuttled from county jail, to a temporary stint at a state prison, then off to another, where he would remain for the duration of his internment.
His mother would visit him as often as she could, they’d often discuss ways of finding better representation for him; some way to get Jesse out sooner than later. After all, he never fired a shot. Nevertheless, Jesse would tell her she couldn’t afford the legal fees and that his sentence was just. His mother knew he was right, but she fought for his freedom anyway, as a mother would.
Before Jesse realized it, time had become a stranger as the doldrums of prison life became him. Until one otherwise typical day wherein he received a letter from an unknown source. It read:
Jesse,
I’m sorry to hear about the trouble you have found yourself in, it is unfortunate that we have lost touch these past few years, but I would like you to know that you have been in my prayers.
I’m sorry I was not there when things took a turn for the worse. But don’t lose sight of the future, you’re still young. And rest-assured that your mother will be looked after.
All the best,
-S
Jesse sat on his cot and re-read the letter. “Es….Es….the hell is Es?” He folded up the paper and placed it on the small desk in his prison cell.
His cellmate had been watching him read the letter. “Mind if I read it?”
“Go ahead,” Jesse said and motioned for him to grab it.
“Seems nice, some family?” his cellmate asked after reading the letter.
“I have no clue, maybe a friend of my mom’s or something,” Jesse shrugged and laid himself down on his bed.
A few weeks later, Jesse was roused from sleep by the sound of detonations. Groggy, he looked up at the wall in his cell which was lit sporadically by various colors. The dull sound of the explosions could be heard from the window in his cell. He got up and peered outside at the brilliant lights that were now casting a multicolored spectacle in the night sky.
His cellmate awoke and sat up in his bed. Noticing the lights, he joined Jesse at the window, cramming himself beside him to get a better view.
“I loved popping fireworks on the fourth. They’re great aren’t they?” his cellmate said.
Jesse rested against the wall to his side and let his weight shift into it. A formation of new, little streaks of light fired off into the sky from some hidden location on the ground below and Jesse’s eyes followed their searing paths. “They’re pretty,” Jesse said.
Brilliant lights, followed by thunderous sound.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
“Like magic,” he said.
