The Hottest Day of Summer

July 21^st, the hottest day of the summer of 2012. The weatherman had predicted a high of 102 degrees Fahrenheit, and had recommended everyone stay indoors with the AC blasting away. Most people in our little suburban town would have taken his advice; they would have stayed inside drinking fancy iced teas and lounging on the couch trying not to melt.

Not us though. No, on that day we were on a mission. 

In the middle of our town is a small forest. Among the bramble and poison ivy there is a single trail that cuts through the brush, an asphalt path that can barely be called maintained; before it turns into a dirt trail. Right next to the trail is a little creek, that tends to dry in summer exempt for one spot that’s right at the end of a drainage pipe. The ground there is deep enough one can’t see that bottom of the creek bed, let alone anything else hiding down there. A little further up the trail is a rickety old bridge, only held together by a couple of rusted nails. If you leave the trail and followed the creek upstream for about 10 minutes, there will be a small hole in the ground, about the size of a baseball in diameter to the left of the creek. Surrounding this hole is the greenest moss in existence, and flowers the color of a blazing sunset.

No matter what time of year it is, winter, spring, summer, or fall; those flowers will always be in bloom. That hole, and those flowers. That was our destination.

Every summer since we were five years old, Jess, Mike, and I would meet up at the trail’s entrance, and we would hike to that spot.

It wasn’t a very long hike, nor a difficult one. It was generous to even call it a hike. It would take only ten minutes for the asphalt path to become dirt, and another five to reach the bridge that crossed the little creek bed. From there we follow the creek up to that small little hole, getting pebbles in our shoes and little scratches on our knees from the bramble.

As we walked along, we would each pick up a stone. It had to be a nice one too, with a little heft to it. Not a dinky little pebble, nor a rock too grand to carry. A nice, simple stone.

When we reached the hole, each one of us would surround the hole, and drop our stone into its depths. As our stones fell, we would each make a single wish for that summer.

Jess and Mike never told me what they would wish for, but I figured they would come true if they kept coming back to the hole with me. I know mine did.

However, this year was different. This year, Mike’s house caught fire.

Storms are normal in summer. Expected even. All that extra energy in the air from this absurd heat wave has to go somewhere. Mike’s family just got unlucky, or stupid lucky depending on who you asked.

              It was during one of these storms that a stray lighting bolt struck the old oak tree in Mike’s front yard. That plus the force of the winds knocked that burning oak right into the kitchen, setting the rest of the house ablaze.

              Mike’s family was lucky that their bedrooms were on the other side of the house, so they had time to evacuate themselves and the family cat.

              Not lucky enough though. By the time the fireman arrived sirens blaring, most of the house was already ash. Mike’s bike, his mom’s favorite photo album, his dad’s toolbox; it was all gone. Even the cat’s catnip toys that been destroyed.

              Mike ended up staying at Jess’s place while his parents worked out what to do next. While they were playing on Jess’s Wii, they had overheard their folk’s talking. Apparently Mike’s parents think they need to move all the way down to Florida to live with his grandparents, just until they can buy a new house.

              Mike can’t move to Florida! There’s snakes and gators and it’s over 20 hours away! We’d never see each other again.

Which leads us to now.

All three of us stood around the hole, sweat gliding down our faces. We Locked eyes with each other, repeating the wish over and over again in our heads. It taboo to say a wish out loud, but I had written up a wishing script a week in advance so we all knew what to wish for.

Once we nodded once, then we dropped our stones into the hole.

At first, nothing happened. Then it got quiet; the birds stopped singing; the bull frogs stopped croaking. Even the creak remained silent, as if even the very water knew not to disturb this moment.

Then the moss started to die. It shriveled and withered, falling away from the stone in dried clumps into the depths. The colors of the brilliant flowers that greeted us every trip slowly seeped out of their petals, their stalks growing weak. We watched as the very life surrounding our sacred place rotted away.

              Once the eternal beauty that inhabited this small part of the forest we called ours died, the heat began to rise.

              Sweat began to drip down my face with renewed vigor. The dead moss and flowers caught fire as we all stumbled back. Light began to flood out of the hole, burning brighter and brighter till, something launched itself from the abyss into the burning sky.

              To this day we still can’t fully describe it. It was a burning red, a blazing orange, a blinding yellow. It had fur, scales, and feathers and tangled up in it mixed matched skin. It had eyes that that never ended, and a tail that went on for miles.

              Just the glimpse we had of the creature was maddening. Then it flapped its wings once, and it was gone.

              According to the weather report the following day, the temperature of our town had dramatically increased by 20 degrees in a matter of minutes. With a new high of 122 degrees, such a drastic change in temperature in such a large area should be scientifically impossible.

              Wishing your friend’s house back would also be impossible. Yet as Mike, Jess and I walked out of those woods, sun burnt and dazed, to find Mike’s house standing like it had never been set of fire, we all fell to the ground cheering and crying for our success.

              Even the old oak tree was back, standing pound in the setting sun.

              As we laid their basking in our victory, I knew this wouldn’t last forever.

              Whatever magic was in that hole was gone; time will keep marching on. Things will change no matter how much we wish.

              But we ensured that we would at least have this summer together. That Mike would stay with us for just a little while longer. Isn’t that what everyone wants?

              Just a little more time?