©Russell Kaye, All Rights Reserved, Click To See Bigger.
The other morning, very early, just before dawn on Memorial day, the lights flickered and there was a kind of crash or boom outside toward the front of the house. After I hushed the alarm system, Rufus and I decided to let Lucy sleep-in and that we'd celebrate our heroic veterans (and no school) by getting some breakfast at The Waffle House. When we went out front, there was a "lineman" from the county in a cherry picker, rising up from the street to the transformer above.
The morning light was peaceful and the air still cool.
"What made the lights flicker like that and what was that boom?" I yelled up to him in his bucket.
He didn't reply but instead pointed down to the sidewalk. A squirrel in the fetal position, very scorched and obviously dead, lay motionless at the base of the utility pole.
"Does that happen alot?" I asked.
"Yeah," he replied, "happens all the time, but I guess not enough because we sure have a ton of'm left running around up here."
Just then an ambulance came roaring down our block and it started to rain.