John Laud had one glass eye. The little round, shabby man was the mayor of Charlo, Montana. The population sign on the way into town said there were 822 people in Charlo, but they must have been counting the farmers for miles around.
At the Charlo Cafe's worn white formica counter, John Laud rolled a four, Errnie Kraft rolled a two, Waylon Johnson rolled a four, Dan Stipe rolled a three, and Delyle rolled a six.
"Why do I always have to pay for coffee!" said Delyle taking off his greasy cap and slapping it against the counter.
"Cause you got all the luck." said Waylon.
"I can't afford to drink coffee with you guys. I swear your using loaded dice." He tapped the die on the counter and rolled again and frowned when it landed on a four.
"You've gotta job." Said Ernie. He slurped his coffee and smoked a cigarette.
"Yah but, Jacobson doesn't pay noth'n." said Delyle. "Can I bum one?" Ernie slid the pack down the counter.
Lucy brought the coffee pot and refilled everyone's mugs.
"He should be able to, rich old man with all those classic cars and antique tractors." said John Laud. "You need to get him to lend his Massey Ferguson and low-boy to the Lions Club for their float."
"Oh don't start with the parade stuff." said Dan Stipe.
"Why not. The parade is what makes Charlo what it is. You just need to get the lead out and do your part. The kids count on you for the truck and trailer for the 4-H float." said John Laud.
"I've really got more important things to do than to spend the week before the Fourth bringing farm equipment into town for kids to put balloons on. It's stupid." Dan Stipe said.
****
My Aunt Missy sewed a little white clown costume for me. I was four years old. It was a hot Fourth of July and my mom pinned a number on my back. We walked through the crowd to find my place in the line of weird people on Main Street.
The Shriners rode in circles in little red cars. I stared at the red chicken buckets on their heads. I'd never seen grown men act so much like children.
There was a mime on a unicycle. There were rhinestone cowboys and cowgirls riding horses. There were dozens of trucks and tractors pulling flatbed trailers that were decorated. There was a marching band. There were people throwing candy out of the windows of classic cars that honked their horns and had girls sitting on the hoods.
Walking in front of me was the scariest thing, Big Foot. I'm not ashamed to tell you that I was terrified, but I was trying to be brave.
"He won't hurt you. Just walk behind him. You'll be fine." Mom said. "I'll be right here on the side, in the crowd."
As we approached the judges table, the parade contestants slowed and circled. Big Foot turned around and walked toward me. I screamed and ran away from him. People watching the parade laughed. Soon my mom caught up with me, and held me.
"He chased me. He'll eat me."
"He's just a man in a costume. It's all right." she said.
"No he's not. Men aren't that tall."
"He is wearing stilts."
"What are stilts?"
"They are things people wear to make themselves taller. This man uses them at work, so he's tall enough to build high walls. I feel sorry for him, because his costume must be very hot."
"I'm hot." I said.
"He must be very hot." she said. We walked and held hands.
**** Mary Laud, John's little round wife in a gingham dress, weeble-woobled across to lawn to where we lived, and gave me a fifteen dollar check for winning first place in the children's category of the parade. She handed my mom several pictures of a terrified clown running from Big Foot.
Since John Laud died, the parade has diminished. He's the one who pestered all the farmers and construction workers into participating.
At the Charlo Cafe's worn white formica counter, John Laud rolled a four, Errnie Kraft rolled a two, Waylon Johnson rolled a four, Dan Stipe rolled a three, and Delyle rolled a six.
"Why do I always have to pay for coffee!" said Delyle taking off his greasy cap and slapping it against the counter.
"Cause you got all the luck." said Waylon.
"I can't afford to drink coffee with you guys. I swear your using loaded dice." He tapped the die on the counter and rolled again and frowned when it landed on a four.
"You've gotta job." Said Ernie. He slurped his coffee and smoked a cigarette.
"Yah but, Jacobson doesn't pay noth'n." said Delyle. "Can I bum one?" Ernie slid the pack down the counter.
Lucy brought the coffee pot and refilled everyone's mugs.
"He should be able to, rich old man with all those classic cars and antique tractors." said John Laud. "You need to get him to lend his Massey Ferguson and low-boy to the Lions Club for their float."
"Oh don't start with the parade stuff." said Dan Stipe.
"Why not. The parade is what makes Charlo what it is. You just need to get the lead out and do your part. The kids count on you for the truck and trailer for the 4-H float." said John Laud.
"I've really got more important things to do than to spend the week before the Fourth bringing farm equipment into town for kids to put balloons on. It's stupid." Dan Stipe said.
My Aunt Missy sewed a little white clown costume for me. I was four years old. It was a hot Fourth of July and my mom pinned a number on my back. We walked through the crowd to find my place in the line of weird people on Main Street.
The Shriners rode in circles in little red cars. I stared at the red chicken buckets on their heads. I'd never seen grown men act so much like children.
There was a mime on a unicycle. There were rhinestone cowboys and cowgirls riding horses. There were dozens of trucks and tractors pulling flatbed trailers that were decorated. There was a marching band. There were people throwing candy out of the windows of classic cars that honked their horns and had girls sitting on the hoods.
Walking in front of me was the scariest thing, Big Foot. I'm not ashamed to tell you that I was terrified, but I was trying to be brave.
"He won't hurt you. Just walk behind him. You'll be fine." Mom said. "I'll be right here on the side, in the crowd."
As we approached the judges table, the parade contestants slowed and circled. Big Foot turned around and walked toward me. I screamed and ran away from him. People watching the parade laughed. Soon my mom caught up with me, and held me.
"He chased me. He'll eat me."
"He's just a man in a costume. It's all right." she said.
"No he's not. Men aren't that tall."
"He is wearing stilts."
"What are stilts?"
"They are things people wear to make themselves taller. This man uses them at work, so he's tall enough to build high walls. I feel sorry for him, because his costume must be very hot."
"I'm hot." I said.
"He must be very hot." she said. We walked and held hands.
Since John Laud died, the parade has diminished. He's the one who pestered all the farmers and construction workers into participating.
