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Chapter Nine: Fireworks
"Now these here are cherry bombs, boy…They won't hurt you none…matter of fact why don'tcha hold this one while I light it?" Merle.
"MERLE!" That was Dad.
"What?! Oh, hell, he knows I'm just playin'…These ain't nothin' to mess with, baby brotha…They got a short fuse and pack a mean punch…"
Merle lowered his voice: "Kind of like somebody else in the family…but we won't mention any names."
Merle puts an M-80 in my hand. I look at it – awestruck that such a tiny firecracker has the potential to blow your fingers off. I look back up at Merle…He grins at me…He looks young…He has hair…He looks about seventeen or eighteen, right around the time he ran off to the Army…I see myself…I'm just a boy…maybe nine or ten…I see Dad nearby…He looks old…Older than I remember him looking…
Merle takes the firecracker, lights it, and tosses it…It explodes before it even touches the ground…the bang echoes in my ears.
"Did ya see that?!" Merle asks me. "Woo! Happy birthday, America! Ain't nothin' like being American than blowin' some shit up….Am I right, Daryl?"
I nod. Merle comes up to me, put his hand on my shoulder and starts shaking me.
"Daryl?" He asks over and over. "Daryl? Daryl? Daryl?"
…
"Daryl?"
Daryl slowly awoke from his dream and when he came to and realized where he was – on guard tower duty – he immediately pulled in his outstretched legs and his hand instinctively went to the Remington rifle lying across his lap and aimed it at the figure standing beside him. He blinked with, at first, confusion and then panic when he saw Beth standing there– her green eyes bulging.
"Jesus Christ, Beth!" Daryl exclaimed, as he lowered the rifle. "What's wrong?"
His mind was racing with the worst possible thoughts: The Governor has returned…a fence has given out…a walker infiltration… and he would be at fault because he had foolishly fallen asleep.
"Nothing's wrong," Beth breathed. "I just wanted to talk to you."
Daryl stared at her for a moment, wrinkled his brow and narrowed his eyes.
"This ain't a social hour, Beth," He told her, slightly annoyed. "Don't you ever do that again. I was about ready to shoot you. What do ya want?"
Beth felt her cheeks flush and wondered if Daryl could see it despite it being a muggy July night. Night at the prison reminded Beth of night at the farm: pitch black save for a few scattered stars and deafening chirping from the cicadas.
"Well?" Daryl persisted.
"Never mind," Beth muttered and turned to leave.
"Hey," Daryl stopped her. "You're already here…Just spit it out."
"It's nothing, Daryl," Beth said. "It's just…well, we've haven't talked for about…I don't know…a couple of weeks. Since we went on that run together. I miss talking to you, that's all."
Daryl shifted nervously in his chair. He sat the rifle down upright beside him, reached in his shirt pocket, fished out his lighter and smokes. As he lit the cigarette and took a long, slow drag he gazed at Beth, carefully contemplating how he was going to handle this conversation. He knew damn well what she had really come to talk to him about: that kiss.
"I've been busy," It was all he could come up with knowing she wasn't about to just accept that answer and walk away.
"I know," Beth said. "But…"
"I don't have time to chit-chat with you every day, Beth. I'm sorry. Everybody's got jobs to do…"
"I know, but…" Beth tried again.
"We can try going on another run again sometime. Gotta get you more trained, though…"
"Daryl, that's not what this is about…it's…"
"Gotta work on what to do if one of them jokers is right on ya…just gotta stab 'em in the head…bam! Just take 'em out…"
"Daryl?" Beth insisted. Her eyes pleaded with him to stop interrupting. He took a final drag on the smoke and flicked the butt, his way of telling her it was her turn to talk.
Beth knelt down beside Daryl's chair and when he offered her the seat she shook her head.
"No, I'm fine." She said. "Listen...I know you've been busy. I've been busy too. But it seems like even when we're not busy – you're avoiding me. At dinner...during down time...you don't come and visit me and Judith anymore. Are you still mad at me?"
Daryl bit his bottom lip and ran a hand through his hair.
"No," He answered. "I ain't mad at ya, Beth. You'd know it if I was."
He didn't know how to tell her that it was himself he was still angry with: almost getting her killed, yelling at her on the side of the road, making an ass out of himself, then getting all emotional and kissing her. It hadn't been a deep, hot, tonsil-hockey kind of kiss but Daryl knew women interpreted things differently from men: as far as he knew they were probably already married with three kids in Beth's mind. She hadn't mentioned it so far and he wasn't going to bring it up.
Instead Daryl said: "It's late, Beth. Why don't you go back to your cell and we can talk some more later."
He saw the skepticism in her face and added: "I promise. Go on now."
Beth opened her mouth as if to say something but then changed her mind, nodded, turned and left.
….
The calendar on Beth's table read: July 4th.
"Is it really the 4th?" Daryl asked Beth, surprised.
He glanced over at her, sitting on the cot rocking Judith and she barely lifted her shoulders.
"Your guess is about as good as mine," Beth said. "I just guesstimate, remember?"
Daryl grunted an "Oh, yeah," and he toyed with the blocks as he chuckled softly.
"What's so funny?" Beth said.
Daryl shook his head, grinning. "Before you woke me up yesterday in the tower I was dreaming about the Fourth of July."
"Really?"
"Yeah, really," Daryl continued. "I was dreaming I was a little kid again…Merle was there…he looked so young…he was setting off cherry bombs…havin' a good ole time."
"Merle kind of intimidated me at first," Beth admitted. "I didn't get to talk to him much either but he didn't seem to be as bad as everyone made him out to be."
Daryl shot her a sideways glance and with a raised eyebrow said: "Even after all that shit he put Maggie and Glenn through? You can still say that?"
Beth flushed at the thought of her sister and future brother-in-law and internally chastised herself for forgetting about the torture the older Dixon man had delivered them over to. The only reason the others allowed Merle to stay in the prison was the fact that if they wouldn't have Merle – they wouldn't have Daryl either. Even so, it was apparent to Beth that Merle spent his last days trying to make amends with those he wronged and that left something to be said about the man.
"Well…I know he wasn't a saint," Beth began but Daryl stopped her.
"I know what you mean, Beth." He said, looking down at the table. "He could be your best friend or your worst enemy…All somebody had to do was decide which one it was gonna be. Merle...most of who he was…was somebody just a product of the environment they grew up in. He grew up rough."
"So did you," Beth countered as she watched Daryl cross the cell block to come sit next to her. He gently placed his hand on Judith's head and rubbed her hair as he spoke:
"You bet your ass I did, girl. Sure I grew up rough, too. But Merle? He practically raised me…but he didn't have anybody raising him. He had the streets…the lowlifes he hung out with…the juvenile courts…the Army…you name it – that's who raised him."
"Well ain't that something?" A voice came from the front of the cell and Beth and Daryl looked up to find Rick walking in, smiling.
"If I didn't know any better I'd say y'all look like husband, wife…" Rick reached down and lifted Judith out of Beth's arms. "And baby." He added, lifting his daughter to his scruffy face, tickling her belly with his nose. Judith cooed and giggled.
After exchanging a few words with Daryl, Rick thanked Beth, took his daughter and left. Beth and Daryl sat side by side one another each listening to the sound of Rick's boots scuffing the floor as he walked away.
"I'm sorry," Beth whispered, going back to the subject of Merle. "I'm sorry you lost him. Don't know if anybody has told you that or not."
No. Daryl thought. Nobody has…Except you.
Another thought popped into his mind, this one more fun and spontaneous.
"Hey," He nudged Beth with his elbow. "Ya wanna get outta here?"
"Right now?" Beth asked surprised that Daryl would even suggest such a thing.
"Come on," Daryl prodded, grinning. "We won't go far, I promise."
…
"Found these long time ago at some fireworks stand," Daryl explained to Beth as he pulled out a stash of Black Cat firecrackers, bottle rockets, roman candles, smoke balls, and sparklers. They were back in the guard tower and Beth curiously watched Daryl rummage through the plastic sack.
"Place had been raided good when I stumbled across the joint," Daryl continued. "No cherry bombs, mortars or missiles…just this pansy stuff but I figured what the hell, ya know? Why not?"
He lit a string of Black Cats and threw them over the tower railing. Soon, the repetitive popping noise filled the night air. Beth heard the moans and growls of some walkers outside the prison fences and she instantly worried.
"I don't think we should do this, Daryl," Beth said. "It's gonna make too much noise and draw attention from the walkers."
"Good," Daryl replied, not in the least concerned. "Let's put on a show for 'em."
He cleared his throat and put on his best announcer voice and shouted down to the walkers:
"Ladies and gentlemen…boys and girls…welcome to the West Georgia Correctional Facility Fourth of July Spectacular!"
Beth heard the growls get louder and the fences below start to rattle. She put her hand on Daryl's shoulder and gave him a slight shake.
"Don't worry, Beth," He said, meeting her worried eyes. "I know it's a risk…but right now I just don't care. Everything you do anymore is a risk. I know we gotta watch our asses…I know. But tonight…I just wanna live again, even for just five minutes. Ya with me or not?"
Beth hesitated. She stared at Daryl for a moment and then glanced back down at the ravenous corpses, snarling and rattling the fences. The noise from the firecrackers could attract a bigger build-up. They could break down the fence. But then again, maybe nothing would happen. Maybe they would gang up there in one place for the night and by sunrise they would grow tired and wander off.
Beth looked back at Daryl and smiled. "Happy 4th, Daryl," She laughed. "Let's blow some shit up!"
"Alright, way to go, Peaches!" Daryl exclaimed and handed her a pack of matches and another string of Black Cats.
They took turns throwing firecrackers, laughing at the way the walkers would stand there and shake like somebody having a seizure when the explosives went off. The bottle rockets and roman candles cut through the air with sharp whistles and bright colors. They laughed and set off everything in the bag. All that was left was the sparklers.
"Oh, those girlie things?" Daryl said. "You can have those…I don't want -"
Beth lit a sparkler and instantly a ball of fire shooting tiny stars burned between them. The light made it possible for the first time that night that they could see each other clearly. Beth and Daryl stood there, watching the sparkler and watching each other. Beth felt her heart skip a beat.
"Daryl," She whispered. "Why did you kiss me?"
He had almost forgotten all about that. The sparkler fizzled out and burned down to a glowing ember.
"Beth, I…" He was caught off guard. He didn't know what to say but tried to stall. "Beth…I kissed you because -"
"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON UP THERE?!" A voice bellowed from below. Sounded like Rick.
Beth and Daryl ran to look over the railing and the glare of a LED flashlight blinded them.
"Beth?! Daryl?" That was Maggie, Beth could tell.
Beth and Daryl quickly descended the stairs and there at the bottom was Rick, Maggie, Glenn and Hershel - all four staring at the two of them like they should be committed.
"Daryl," Rick began, obviously trying to keep his voice level and calm. "You mind telling me what those loud popping sounds were?"
"Fireworks, Rick." Daryl replied, casually.
Rick's jaw, among the others, dropped.
"Fireworks?" Rick repeated, incredulous. "Fireworks?!"
"Yeah. Black Cats, bottle rockets, some roman candles…Y'all should have been there, man - it was beautiful!" Daryl gushed, a touch of sarcasm in his tone.
"You set off fireworks?!" Glenn exclaimed. "Daryl, that's so stupid…Why would you do that?"
Beth couldn't help but giggle. "It is the 4th, you know," She chimed in.
All eyes drifted over to her and she felt a strange wave of giddiness - that feeling when she knew she was in deep trouble but didn't care because the fun she had was worth it.
When nobody said anything, Beth added with a wave of her arms: "Happy 4th of July!" and burst into a fit of giggles.
Hershel sighed, exchanged a look with Maggie and shifted anxiously on his cane.
"Come on, Beth," He said. "Let's go, now."
Hershel was a kind man but his tone clearly said he was serious. Beth followed behind Hershel while trying to ignore the suspicious looks from Maggie. She could hear Rick and Glenn chewing out Daryl but when she took one last glance back at him, she swore she saw him catch her eye, smirk, and wink.
