Fireworks and fictitious characters

I left Big Getter at the Burlington yacht club and though they were having a pig roast that seemed like a hoot and holler I was excited to get to Hannibal for the fourth of July celebrations. We drove Carlton's rent a car through Iowa's flooded farm landsand checked into the hotel Clemens. Hannibal was quaint with a tinge of kitsch. Every other business was named Becky, Tom or Huck. There was the Twain dinette and Sawyer creek. Where was Jim? I suppose I missed Jim's coffee shop but there probably is one. I wonder what the great writer would pen now in response to all the name calling? Hannibal's streets were converted into a carnival. Joy rides attracted all ages. I was fortunate to see the championship fence white washing competition. It was a messy affair between three 'Toms' clad in suspenders and tattered hats. Anticipation was in the air and the fireworks show lay on all our tongues. The first flare shot high into the night sky and burst green. The crowd clapped and all of the hyped-up-on-cotton-candy kids sat still. One mother next to me called to her son, it sounded like my name. I asked the kid what his name was. "Justus" he said. He was about eight years old. I told him that that was my name too. We were both thinking the same thing but he asked first, "How do you spell it?" I was about to answer but he spoke up like a brother unwilling to share his toy, "I spell it J-u-s-t-u-s." "Me too" I said proudly. Although we did not shake hands we shared a nod as if to simply say "cool." The fireworks lasted plenty long and my favorite were the ones that exploded into weeping willows and their embers burned long and slow. Tomorrow Carlton will help Karin and Steven run their shuttle and the Big Getter's torch will be passed on once again.