Lightning Bugs in Mason Jars

         It was eerily strange to look across the bayou and see no lights.  In this age of technology you would think that you could make it through a storm and keep your lights on, but Katrina was no ordinary storm.  New Orleans pretty much took a direct hit.  Five hours north of New Orleans, the small rural communities were not prepared for the rain and gale force winds that tore through the countryside. 

         The massive old pecan orchards were destroyed by the high winds and the ground was so saturated from the onslaught of rain that huge oak and pine trees were pushed down, leaving their whole root system visible and gaping holes in the ground where they had stood.  The trees  in turn took out massive amounts of power lines,  leaving whole cities and towns in total darkness.

         It had been three days and people were getting antsy.  No power, no lights, no air, no radio, no television, and no relief in sight.  Jasmine sat on the porch of Omega plantation, fanning herself with a magazine.  She was grateful that the porch had been screened years ago.  The sound of the ravenous, angry mosquitoes hitting the screen made her wonder how people had made it through the hot and muggy Louisiana summers before technology had given them the luxury of air conditioning. 

         Jasmine was single and had no children which had always been a source of great pain for her, but tonight as she sat on the porch alone, she was relieved that she didn’t have anyone relying on her to get them through this mess.  Her neighbors had two boys, Ben who was eleven and Joshua who was nine and a half, and the half was very important.  They were like two peas in a pod, you never saw one without the other.   

         Suddenly out of the stillness, she heard what sounded like someone cranking up a generator.  If she had been wise, she would have bought one for herself.  It sure would come in handy right about now.  Living in Northeast Louisiana all her life, she had never been without power for more than 24 hours and that was way back in 1974 during an ice storm.  Who would have ever thought that a hurricane in the Gulf of Mexico could cause so much damage to the power grid that they may be two weeks without electricity.

         The generator roared to life and then sputtered and died causing the night to be even more silent than it had been a moment before.  Jasmine leaned back in the old worn rocker and started so sing an  Art Garfunkel number, The Sound of Silence.

         “Hello darkness, my old friend, I’ve come to talk with you again….”  Jasmine’s voice faded to nothing as she realized how fitting the song was for the night and it had been so long since she had heard it and yet it arrived on the tip of her tongue at the moment it was relevant in her life.  She laughed at the synchronicity of life and then took up where she left off singing.  “Because a vision softly creeping, Left its seeds while I was sleeping, and the vision that was in my brain still remains, without the sound of silence.”

         Once again, the generator roared to life and this time it sounded stronger.    It wasn’t long before shouts of victory could be heard intermingled with squeals of delight from the two boys.  The static of an FM radio further broke the silence of the night.  That got Jasmine’s attention and she sat up and leaned out to see if she would be able to hear the announcer.  She hadn’t heard any news in three days.  The main radio towers had been damaged in the storm and they could pick up a few  channels on the radio, but nothing local.  Finally curiosity got the better of her and she went to the screen door and looked out.  She couldn’t believe her eyes.  Even in the distance, the sharp contrast of the little lights against the backdrop of total darkness stopped her dead in her tracks. 

         “When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light that split the night, and touched the sound of silence.”  She sang as she danced on her porch.  She stopped to catch her breath and the soft cotton skirt wrapped around her legs.  She was excited for her neighbors.  They had taken a couple of strands of Christmas lights and strung them around the yard and it was surprising how much light they produced.  She thought about walking over and sharing in the little victory celebration, but  being born southern, she would never go anywhere uninvited.  Encased in silence once again she decided to call it a night.  She locked the screen door on the porch and entered the big old house and closed the door behind her.

         Her eyes had already adjusted to the darkness and she could see the pieces of furniture that had been passed down with the house.  The first shots of the siege of Vicksburg had been fired from the upstairs balcony and the original owner of the home, who had fired the shots, later died by his own hand because he feared being taken prisoner by Union soldiers.  Her great grandfather had purchased the property dirt cheap in 1865, shortly after the Civil War ended.    When he died it had passed to her grandfather.  He lost everything that he owned except for the house and furnishings during the great depression.  He  had lived there until his death and passed it to his son, her father, a Vietnam vet who rode out the great recession of 1987, losing everything that he had except for the house and the furnishings.  He was an only child and Jasmine was his only child so for the first time in its history, the house had fallen in to the hands of a female heir.  Jasmine had rode out Katrina, the largest hurricane ever to make landfall in U.S. history, on August 29, 2005.

         Jasmine had always taken pride in the old home and she loved  the old Victorian pieces that filled the upper and lower level of the home.  She knew that many people had lost everything in this storm and yet she had been spared.  Yes, she was suffering through a few hardships, but she had no damage from the wind or the rain. 

         Again she thought of the Garfunkel song and how strangely prophetic the lyrics sounded.  Singing them silently in her head, she made her way to the staircase.  Before she had put her foot on the first tread, she thought she heard voices.  She stopped and listened and sure enough she could hear her neighbor, Marianne and she could also hear the voices of two very excited little boys.  They had to be coming here because she was the last house on the street and there was nowhere else they could be going.  The screen door on the porch was locked, so she had best go meet them.

         She hurried back to the porch and unlatched the screen just as three people came around the corner of the house.  Marianne was carrying a flashlight, but the boys were carrying jars of some sort. 

         “Hey guys, what are you doing out so late?”

         “We asked our mom and she said it was okay.”  Joshua said very seriously.

         “Yeah, cause there is no school tomorrow.”  Ben piped.

         “Hi Marianne, is everything okay?”

         “Yes, everything is fine, we are just tired of being without power and everything that that entails.  How are you?”

         “I am fine and just feeling grateful that we didn’t have any major damage.  It seems like everyone around us has been hit pretty hard.  Have you heard anything about New Orleans.”

   

         “It’s bad.  It’s really bad.  But we are busy being grateful too.  Joe did get the generator up and running this afternoon.  Which is a blessing.“

         “I know I saw the lights from here.  Such a neat idea to hang the Christmas lights.”

         “Tell her mom.”  The boys seemed a little impatient.

         “Okay, give me a minute, I’m getting there.  Excuse them Jasmine, I think that the lack of power is getting to them, they have entirely lost their manners.”

         "That’s fine, they must be excited about something.”

         “Well, last night they decided they just couldn’t go to bed in the dark, so they caught these lightning bugs and put them in jars all around the house.  It didn’t produce much light, but they felt better about the dark knowing that the lightning bugs were there.  As soon as it got dusk this evening, they started catching them again.”

         “I can see that.”  Jasmine laughed, “Did you put holes in the tops so that they can breathe?”

         “Yes ma’am.”  They said in unison.

         “When Joe got the generator running, we hooked up the Christmas lights and the freezer.  But I have some meat in the refrigerator that needs to be cooked, so we are going to cook out on the grill.  We wanted to invite you down.  It is more than we can eat and we would love to have you join us.”

         “That would be really nice.”

         “Mom, tell her.”

         “I’m getting there.”  Marianne shrugged her shoulders and made a silly face as mothers will do when their kids put them on the spot.  “Any way, since we have the Christmas lights, the boys don’t need their bug lights anymore and they were worried about you, so they wanted to offer you their lights so that you wouldn’t have to be alone in the dark.”

         Jasmine tried to speak, but nothing would come for the lump in her throat.  She swallowed and cleared her throat and tried again.  The puzzled look on the boy’s faces made her wish that the words would come, but when the third attempt failed, she just shook her head.

         “It’s okay if you don’t want them, cause we know girls don’t like bugs.”  Joshua blurted out almost in tears.

         Suddenly Jasmine’s voice returned and she assured the little boy that she was not afraid of bugs as best she could through her tears. 

         “Why is she crying Mom, is she going to come eat with us or not.”

         “Yes, she is.  She has just been in the dark too long and your gesture has made her emotional.  Here Ben, take the flash light and your brother and run along home.  Watch the ground really good, all this water has the snakes moving.  We will be along in a minute.”

         They didn’t have to be told twice.  They extended their hands and each hand held two jars filled to capacity with little glowing bugs.  While they didn’t produce a great amount of light, it was comforting.  Jasmine sat them on a table and told Marianne to give her just a minute to grab her keys and she would join her so the boys didn’t have to walk alone for long.  The boys were gone in a flash, and all tears were forgotten.  Jasmine grabbed her keys and a flashlight for her trip back home and the two women started down the road to join the boys.

         Later that night when she returned, she had forgotten about the jars until she stepped onto the porch and was greeted by the flickering lights.  She thought about the words of that old song again and wondered at the generous offer of light by two little boys.  In that instant she understood that song in a way that she never had.  She could deal with the darkness, it was the silence that had been so painful. 



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