Let's get in a line and get the food,' Ric said. 'These are beans, here's tortillas and tacos, and this is Kool Ade.' I wondered why he didn't call the beans frijoles. It didn't matter. We lined up and took scanty bits of food, I guess because we told ourselves we didn't know if we sould like it. I was sweating and my hands were cold. I almost dropped my plate. I had to have air. I walked to the door. The air from outside felt just as hot and it carried the smell of rain. The heavy leaves rustled like cornflakes. My friends were talking to each other about school, the football game, their last date, sex. I stood glancing down at the curled wallpaper by the floorboards, and I saw a beetle on the floor. I stepped on him. His shell cracked like a walnut. I left my foot over the body and kept quiet. I heard Ric's father come into the kitchen and i turned from the night. His complexion was lighter than Ric's. He wore a bright shirt with swirls of color on it. Its dark brown buttons matched his eyes. He smiled. His front teeth had been filled with porcelain.. I said 'Hi' and turned back to the darkness outside. I heard him call Ric aside by the corner of the the kitchen and talk to him. 'Ric...please...remember what I told you. You can't talk to just one or two of them. They're your guests. We mustn't discriminate.' The rain came all at once and outside a train whistled past in a clacking rush. It washed the floodwater off the tracks and took the day's heat and dust with it. It left the tracks gleaming and bare to the wind's scrutiny. Off to the right a signalman waved his lantern. The evening ended about ten and I drove home in mud and rain. I wasn't concentrating and I got lost again finding my way home. It's funny how simple little ironies don't strike you as such at the time. You don't, or can't, think about them in the heat of the moment. You sort of back off and they come back piece by piece to make you want to kick yourself around the block a couple of times. These are the things that change the course of just another ordinary party. Maybe that's why I didn't sleep that night, in the muggy darkness of an August rain. by Van Therald 21