Saffron & Bruno and Bang, Crash, Bang, Boom Night!

Fizz and crackle whispered through the night.  Resounding bangs and thumps swiftly followed.  Hundreds of eyes stared up and gleamed in the light.  Looks of delight covered all the faces.  Moments of fear were quickly quashed by the beauty of the effervescence that exploded and fluttered towards the ground.  Anticipation filled each colourless void and an intake of breath accompanied each dull thud launch.  The blues and reds and greens and golds scattered in the sky shone joy on the chill evening and warmed the watching crowd.

“I love Bang, Crash, Bang, Boom Night!”  Shouted Stephen Number Four over the noise.

“Me too!  Whoopee!”  Cheered Stephen Number Thirteen as another firework exploded.

“So you say,” said Stephen Number Twelve, deep in conversation with Saffron, although both still with their eyes to the sky, “that this is all because of one Guy Fawkes?”

“Yes, well, no,” said Saffron, cwtching Bruno to her to keep herself warm, “He had some help.”

“I see,” said Stephen Number Twelve, and he thought for a minute, “And would he had have some help from, say, Bloke Knife and Chap Spoon?”

“No, silly,” Saffron laughed, “His name was Guy and it’s spelled F A W K E S, not forks like you eat with!”

“Oh,” said Stephen Number Twelve, feeling a little foolish, “I see.”  The pair oohed and ahhed as the display continued to populate the darkening sky with colour and noise.

Rachel, Natty and Sebastian and Tony, two of the boys from school, walked over to where Saffron was stood.  Each carried a sparkler and each created crazy patterns that hung in the air.  They spelled their names and drew funny pictures.  The fizzing, whizzing path of light stayed and then faded.  It lived on in their eyes as they tried to adjust back to the darkness.  The sparklers fizzed out.  Rachel’s Mum carefully gathered them off the children and carried them away to be dowsed before being discarded.

“Always remember to throw them away properly,” said Rachel.

Stephen Number Eight appeared to be attempting to break the world record for the number of hot dogs he could fit in his mouth in one go.  After the sparklers, the school friends each tucked into a hot dog of their own, the sausage smothered with onions and ketchup; red sauce dripping down hungry chins.  The smell of baking potatoes and other fire cooked food hung in the air, along with a waft of chips in cones swamped in vinegar, slightly stinging the eyes.

The explosions rose to a crescendo, as they always do on a Guy Fawkes’ Night.  Noise rolled and bubbled into one continuous roar of celebration and then the last of the lights showered down on the crowd.  Silence hovered, then gently descended on them.  As her ears readjusted, Saffron could hear ripples of applause from the gathered audience, appreciative comments from her ghostly friends.

“Yes,” said Stephen Number Four, “Bang, Crash, Bang Boom Night is probably my most favourite night of all!”