Episode 23: Harvest Festival

You are standing outside the Union Hall on this first weekend in October, taking in the sights of the Harvest Festival kicking off all around you. There is a communal cider press happening on College Avenue, which has been closed to car traffic for the weekend. People from all over town are gathered together, bringing buckets of apples and all manner of mechanical presses to make cider. There are big aluminum stock pots on an enormous portable camping stove, fragrant with cinnamon, lemon zest, and nutmeg. Someone at the stove sees you at the edge of the crowd, and they ladle a camp mug full of fresh cider from one of the pots, handing it to a nearby kid and nodding your way. The kid scurries over and presses the mug into your hands, saying, “This is for you.”

You say, “Thank you so much,” and you feel the intense warmth of the mug. When you draw the cider to your lips, it is nearly too hot to drink. But you take a small sip, and as the golden flavors announce their arrival, you close your eyes, taking a grateful breath.

Joshua and the rest of the Festival Committee are working out of the cafeteria on the top floor of the Union Hall. Joshua sees you from across the room and calls out, “Hello, You!”

You call out in turn, “Hello, Joshua! How are you holding up?”

He walks over to you at an unhurried pace, voices chattering in the headset he is wearing. Joshua says, “If you can believe it, I feel pretty chill. Everyone has been amazing, and we’re in great shape.” He glances over your shoulder at the clock on the wall. “In fact, you’re not due here until after dinner. Can you do me a favor in the meantime?”

You say, “Yes, of course. What do you need?”

Joshua winks at you, and says, “Go out and have fun. Enjoy the day. This is my favorite day of the year in town, and it’s your first Harvest Festival. Oh, how cool it would be to see it all again for the first time! Get out of here, kid.”

You give him a mock salute as you say, “Heard, Chef.”

Back outside, you take a closer look at the map and schedule posted at the Harvest Festival Info Center. There are Highland Games happening on the high school campus at the edge of town. There is a soapbox derby happening out that way as well, on Stevens Lane. But you decide to stay on College Avenue, slowly making your way toward the carnival midway on the quad of Lucretia Mott College. You have been watching them set up the midway all week from your office, and now, you’d like to take a few spins on the rides.

But first, you wander through the temporary pavilions in the middle of the street, where the farm kids from around the area are showing off their prize animals. There are goats attempting to eat their enclosures, proud horses allowing themselves to be brushed by their young minders, and even a few dairy cows. 

One of the farm kids says to you, with obvious excitement, “Would you like to pet my cow?”

You say, “Yes, absolutely.” You walk over to the enclosure, as the kid entices the cow toward the fence with a slice of apple. You reach over, feeling the softness of the cow’s fur behind her ear. As she moos her gratitude for your attention, you take a slow breath.

You hear some familiar voices behind you cry out, “We want to pet the cow, too!”

You turn to see DeAndre and Jayda, pulling their Dads toward you like puppies straining at their leashes. You say, “Hello, family! It’s lovely to see you.”

Kevin, one of the Dads, says, “Great to see you.”

Jayda looks up at you and says, with a stern face, “Where is your Mom?”

You answer, “She’s at her house today. But she’s coming here next weekend. I’ll make sure we find a time to get together.”

Jayda considers this, and then declares, “Good.”

DeAndre chews on one of his thumbs for a moment, and then says to you, “We’re gonna go ride some rides. Do you wanna come with us?”

You tell him, “Yes, I was about to head there myself.”

The five of you walk the few remaining blocks up College Avenue to campus, where the carnival rides are drawing a sizable crowd. You and the kids and their Dads stumble through the house of mirrors, and then you all take a couple turns on the giant slide, your stomach fluttering as you bounce over the bumps of the slide on your potato sack. The kids then insist on taking you on the carousel, sitting three in a row on horses that gently glide up and down as the ride turns in a slow circle. At one point, you notice your older friend Elise from the Care Center, sharing a funnel cake and a candy apple with her sister Pat in front of the food trucks. The two of them are sitting on their walkers, laughing together.

Before long, it’s time for your volunteer shift in the support center at the Union Hall. You put on a headset to help coordinate other volunteers all over town, helping people find lost objects and reconnect with family members who got separated in the crowds. As the evening wears on, the radio traffic quiets down, and you have a moment to step out onto the roof deck. You hear the sounds of the happy crowd filtering up from street level, and you see the bright and nearly full Moon overhead, in the crystal clear sky. You feel the chill of the October evening starting to settle over the town, and as you relax your eyes, you take an easy breath.

In the distance, you see the carnival lights, blinking and glowing and beckoning people to the top of the hill. There are shouts of delight coming from the Wild Mouse roller coaster, mingling with the pipe organ on the carousel, which offers its timeless song to the town.