Urban and the Umbrella

 

Time moved at a snail's pace as Urban waited for his favorite band to start their set. He sat in the grass, next to his mother, waiting for the Breakfast Brothers to give their first performance of the summer. Every Saturday, Urban would wake up at 6:00 to catch their morning show on channel five. His mother purchased him a full sized ukulele to strum along with them. The television room is far enough away from her bedroom that it really was okay.

Urban sat in the late morning sun, ukulele in hand, along with a packed crowd of preschoolers. They were all ready to see their musical heroes take stage. A redheaded woman and a curly-haired, freckled, five year old girl came and sat directly in front of him and his mother. His mother, distracted by her phone, hardly noticed, or didn't care.

The redheaded woman opened up a parasol. She placed it over the back of the freckled girls head, directly in front of Urban.

“Mama.”

“Yes?” she said, not looking away from her phone.

“Mama, I can't see.” His mother put the phone down to survey the problem.

The redheaded lady, must have overheard the conversation because she turned around. “I'm so sorry about the umbrella. I have to protect my daughter from the sun, she burns very quickly. I hope you can still see the show.” She never stopped smiling as she said this.

“Actually, no, he can't see. Do you mind switching with us? The two of you can sit behind us?”

“I'm sorry, no. I'm happy where we are. There are some spots on the side, over there.” The lady pointed to a spot by the trash cans.

“Well, that's where you should have sat.”

“This is my daughter's favorite television program, she wants to be front and center.”

“Then you should have gotten here earlier. Listen, you can't just come in right before the show starts, and sit in front of us like this, not with a freaking umbrella.” Urban's mother was looking for some support from the other moms in the audience. No one jumped to her aid.

“How about my son takes your spot, and you can sit behind your daughter?”

“Can't he just stand up?” she said grinning.

“No, then people behind him can't see. We're not as inconsiderate as…well…you.”

“No, I want to sit next to my daughter, not behind her. I think the show is about to start.” The lady turned around, still holding the umbrella behind her daughter's head.

Urban's mom shook her head. She had her tongue pressed against the inside of her cheek. She looked like she wanted to say something more, but did not. She stared at the back of the woman's head, then turned to him.

“Okay buddy, switch with me. If you sit right here, you can see between the umbrella and this lady's  fat head,” she said this loudly.

Urban and his mother readjusted. He now sat behind the lady's right shoulder and his mother behind the umbrella. Urban was able to see Doughnut Don through the narrow opening between the umbrella and the lady's fat head, which looked pretty normal sized to him.

“It's okay, mama. I can see now.”

His mom started digging through her bag, and snickered as she pulled out a magnifying glass from the set of toys she had packed.

“What are you doing with that, mama?”

She put her index finger to her lips. She had a mischievous look in her eyes and a devilish smirk on her face. She held up the magnifying glass and focused the sun's rays on the paper umbrella.

“Mama, that's going to b—”

“Shh.” She leaned in and whispered to him, “I'm not going to burn it, I'm just going to put spots on it, like that girl's ugly face.”

Urban shook his head, and turned his attention back to the Breakfast Brothers. He caught most of their act through the alley straight in front of him. He turned to see his mother spotting the umbrella, her plan was working.

And then the umbrella caught fire, sending everyone around them to their feet. The fire was not big enough to hurt anyone, but it spread through the umbrella's canopy quickly. When she noticed, the redheaded woman stood up, raising the umbrella. Itt went up in a blaze of glory. It looked like a torch in her hands. Her smile finally gone, she was ready to hang his mother.

“You did this! You imbecile, you could have hurt my daughter.”

His mother faced her palms up to the sky, shrugged and shook her head. She claimed ignorance. The redheaded lady looked around, but no one came to her aid.
The woman threw the burnt umbrella at my mom's feet and stomped the last few embers out. She grabbed her daughter and walked away. “I'll be back with the police.”

Urban was able to see the next song in wide panoramic view.

“Okay, we have to go, now,” his mother stood and pulled him away by the hand.

“Mama, I told you it would burn.”

“I knew it would.”

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