It was the day the neighborhood was filled with the smell of watermelon. Not too overpowering, just a whiff you got as an award for making it through the night.

We all had theories, superstitions, about the smell. Mr. Thomas said, and I quote, “Maybe, it was God’s way of saying ‘Summer has begun.’” That could hardly be it; it was the dead of winter.

The Raines’ kids thought maybe a watermelon truck had crashed. But where was the metal?

Crazy Eddie said aliens had come during the night, and watermelon was the smell of their peace offering. Don’t get me started on that one.

Do you want to know what I think? I think that sometimes in life, instead of looking for an answer, you should look for beauty.