“Happy Freedom Day, Esther!” said Mr. Locke, stopping just long enough to knuckle the brim of his cap before scurrying down the street with his bag of supplies.

“Comply no more, Mav!” said Grandma, returning the greeting with a raised pointer finger.

Calls of “Happy Freedom Day” and “Comply no more!” rang in the distance as we made our way past the other families, frazzled fathers and beaming mothers and laughing children, rushing home to begin the preparations. Hover cars buzzed to and fro overhead.

Grandma nearly tripped over a firework that had fallen out of the Roses’ shopping bag. “I think you dropped this!” she called after Mrs. Rose.

“Oh, thank you so much. I absolutely—”

“Mo-o-o-m!” cried Lysander.

“Excuse me, Esther, I have to—”

“Don’t worry,” grandma laughed, waving Mrs. Rose away. “We’ll see you at the celebration.”

“Yes, you will! Happy Freedom Day!” cried Mrs. Rose, already halfway down the street and bending over to pick up a glowstick that Lysander had dropped behind him.

When we got home, I helped Grandma unpack the supplies as she began preparing our picnic for the Freedom Day celebration.

“Grandma?”

“Yes, sweetie?”

“Can I hear the story?”

“Already? But we’ve just begun the—”

“Grandma, I need to hear it now.”

Hearing the tone of my voice, grandma stopped short. She nodded, looked me in the eye and smiled. Drawing me to the sofa, she pulled the book from the shelf.

Without another word, she cracked the hefty tome and began to read.