Summer nights sizzle in Boston. The city oozes with heat as people crowd the streets in the North End.
Friends congregate on the corner of Parmenter and Salem streets to plan out their next destination for the night. Parents hold tightly to their kids; kids hold tightly to their ice cream cones and Italian ices. Couples are unfazed by the drips of sweat that trickle through their entwined hands.
Cell phones sing in the background of the neighborhood band, which presents the Lady Madonna as she’s carried through the streets. People crowd the statue to add their dollar bill to the Society.
Scene: North End Fisherman's Feast
Sausages and peppers sizzle on the portable grill. Mike’s Pastry welcomes a long line of tourists eager to get their hands on a cannoli or almond cookie. The sounds of carnival games get louder as the night gets longer. We slowly make our way down Hanover Street to check out the buzz, weaving our way through the hundreds of people who flock to the feasts. The not-quite-teen-not-quite-adult boys stand perched in a corner, eying the the newcomers to the area and wondering which of the young ladies might be back next weekend for another feast. I love watching the excitement on the faces of little kids the first time they knock down all the soda bottles and get a prize, and the proud expressions on the faces of elderly residents who have been part of the feasts for 50 or more years.
I make my way back to my front step, where a bottle of wine with good friends and a good view of the action awaits. The feast- or maybe the heat- has taken its toll on a few night dwellers. Loud inaudible sounds are coming from their mouths as they start to strip in the street. Four-letter words flow through the night air as the drunk and stupid make their way home. The little old ladies – the neighborhood watch – sit in their windows with their fingers on the phone ready to dial if one of the overheated gets out of line.
All walks of life from all over the world converge on the narrow North End streets. We slither past one another and practically stick to strangers thanks to the humid night air. I wonder if the neighborhood can get any closer.
