The Fire
The fire was breaking into pieces as it was falling into the washbasin. The first flames were disappointed to feel cold, wet porcelain and they died. So, the flames that followed began snatching desperately for anything they could grab on their way down from the light fixture. Thankfully, some caught on the cabinet handle. One licked up the delicious paint, sizzling and curling the pale blue until it was nice and black and charred. Another piece of fire snagged on the toothbrush holder. The red flame played with the four toothbrushes, twisted their straight backs and shriveled their bristles.
Running out of fuel and desperate to live, one flame searched up and reached out from its landing place in the sink. The only food it could find was the corner of a towel, spread out on the adjoining counter, ready for changing the baby’s diapers. It was sufficient! Dry cotton was a tasty meal. Billows of smoke signaled the fire’s enjoyment as it consumed the towel and then found the baby’s “A First Book of Colors”. Slowly, it crept along the Formica counter top, melting, blackening and bubbling as it spread.
Suddenly, the bathroom door swung open and a young boy dashed in to use the toilet. The lad backed out quickly, however. Stunned, he called out down the stairs, “Mum, it’s foggy in the bathroom!”
Mother, wondering what tricks her son was up to now, investigated. Quickly, she assessed the situation and took charge. She herded the three children onto the outside porch with instructions to stay there and look after the baby. She called 911 and joined the children on the porch.
The fire relished the fresh oxygen supplied through the open door and proceeded to eat away at the wooden cupboard. A few minutes later delight turned to dismay as men with boots, slickers, hats and a hose took over its domain. Water quenched its own thirst on the fire’s flames. Reduced to embers and fizzles, water put an end to the frolicking flames.
“Just a little fire, Ma’am. We’ll be back for the fans in a few hours. The windows are all open upstairs to clear the smoke. Looks like the cause was some fabric igniting on the naked light bulb above the sink.”
Over supper that evening the two older children explained their bathroom routine: wash hands, grab the towel, walk around the rim of the bathtub while drying hands and toss the towel as you leave.
“It got stuck up there and I couldn’t reach,” said the younger one.
by Andrea Kidd
