FIRE HELP in Short stories

HELP FIRE - (A Short life story in Winchester)- The year was 1976 and a young 12 yr old, me, and his 10 yr old friend and neighbor Sean Collins were looking for buried treasure in the attic eves of the old Victorian home I lived in.

A beautiful old home with old growth trees throughout the slightly hilly property on the north western ridge of the large river valley that is Winchester, MA. Our home was resting in a small circular street, Wolcott rd, with Maple, Oak, Beach, and Green Hedges in an idyllic New England neighborhood. We had a large detached garage, sweeping front porch, brown shingled siding covering its three stories, with multiple high steep peaked roofs and porch roofs, and ample windows.

A beautiful old home with its typical unfinished third floor, other than the servants quarters. As was customary there was one finished room on the third floor attic area with a separate fully concealed staircase that opened to the servants landing on the third floor outside of their room with no fireplace so I can only imagine the cold in the room, to the second floor, the kitchen, and offered a quick step to the basement door and coal room stairs.

Sean and I were deep in the A framed eves behind the servants quarters that was maybe three feet across and three feet at its apex. You had to safely crawl in to avoid the nails from the roofing sticking through the boards above your head sticking into your back or head as you navigated inside the 8-10 feet Eve. There was no flooring just 2x8 flooring joists with some recently added pink insulation so we brought in three pieces of narrow plywood off cuts so we would not fall through the floor and crawled on one of them then reached back to place the next one forward to advance our treasure hunt.

We lit our way on this grand adventure with a kerosene glass lantern, a relic from the early 1900’s that added to our adventure. It’s bulbous fuel bottom was of green opaque glass as was its cover with burnt brass fittings, more decorative than functional, but function it did.

Sean and I were full of dreams of finding treasure, coins, anything as at this time Time Capsules were all the rage for the 200th anniversary of independence. If we were putting them together surely 100 years ago one was likely hidden in this eve and we would find it, much to our youthful imagination and glee.

I went first and turned to get the next board to continue the adventure with the kerosene lamp resting between Sean and I lighting the way for this grand adventure. The back of board closest to Sean hit the lamp and it shattered it front of my eyes still holding the plywood to advance our adventure, it erupted into flames and I could see the Fear on Sean’s face through the Flames as I screamed call the Fire Department. There I was stuck in the small eve crawl space fire growing, smoke now choking me, and I’m trapped the fire is near the opening and I’m in the eve. Coughing and scared beyond comprehension the heat rising I realized I still had the board in my hand and I threw it over the fire and scrambled out of the eve. By the grace of God I had somehow smothered the fire.

I ran down the servants stairs to the kitchen crying and shaking in shock seeking the comfort and safety of my mom. My less than five foot tall Irish mom in her brogue let out with a shrill “Jesus Mary and Joseph your ok.” Fire Fire Fire I’m sorry mom I’m sorry I didn’t mean it is was an accident I think it’s out but I’m not sure, “ yes I know Sean alerted me and I’ve rung the Fire Brigade now let’s go check boyo”.

As we headed up stairs the smoke was thick and stingy to the eyes and the smell of burnt insulation hurt your lungs and nose. Just then the Fire Department arrived with the Ladder truck outside the Firemen who seemed like giants in their helmets, jackets, and heavy pants and boots ran up the stairs with axes and poles to the third floor eve. They pulled the insulation and left it in the back yard and assured my mom it was out and how lucky we were. On their way out one fireman put his hand reassuringly on my head and winked at me as he went out the door, a gesture of kindness that lives boldly with me today.

And then after the relief, came my moms pronouncement that once my Father came home from work I would need to tell him how I had tried to burn the house down being “a right idget” This prompted a quick collection of my favorite items with the thought of running away, as surely he was going to kill me.

Dad came home and I was pacing outside near the burnt insulation wondering how bad a beating I would get, and should I run away now. Dad entered the back yard I froze and started to cry and he said “ your mom tells me you tried to burn the house down” I responded through sobbing tears I’m sorry and Dad said “glad your ok son no more kerosene lanterns ok?” To which I replied never ever again.

The kindness of a Fireman and the unexpected kindness of my Father, who tended toward physical abuse and altercations and punishments, was a moment in my young life that shaped the kindness and compassion in me today.

Out of Trauma is born new identity!

(My poetry can be found on instagram https://instagram.com/p/BnovC-ABE99/ )