My Ranking Points
That faraway place, part 5 (check out the other parts here!!! @scubatuba)
it’s ringing in my ears, its chilling me to the core, its sucking all happiness out of me. Carla’s screams are echoing around the house, her words are incomprehensible. There are two other people yelling as well- mom and dad? -I can’t tell.
The second I heard Carla, I was racing down the steps, frantically calling her name, I reach the bottom, and I’m immediately sprinting to the kitchen, I see her, she’s there, she’s whole, she’s unharmed, she’s terrified and pale.
Fire. The only word that registers in my mind. fire. there’s a fire in the kitchen, I think it spread from the kitchen towel on the stove, its licking the hem of Carla’s night clothes, it’s burning mom’s hand as she ventures close to pour water on it, it’s gliding down the wooden counter, father’s attempting to block it by the other side with more water, but that just seems to make it jump up, and scorch the cabinets. I understand what Carla was -and is- screaming now, “fire! there’s a fire! Jamie! help us, quick!” I race towards Carla at her words, gripping her by the waist and running from the kitchen with her, she’s shaking slightly, I set her down outside and tell her to stay put, she nods, wiping her eyes which have watered from the smoke. Now confident that Carla is safe, I run back into the house, I see the fire hiss and sizzle as my father pours more water on it. “It’s an oil fire, you idiot!” I scream angrily, as I grab the biggest *** in the other cabinet across the room and cover the tallest flames. Father stops for a second, I assume he’s slightly taken aback by my insult, but he soon disregards it, reaching for another *** to smother the fire. Mother runs outside and I don’t understand what for, but she comes back with an old pale me and Carla used at the beach full of dirt and throws it on the fire, quickly smacking it with her hand to spread it. I’m unsure of what to do for a second, but I decide to go back to Carla, mom and dad seem to understand now, so I race towards the door again, and rush to Carla’s side, hugging her tighter then I have ever hugged her before as she sobs into my shoulder, still shaking. “shh… shh…. it’s all right, mom and dad are handling it now. it’s okay, you’re safe, we’re safe” I sit down criss cross apple sauce, and rest Carla on my lap where she answers “Okay” in a shaky and tearful voice.
“alright, we think it’s safe now” mom says after a long time of waiting. I pick up Carla and walk into the house, the living room is fine, but half the kitchen is black and smoking, and that accompanied with the dirt all over, was not a very nice thing to see in your home, Carla whimpers and hides her face in my shoulder, I cry a bit too, as what had happens sinks in, the adrenaline in my vanes gone, fear replacing it. “oh!” mom gasps, and embraces us both whispering reassurances into our ears.
Me and Carla spend the day helping our parents clean up the kitchen, and mother explains how the fire started. Apparently, someone had spilled a little cooking oil last time we baked, and a cloth was left on the stove, and when mom turned it on, the cloth caught fire, but mom was a bit to late and the fire had reached the oil she didn’t know was there when she poured water on it, and that worsened it, but she didn’t think of oil fires in her panicked state.
We eat out that night, going to a little restaurant with the best cheese cake I’ve ever tasted. “g’night, mousy” I whisper into the dark, while settling into bed, but after a little while Carla crawls in with me as she often does when we’ve had a particularly fearful day. We soon fall asleep in each others arms.
The next day, I go out into town, I follow the path to timothy’s house, I feel slightly ashamed that I gave him so little thought, after all, I won’t see him either. I knock on his front door, and listen to his footsteps coming down the stairs soon after. “o-oh, Jamie! good to see you, I-I hadn’t expected you to come over” he says after seeing me on his doorstep. “Why wouldn’t I come see you, we’re friends after all” We go for a walk talking about our lives, and he seems horrified when I tell him about the fire and so relieved when I tell him the doll I got Carla was undamaged, we laugh and talk, and tell old stories we both already know until we find ourselves watching the sun fall over the horizon, and I think it might all be okay.