The Fire Man II

“Are you crazy?” I screamed from outside the broken window. “Why are you still here?”

“The Lord'll provide,” the big nigger answered. He sat in an over-stuffed chair with his back toward me. I watched as he lifted a wrinkled brown bag from his lap and took several gulps from a bottle hidden inside.

The four little pickaninnies at his feet looked up at me over their father's shoulder.

I took a quick backwards glance at the trees at the edge of my great granddaddy's dilapidated property. Smoke blew directly toward us from across the dirt road. Something furry and half lit up in blue flame came tearing out of the low brush along the road before disappearing into a drainage ditch.

“I told you y'all had to get out, now you have no choice!” I said to the back of the man's head.

“We ain't leavin'.”

“You want to stay here and burn?!”

“Got nowhere to go.”

“The fire!” I screamed. “Y'all gotta leave right now!”

Nobody moved but for the children's eyes jumping from me to their father and back again..

“You kids!” I said. “Listen up now; we're going for a swim in the lake!”

To my surprise, all four children immediately stood to their feet.

“Can we, Daddy?” one asked.

“Go,” their father said.

They came outside holding hands, edgy and nappy-headed with big white eyes. They looked me up and down.

“You a fire man?” a kid asked.

“No way,” said another.

“Get in the back seat,” I said as we ran for the truck. Thick black smoke was now rolling toward us from out of the trees like something alive and skulking toward our scent.

My hands and shirt smelled of kerosene and motor-oil and I had a quick thought it would be me the flames were after. “We'll be okay,” I said touching the ignition wires together..

“We forgot swim trunks!” said a tiny voice from the backseat.

“The Lord will provide...” I heard myself say as I gunned the stolen truck down the driveway.