FIRE!

Last evening I was serenaded with live piano music while cheerfully texting with a friend who has been out-of-town for several weeks.  “We’ll get together soon…miss you!”  

All-of-a-sudden my resident pianist (husband) stopped playing and said, “Was that thunder?”

“I don’t think so,” I replied.  After all, it was a clear, still night.  The stars were thick.

He continued playing, this time a rousing version of “Scarborough Fair.” A few minutes later I thought I heard something like a low-pitched boom.  Although I’m slow to trust my faulty hearing, this seemed to confirm his suspicions.  “Yeah, I think there must be thunder in the distance,” I said.  He nodded in acknowledgement and kept playing.

Ten minutes later sirens screamed.  They came closer, their wails long, continuous, and overlapping. Lots of them. We rarely hear sirens here in the boonies.

“Those rumbles could have been something other than thunder - maybe explosions?” the pianist exclaimed, rising from behind the ivory keys to hurry outside.  I followed him.

Acrid smoke greeted us from across the water, swelling and roiling in clouds above rooflines, rising into the spotlights of fire trucks to slink into the night sky. Fire! As we watched, gigantic flames erupted above the treetops as if swelled by invisible billows – poof-POOF! A licking, roaring inferno belched sulphurous flames and flecks of red-hot ash, creating an unruly holocost gone wild.  We watched, numb with horror.

I repeatedly gasped out loud. I’d never witnessed a fire of this magnitude before, an engulfing beast intent on destruction. The ghastly fireball mirrored in the lake with a sort of sadistic irony, doubling the horrific nature of the scene. 

Was it so-and-so’s house?  Or a garage?  Was anyone in danger? Would the firemen be able to protect other nearby structures? There were no answers.  Details eluded us in the night.  

We heard more pops, more evidences of ongoing explosions. Streams of water flew high through the air, striking the raging blaze like winding, venomous snakes intent on subduing out-of-control combustion.  By midnight the awful scene seemed regulated, and we went to bed.

This morning I walked down the road to view the aftermath.  Caustic smoke still hung in the air, evidence of desolation. I welcomed comforting news: no one had been hurt.  I also learned the firemen were able to set up some sort of collapsible kidney-shaped holding tank that they filled with lake water to pump through their hoses. No shortage of water, thankfully!

A large barn behind the lakeside houses had ignited, possibly from a battery charger left to run unattended. Its owner used the barn as a mechanic shop, so flammable petroleum products were sprinkled everywhere.  It also stored a hodge-podge of manly stuff like hunting guns and ammunition, and in off-seasons, boats and snowmobiles. Last night it burned to the ground, leaving a smoldering heap of refuse: