Fire and Ash
WHOOMP!
Something cut through my usual early morning deep sleep. I struggled awake, fumbling on the night stand for my glasses, trying to focus barely open eyes, trying to make sense of the odd light against the window. Only then did I hear the shouting and the crackling.
I got up, put a robe on even as I pushed back the drapes; the house across the street was afire.
I rushed to my front door and out on the porch. The house was completely engulfed and a fire truck was just coming up the street. Several of the neighbors stood in the street; Gary Miller was spraying his house with a hose and shouting something -- I don't know what, and Ashley Ward was standing on my lawn, watching her house collapse in on itself. The only thing left to the firemen was dousing the remaining flames and embers.
I called Ashley to my porch; she was in complete shock; ashen, shaking, clutching herself. She was in a robe and slippers; pajama legs showing below the robe. Her eyes were wide and her lips apart, as if to say something, but nothing came out.
A fireman asked if she was the homeowner and all she could do was nod. When he asked her name, Ashley just whispered a reply. He told her someone would be talking to her in a bit. I told him she'd be in my house.
I took her in and started a pot of coffee. As we waited I asked what had happened.
"I don't really know. The smoke alarm woke me ... what a god-awful noise ... there was smoke everywhere ... I just grabbed my robe and slippers ... didn't even put them on until I was outside ... the heat , the heat was bad, so I came across the street ... Mack, my house is gone. Everything I own ... even my purse, car keys ... clothes." She hung her head for a moment; "What am I going to do?"
"For the moment, sit here and catch your breath. Have some coffee and I'll make us some eggs and toast; it's almost time for me to get up any way. You can stay here until your insurance company makes other arrangements, I'm sure they'll get right on it. Do you know who they are? We can call them now and get the process going."
"All of that is in my purse."
I studied her while I made breakfast. Oh, I'd seen her around the neighborhood, talked with her and her husband on occasion, but now in the morning light I had the time to really see her. Even disheveled and without makeup, you could see she was a handsome woman - not what some would call beautiful - but the sort that you were drawn to just the same. She looked to be in her forties, early probably. She had a lightly tanned face with a scattering of freckles over her nose and cheeks and small wrinkles at the corners of her lips. Brown hair with touches of red and a few gray ones mixed in over the top framed her face. When she looked up (and caught me looking) she gave me a slight smile, and little lines showed next to her gray eyes.
The doorbell rang as we were eating. A Fire Lieutenant asked if Ms. Ward was here, and I showed him to the kitchen and offered a cup of coffee, but he declined and just got to the business with Ashley.
Basically he wanted to know what happened - what she knew, what woke her.
She answered quietly but quickly and when they finished he asked if she had any questions.
"Just a couple: what do I do now? And my purse ... is there any chance we can find my purse?"
"Well ma'am, you'll have to find somewhere to stay, and of course notify your insurance carrier, as to your purse, what is it made of, and where would it be?"
"It's a leather bag, about twelve by eighteen inches. I left it on the vanity in my bedroom."
"I'll have someone look around. Where would your bedroom be in the house?"
"Left rear. There's a bathroom next to it."
Half an hour later a fireman was at the door with a very dirty looking handbag.
I spread newspaper on the table, and she put it down. Remarkably (or maybe not - it was leather) the contents were in good shape. A little water had gotten on a few things, but her wallet was undamaged - hell, even her phone worked.
She called the insurance company and they said they'd send out an adjuster later in the day and asked where she would be. She looked up at me, asking; "Where will I be when they come to the house?"
"Tell them you'll be here. It'll be easier to find you."
The next order of business was clothes - she didn't have anything but what she was wearing. I studied her again and then offered; "Well, my clothes won't fit you, but maybe we can find something to at least get you to a store. That is if you want to; maybe there's someone you would rather call. By the way, what about your husband? Is he away? Shouldn't you be calling him?"
"Jim? No, I won't be calling him. We divorced last year. I thought everyone around here knew that."
"Not me, but then I'm not part of the gossip circuit. Can I ask what happened?"
"Basically, he lost his job." She sighed and then added; "Truth be told - he lost his job because he was having an affair with one of the women in his office. Who just happened to be the boss's girlfriend. The boss kept the tramp and fired Jim. When I found out I kicked him out and filed. He didn't contest it and now he's in Dallas. I hope for his sake he keeps his zipper shut because he's getting too old to be fired again."
"What about you? What have you been doing since the divorce?"
"Just working at the VA. It's great therapy when you can throw yourself into helping others. You tend to forget your own problems - at least for a while. Which reminds me - I need to call in - tell them I'll be out for a couple days while I get this all sorted. I have plenty of personal time coming."
"Where do you work?"
"VA-I'm a counselor out there. Mostly I let the vets talk, but if there is something they need I help them contact the right people."
"Sounds important."
"I don't know about that, but every once in a while it feels like I made a difference for one of those guys. Then again-other days I feel like I did nothing at all."
We went to my closet and she found some jeans and a flannel shirt. I went back to the kitchen while she changed, and had just about finished the dishes when I heard an "Ahum!' behind me. She was standing in the doorway, one hand up on the jamb, the other on her hip in an exaggerated model's pose. "Well, do you think this will work?"
"I have to admit; I never looked so good in that shirt."
"Thank you sir. Compliments are always welcome. Even if they do stretch the truth a bit."
"I'm not the one stretching anything ..." Yeah ... at that point my brain went into dumb, and I couldn't think of anything to say. Well I did - but my tongue wouldn't work. Maybe she didn't have the waist I had, but her hips were stretching those pants pretty good. I turned back and poured another cup of coffee.
"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?
"I told you I was old. Not as quick with the repartee as I once was."
"Well you may have some gray hair, but you saved me this morning. If you hadn't brought me in ... I might still be standing on the lawn."
"Nonsense! I'm sure any of the other neighbors would have helped."
"Not the married ones. The women are leery of having a divorcee near their husbands, and the men are scared of being seen alone with me."
"That's almost funny. When I had my divorce, the women kept trying to match me up with their single friends. And the men kept telling me the truth about them. You'll notice after a while they stopped trying."
"Why did you break up?"
"Well ..."
"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. We're just talking to pass the time."
"It's kind of hard for me to say. Not because I don't want to talk about it, but I still don't understand all of it. Things were going along pretty good, I thought, and one day she says she's not happy and want's a divorce."
"How long had you been married?"
"Over twenty two years. She said she felt there was more for her than being married to me. I thought she was happy. Shows how much I know. I guess the signs were there for quite a while and I wasn't paying attention. She wanted me to move out, but I fought that - I'd been buying the house when I met her, and there was no way I'd give it up without a fight. We didn't have any kids, and the judge agreed with me. I did have to pay alimony for five years, but after that we were done."
"What happened to her?"
"Damned if I know or care. I'd send the checks to a post office box in San Francisco, never hear a word, just see they'd been cashed."
"What about you? What did you do?"
"Went to work, came home, mowed the lawn, worked on my truck. Rinse, repeat."
"That's it? You didn't wonder why?"
"Sure. But to understand something you need information, and I didn't have enough. I'd puzzle on it while I was mowing or wrenching, but after a year or so I gave up. While we were married she'd talk about wanting to paint or dance or other things. Since we didn't have kids, and I made good money, I paid for any classes she wanted. She'd go for a while - jazz dance lasted three weeks - then go to something else. She took up cooking - chef stuff - that lasted almost a year, and then one day she just quit. Meals at home never changed, same thing before, during and after."
We sat quietly for a while, just sipping our coffee. Every now and then I'd catch her studying me, but she wouldn't drop her eyes - just kept looking at me. It wasn't eerie or anything, she'd just look at me. Like she was studying my soul.
The knock on the door broke the mood, and when I answered the Lieutenant asked me to pass on that they were wrapping up. One truck would stay - watching for hot spots - but basically they were done.
We watched them drive away, leaving a pile of blackened wood and ash. A small spiral of smoke (or maybe steam) rose from one corner of the mess. A fireman pawed at it with an axe and then sprayed water. Her car sat safely in its garage, but the driveway was blocked.
