Where There is Smoke

By the time I stepped outside, the leaves were on fire. The crackling sound is what first caught my attention, as I was kicked back in my easy chair, watching TV. The dry leaves burned quickly, snapping sparks flew all directions and rapidly burned the surrounding grass.

Leaves blew up and spun in the air as they blackened to ash. The grass wilted as hot embers landed and hissed.

I uncoiled the hose, getting it tangled and kinked in my haste, then I wasted precious seconds that seemed like hours, getting it straightened out.

I usually like the woodsy smell of burning leaves, and campfires with burning branches, but in this setting, I'm keen out putting them out before the fire spreads any further. I finally get the hose uncoiled and I crank the knob all the way open and blast the flames with cold water, putting it out and causing an explosion of soaked leaves that flies everywhere. I hear my six year old daughter clapping wildly in the opening of the sliding glass door behind me. "Yaaay! Do it again, Daddy!"

"No, sweetie, fire is dangerous, I'm not going to do it again."

"Aww! But why?"

"Because fire is dangerous, sweetie."

I take the rake and spread out the pile of leaves and douse the few embers that are still burning. I notice something in a burned patch of grass and bend down for a closer look. When I realize what it is, I snatch it up, and spin around and march up the stairs to my teenage son's room. I pound on the door and throw it open without waiting for a response. My son is lying on his bed flipping through a magazine. When I burst in, he jumps up, looking startled, then his expression quickly changes to one of anger at the invasion of his privacy. I don't care.

"Mark, give me the cigarettes!" I shout.

"What cigarettes?" Mark asks, doing his best to look innocent.

I hold up my evidence, a half-smoked, sodden cigarette, and shake it in his direction. "This one, that almost burned our yard, and the house too, If I hadn't noticed the nasty smell of burning leaves!"

He looks at the cigarette in my fingers and crosses his arms over his chest.

"Hand them over or so help me, I will tear this room apart."

Mark sighs and rolls his eyes. "Fine. Here." He pulls a rumbled, half-empty pack of Morley's out from under his mattress and with a look of disgust flung in my direction, hands them to me. 

I walk back downstairs and out onto the back porch, quietly closing the sliding door behind me, but leaving it open a crack. I quickly look around to make sure no one is watching, and I tap one of the Morley's out of the pack and light it with the Zippo in my pocket. I pull a long drag into my lungs, and close my eyes, enjoying the nicotine rush. I quit six months ago, so my body welcomes the nicotine it has been craving. I let out an arrow of smoke into the crisp evening sir.

"Whatcha doing daddy?" My six year old daughter, Kellie asks, standing right in front of me. I jump, startled, as she seemed to appear out of nowhere; I didn't hear her open the back door.

"Oh nothing, sweetie."

"You was 'moking. That stinks." Kellie wrinkled up her cute little nose and pointed at the cigarette. Feeling ashamed, I bend down and press the cigarette into the concrete, extinguishing it. "It does stink, you're right. Why don't you get ready for bed, I will be up soon to tuck you in and read you a story.

"Ok daddy." She goes in and closes the glass door behind her. I ruefully tuck the cigarette back into the pack with the rest and pocket it. I grab the rake and scrape the leaves back into a pile. I will bag them up tomorrow, hopefully I can get Mark to help me. I lean the rake against the house. I frown as I notice that Kellie has closed the sliding door all the way. I tug the handle, but the door doesn't budge. I tug harder. Nothing. Installing an automatic lock seemed like a good idea at the time, but right now I could kick myself for it.

I knock on the door as hard as I can, knowing it is pointless. Kellie probably has her bath water running and Mark usually goes to sleep with headphones phones on. I sigh and go to get the ladder from the shed. I only hope one of the second floor windows is unlocked, else I will be sleeping in the car tonight.

I tugged the heavy ladder over and leaned it against the back of the house. I was beginning to get really cold in just a tee shirt and jeans. I hadn't had time to put shoes on, so my formerly white socks were now soaked and covered with grass clippings, which made it slippery and precarious to slowly make my way up the ladder.

I walked along the sloping roof slowly, crouched low to maintain my balance. I passed by the bathroom window, I didn't want to scare Kellie by knocking on the window while she was taking her bath, and aimed for Mark's bedroom window. I had to rap on the glass until he finally heard me and rolled towards the window, looking alarmed. When he realized it was me, he got out of bed and sauntered over to the window, wearing an amused smirk. He slid the sash up, and then struggled to open the screen. "Weird place to take an evening stroll, dad."

"Very funny. I got locked out." I replied, as he pushed up the protesting screen and stepped back so I could climb inside. "Thanks." I told him, as I peeled off my socks to avoid soiling the carpet.

"Good night, Mark." I ignored his chuckling behind me.