Our Great Fire

Our Great Fire

By J.L. Scipio

It was 1772 on a warm windy day. I ran out the door as fast as I could. She left me a note in our usual place that read “Meet me at our spot at sunset”. We found our spot playing hide and seek. I was looking for her for a whole day until she yelled for me on top of the roof. She found a way to get up there and ever since we would go up there and talk about anything and everything. 

When I got up there she asked “Did you ever learn about the Great Fire of London? 100 years ago this city dealt with the devil. He came with flames that nobody could stop.”

“No, I haven’t.’ I said, staring at her. ‘In America we don’t really learn things about other countries.”

My father brought me and my mother out here for a dream. He said he felt that the American Dream isn’t real. He wanted to be a novelist and somehow believed London was the secret ticket to fame. Unfortunately he’s spent years out here and works in a warehouse to get by. Now he spends his days drinking and looking at blank pieces of paper. 

“My mother said it was probably started by a baker’s stove hitting a pan of oil. Nobody really knows though. If you ask me, a fire like that has to be on purpose.”

I looked at Ariel with curiosity. There was a hot breeze in the air and the sunset colored the sky with vibrant soothing colors. We were two kids on a roof with nothing to do but daydream.

“When a fire like that happens, there are two types of people. The ones that fight it and the ones that run away from it. The bigger the fire, the more run away. I believe life is like that. Sometimes people can feel a fire inside themselves. The bigger it is, the more likely they will run from it.” She looked at me. “Have you ever run away from a fire?”

At this point I was completely engrossed in what Ariel was saying. Something in me was stirring and I wasn’t quite sure what it was. Ariel always seemed to have a vision on how the world is. I used to watch her pace on the sidewalk, focused on whatever she was thinking. I was happy I could be there to listen. Ariel stood up with her arms crossed behind her head. Eyes looking across the city as if she was looking for something to do.

“I want to start a fire. Will you come with me?”

I knew undoubtedly that I would follow her anywhere and back.

“Let’s go.” I told her with a big grin on my face.

Ariel snuck some oil from her fathers closet a couple of nights ago. The weather reminded her of what her mother told her of the night of the Great Fire. When we came to the front door of her house she asked me to follow her to her fathers room. Her mother was sleeping in the chair with something in her cup that was smelly. The walls had stains that had been there for too long and fog hugged the windows. We snuck past her to the room and there was oil near his lamp he would use to keep it lit. She motioned for me to take it. I knew stealing was bad, but I trusted for one reason or another. I felt like she understood me as I understood her. We were both angry for reasons we didn’t yet understand.

“My father never comes home late at night. He says it's work. Sometimes I see him with other women. I wonder what he does. I tried asking him, but he just tells me that I need to worry more about cleaning, cooking and all the boring stuff.”

We snuck back out and walked to the church across town. It was getting late and everybody was settling down in their homes. We approached the church and stopped with the oil in my hands.

“The priests here are bad men. Did you know that?” Ariel frowned as she asked Syn.

I had an even deeper frown and agreed with her. It was something neither of us wanted to talk about. All I really knew was that the devil lives there and I didn’t like him. It was late night at this point and nobody to their knowledge was in the church. We began to pour the oil on the walls around the church. We began laughing as if they were playing in my family's garden like we used. As they circled and danced around the church they stopped in front the statue of Virgin Mary in the back.

“Have you met, Mary?” Ariel, still staring at the statue, asked.

“The Virgin Mary? I don’t think I ever-”

“No silly, Mary Wollstonecraft. She lives down the street from us. She’s about our age.”

“I think I’ve said hi a time or two. Why do you ask?” He was curious.

“We talk sometimes. She says she doesn’t understand why only her daddy works. She thinks girls like me and her can do so much more if we were given a chance. What do you think of that?”

“My father doesn’t think so, but I can see you doing anything. Sometimes my mother looks so bored. I wonder if she would rather be doing something else.”

“I like that. I’ve also heard Mary’s father is a bad man.”

“I don’t like bad men.”

“Me neither, Syd.”

We stood behind the church with the heat on our faces. As we watched the church burn I grabbed her hand. I felt the intensity of it all and for once I didn’t feel like running away. We couldn’t take our eyes away from the scene. We started laughing until we heard people coming our way. We ran with a smile on our face and no thought about how the future will be. We were happy, like how we’re supposed to be.