Fire
The sky had turned black. Dirty black. An ominous red glow close to the horizon warned of imminent danger. A scattering of birds flew through the trees propelled by the ferocity of the wind. Ash was already collecting in the lee of her house, away from the wind. The strong acrid stench of smoke was pervasive.
I could smell it on her now as she sat in my house, subdued, in shock. I had collected her from Central. She had said nothing on the trip home. Now in the safety of my house she was at last able to give voice to the open wounds of her experience.
She had moved to the mountains ten years ago and had never experienced anything like these conditions. All afternoon she had sensed a disaster. It was a searingly hot day. The leaves of the vines on the fence were wilted and scorched. The grass was dry from weeks of no rain. She had listened to the radio warning residents to put their fire plans into action. She had tested the solar generator and set it going so if there was a blackout the pump would keep functioning. The house was built to withstand fire, no gaps under the eaves, thickened glass in the windows, sprinklers on the roof and more sprinklers strategically placed in the bush. She had plugged the downpipes and filled the gutters with water. Everything was in place.
Suddenly she was startled to see the smoke billowing through the trees. The deafening roar of the fire was terrifying as it raced up to her out of the valley. A gigantic ball of flames was catapulted across the tops of the trees.
She had to leave immediately.
She ran to the car, dodging falling embers, blinded by the smoke. She turned on the headlights and drove, panic-stricken. Black smoke enveloped her on all sides. The bush grew right up to the edge of the narrow dirt track. Burning embers fell from the sky starting random fires. Trees were burning beside her.
Blocked by a fallen tree she was forced to abandon the car. Frantically she dragged the blanket out of the car, draped it over her head and ran. She could feel the scorching heat of the ash and burning embers through her shoes. The blast furnace on her face and arms threatened to consume her. She was alone, fighting for her life, willing herself to keep going.
Exhausted, she stumbled in to the fire station. She slumped against the wall, numbed and frightened, cowed by the horror outside.
I could feel her terror return as she remembered. She was weeping silently, reminded of the devastation. In a few days I would drive her back to the mountains. She needed to be there again, to walk through the charred remains, to mourn the dead. But not yet; the memories were still too raw.
Kerry MacAulay
22/2/09
3 comments:
Jenny says:
Vivid descriptions, Kerry - they create great visuals as I read them.
I had trouble knowing where I was - the first paragraph mentions ash building up "in the lee of her house", but the second paragraph has the narrator referring to "my house", so then I was left wondering how they knew what the ash was doing.
I was carried along by your description of her flight - I think this story might actually have worked really well in the third person.
Thanks Jenny. I don't just see how to make amendments to the blog this morning but try this alternative opening sentence.
"She remembered how the sky had turned black."
Kerry
Heather says:
You hooked me on your simple sentence: “Dirty black” and nailed me solid on “I could smell it on her.”
I though it was a perfect response to the spirit of the prompt: a detailed description of her experience. I was swept along with the great balance of action, feeling and description. “She was alone, fighting for her life, willing herself to keep going.” “…give voice to the open wounds of her experience” – so emotionally evocative.
I thought you handled the tricky question of dialogue and voices beautifully.
The transition from the first paragraph to the second momentarily confusing. How about something like: “I could smell it on her now as she sat in my house, subdued, in shock, and telling her story.”
Stumbling into the fire station felt a bit too convenient – maybe into the arms of a firie or a cinder block toilet at the edge of the park or something.
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