Burning Down the House

My parents had gone to the grocery store together and I was home with Wes - probably because I'm grounded - that was pretty much my life ages 12 - 18. On the other hand, I don't think Weston was EVER grounded. And, this was not because he was an angel. He was either a faster talker than me or it was an ineffective punishment for him, or who knows? Not that I'm bitter... No, really I'm not. Just because I'm still complaining about it 22 years later... Anyway, I'm really not sure how old we are - but would guess 15 and 8.

I'm sitting in my room playing "Everybody Wants to Rule the World" by Tears for Fears, and knowing that in fact I did rule... hanging out, reading a book, curling my hair, drawing hearts around boy-of-the-month's name, whatever it was I used to do (certainly not homework...) and then I spy the faintest hint of smoke curling up through the vent. Hmmm... bummer... like, that can't be good.

I sashay down to the kitchen - nothing. Grab a drink and a snack, turn on the TV and amble downstairs to the basement - nothing. But then I venture to the "unfinished" portion of the basement where the water heater and my dad's workshop is located. The door is closed. I open the door to dancing yellow flames and billows of charcoal smoke.

This awakens me from "I don't care" teenage land, I close the door and sprint up the stairs bumping into Wes who has just dashed in through the front door with the neighbor, both armed with fire extinguishers. The neighbor scampers downstairs to the fire and I call 911 and the grocery store to alert my parents to what Weston did - this time. Oh, my, gawd, can you believe this kid? Ruining my perfect afternoon. Yea, but what a great excuse for not getting my homeword done! Score.

After answering the page at the store, my father proceeds to leave my mother at the grocery store and drive home. Accident? I think not. In the meantime, the local fire engine, ambulance, police and water rescue have arrived on our doorstep. (Water rescue?? I know, I too was confused.)

It turns out Wes had been prepping decoys for hunting and was melting something with matches and somehow hunting clothes and gear caught fire. After receiving no response to his hollers (apparently I was rocking out) he wisely went to the neighbor for help.

Thankfully we all survived - mostly smoke damage to the basement and the neighbor's lungs, another grounding for me and an atta-boy for Wes for his quick thinking which mitigated the fire damage. Yes, I know, bitter, bitter.