All Is Lost

1

He knew that all was lost the minute he topped the hill and saw the billowing cloud of angry, black smoke spewing from the frame structure. His belly sank to his ankles with the sudden drop of a leaded weight pushed over a cliff.

Gone.

All gone.

He would have loved to have gotten out of the car and screamed like a mad man, stomping the earth like a spoiled child throwing a tantrum, but the fire engine had already arrived, and he knew some of the volunteer crew.

He would not lose face like that and embarrass himself in front of the other men. Besides, he doubted that such behavior would make him feel any better.

What good would it do? 

It wouldn't change anything. Probably just push him beyond the point of exhaustion. But come to think of it, he'd passed that marker days ago.

He watched the scene unfold with a dumb look on his face. Disbelief washed over him like waves of nausea. His skin was sickly. Gray.

"You alright, Gar?" one of the men asked.

It was Red Evans, a volunteer on the county rescue squad. They'd ridden the same bus together to high school years ago.

"I feel like a dead man. Where's Biddy? Did she get out? How'd it start?" Gar asked flatly.

"Yeah. She's fine. Somebody took her to the ER to be checked out. Mad as an old wet hen. Didn't want to leave. Kept tellin' us that she was fine 'n didn't need some snot-nose young resident just outta med school tellin' her what was as plain at the nose on her face.

She was fine. Just a little char and smoke. Nothin' fatal. Nothin' serious. Just leave her be, and stay out of her business.

She did not want to ride in an ambulance. Such a spectacle, she said. Sirens. Lights. No sir. She was just fine, thank you very much. And that was that. She didn't want to hear another word from any of us whipper-snappers."

Red chuckled.

"She put up a real ruckus. But we made her go get checked out anyway."

Something caught Red's attention, but he quickly turned his attention to his friend.

"I'll tell you, Gar, the old gal's as feisty as ever. She hasn't had none of her spirit burned out, if that's what you're worried about. Singed a bit around her pin feathers, but otherwise that old bird will outlive us all."

Gar looked visibly relieved. His grandmother was frail and elderly, but she still had enough spark left to. . . to what? Burn the whole house down? Destroy everything?

"About how the fire started," Red continued, interrupting Gar's thoughts, "nobody knows. Haven't had a chance to poke around. Right now, we're just trying to get it out. We'll have to wait and see what the chief says. Got to get the darn thing out first. House is a tinderbox. Full of junk, papers, and all kinds of stuff. You never told me your grandma was such a pack rat."

"One of the best, I guess. Were they able to save anything?" Gar asked.

"Nah. No one's had a chance to go back in after they got Biddy out. The place is an inferno right now. Don't expect to find much of anything except soot and ashes."

If Red had been looking at Gar instead of the blaze, he would have seen the shrinking, sick look that passed over his friend's face. As it was, the orange glow reflected off Red's eyes, flickering little rays of light that could have originated in hell.