FIRE!

FIRE!

I slept and woke to extreme heat!
The smoke choked me. Would I die
at the tender age of 11? People
outside screamed, “FIRE! FIRE!”

We had no smoke detectors. Six of us
lived in the house! The smoke was so
thick I couldn’t see my sister’s bed.
Smoke usually kills fire victims.

Before they get cooked “crispy.”

Mom was always drunk. Or high. She
smoked and often passed out. Was
she the cause? Was she alive? The
others…were my younger siblings.

We had just moved in here.
Our Aunt had evicted us.
Lenny was hiding in Florida.
We were dead broke!

Now we might be dead! I don’t
remember the first fire…when I
was a tiny baby. Mom had left me
home alone. A usual thing for her.

Neighbors saved me.
Mom was found at a bar.
BIG SURPRISE, RIGHT?
My father was at work.

I sort of remember the second fire.
I was six and my sister was four.
Our bedroom burst into flames…
a defective rigged space heater!

My sister was mildly burned…
…her arm was beet red.
We moved to Pennsylvania…
so mom didn’t go to jail.

She wasn’t home that time either!
My sister healed and after another
eviction…we moved back to Buffalo.
Fires are scary as shit!

Another fire happened when
I was in foster care. I never
got the full story. Three versions…
Bo & matches, Sissy & candles…

Mom & cigarettes – most likely.

I rolled off my blanket…no beds again…
My sister wasn’t on hers. No one was
in the bathroom.  No Bo, Mom, Sissy or
Paige! Just soon to be crispy Paula!

I opened my window to cool fresh air!
I saw people gathered and I climbed
out and walked toward them.  Sirens in
the distance. I saw my entire family.  

I heard whispers…Bo: “Look, Paula!
She’s not dead!” Sissy: “Momma! You
said she was dead and to leave her
body!” Mom: “Shit!” Nasty Paige:

“Can we toss her back in?”