FIRE

FIRE   By Tessa Harvey     Polly smiled warmly as she dismissed her last class on Friday afternoon. The students went out, clattering and banging, talking noisily.     After class was her weekly Bible Lesson. This had been allowed, provided Polly followed certain guidelines and another member of staff was present.     Only one child, Ellie stayed today. Soon Mrs. Bird came hustling up the corridor from the office. "Only one chicken today!" she laughed pleasantly. "Mind if I fill in some reports?" The heavy set woman settled herself audibly.     "Sure," Polly answered. "I want to know if God answers prayer if you are bad," Ellie began twisting her fingers nervously. She glanced at Mrs. Bird, a little embarrassed, but the latter was seemingly totally engrossed in her paperwork.     "God always answers prayer, Ellie," Polly replied. "It doesn't matter who you are or how you feel. God is Love and everyone matters to Him. Always....

FIRE  By Tessa Harvey     My mind struggles and I think it will be better to stand up, then remember a school poster in our hallway. A small dark-haired kid, like a cartoon kid is crawling, looking scared. The writing advises crawling is better to keep lower than the smoke if there is fire.     Desperately I try to pray but a nasty inner voice says I can't because I failed my family. I did not keep watch but fell asleep.     Where are they? Then a small voice is calling. "Ellie, Ellie, please answer if you can, Ellie!" It is my little brother, Sean. "Sean, please keep calling. I can't see the way out. God is helping me anyway." Sean keeps calling, sounding less anxious, more hopeful. I scurry, coughing, towards his voice. Flames are bursting out around me. I am so hot, like burning. My knees hurt so I half-stand. Then I see the way out and run, coughing.      Poor Sean is nearly knocked over. We hug each other, moving away from the barn....

FIRE  By Tessa Harvey     My sister Elise has invited a friend, Gemma. Only Elise knew she was autistic, but only told us as we were entering the Sports Complex. "Gemma doesn't like noise and crowds and she doesn't climb, but she'll be fine." But Elise is nervous.     A teacher at school has been teaching us about prayer and God. So, I pray and Gemma is fine, even climbing up high!     In my dream we are all sat at a table in one of the Sports Centre party rooms. Elise or Gemma drop a piece of cake by mistake. They cannot pick it up. It keeps slipping through their fingers.     They start giggling and then cannot stop. In my dream, we are all smiling or laughing and mum clears up the cake mess.     Then the happy noise turns to crackling and I wake up. Smoke is everywhere. Fire somewhere. I have failed my family. Where are they? Panicked, I missed my footing. That is how I fall. I try to crawl, but cannot find the way out.

FIRE   By Tessa Harvey     It is early evening. Dad comes out of our back door. He stands there in his grey shirt and baggy trousers. Today he is wearing his old braces. He pulls at the left one, then the right and lets go. Both red plaids, braces twang back into position.     "Ok, up there, Ellie," he yells in my direction.     "All clear dad," I answer loudly, feeling proud, perched up in the hay loft. There is one grimy window.     No fires have been reported near us, but it is harvest time and dad is worried. At eleven years old, I am entrusted to do the first watch. Dad goes inside.     Pools of yellow from the window puddle the ground. Baby Joe is yelling for his supper.     Stars are beginning to appear like silver sparkles glittering in the shiny sky. It is so peaceful. I lean forward on an old musty haybale and begin to dream. It is Eddy's birthday. We have been climbing and bouncing at a Sports Centre in town.

F I R E   By Tessa Harvey     I am lying on a very hard floor and I cannot breathe. Nothing coming into my lungs - nothing going out. Spots dance before my eyes. There is some grey stuff swirling around which is not helping me to breathe. Beyond that, it is dark. Black. I panic.     A small memory comes to me. Buddy and I are laughing about some joke. Dad next door is yelling "Be quiet!" It is early morning.     Suddenly, in the middle of us laughing, my brother yanks my arm to be funny. As it is unexpected, I lose my balance on top bunk and hurtle past Buddy and hit the floor so hard my parents come running at the loud bang.     Dad strokes my stomach. "Puff," he commands, "now puff in a little bit...slowly."     I am winded then - and now, so I try to follow the same instructions. Air is sucked in and I almost can breathe - and remember.