Fire
in Humansville
by Jim Bumgarner
A pyromaniac shows his stuff to
a horny chick (R rated, language, sexual content,
violence, and a few dirty words)
Humansville, pop:
345.
Tom Tucker, 24, walked through town
the night the Roxie Theatre burned. Three people saw
him. He was short, almost dwarfish, with a pear-shaped
head and orange hair. In his pocket he carried an
unlit flare.
Sondra Redman, 20, watched him coming
toward her on the sidewalk.
“Hi, I'm Sondra, can I walk with
you?”
“Sure.”
Hooking her arm in his, they walked
down the dark sidewalk. She told him how delectable
she thought parts of him might be. Tom didn’t
say anything, just kept walking. Sondra put her arm
around Tom, and pulled him into her. He looked beyond
her, toward the Roxie. Smoke was beginning to sneak
out the upstairs windows.
Tom said, “I can’t do this.”
“Sure you can.”
“How do you know?”
“I can feel your erection.”
Tom pulled away; his fingers lightly
felt the outline of the flare.
"I gotta go," he said and
walked on alone.
“You fucker,” Sondra yelled.
Tom disappeared into the darkness, and
circled back around the block, toward the Roxie.
He could smell the smoke; his heart
leaped when he saw the flashing lights. He jumped
in secretive joy.
From the shadows in the yard nearby,
Billy Smithson, 10, watched Tom. Saw him jumping.
“Hey,” Billy yelled.
Frightened by the shout, Tom crouched,
and peered into the darkness. Seeing no one, but uncomfortable,
he ran across the street.
“Hey,” Billy yelled again.
“What’re you doing?”
Tom walked down the sidewalk and around
the corner where the voice would leave him alone;
where he could get a better view of the fire.
Billy stalked him.
Joy filled Tom: such a wonderful fire.
He couldn’t keep his feet on the ground. He rubbed
himself while he watched the flames light the night
sky; it felt good. He thought he saw Sondra across
the street.
Stewart Manchuck, soaked from the water
canon and perspiration, worked the fire truck’s
gauges and valves. Tom touched his pant leg. “Hey,
mister. What do you think, two or three alarm?”
Manchuck looked down at Tom. “Looks
like a three.” He thought it odd the smile on
this little guy’s face. “It’s the only
theatre in town, you know,” Manchuck said, tilting
his head toward the fire.
“Yeah,” replied Tom, the fire
sparkling in his eyes. He glanced up and made eye
contact with Manchuck. The smile disappeared. “I
mean, yeah, it’s awful ain’t it?” Tom
walked back across the street. Manchuck watched him
for a few seconds then returned his attention to the
truck’s brassy knobs and guages.
Slowly and silently Sondra walked up
behind Tom. “Hey,” she whispered in his
ear. “Wanna try again?” The blaze, the smoke,
the firemen, the ambience were creating heat in Sondra
in places she liked. She put her arm in his, “C’mon,
I know a place down the street.”
Tom followed her. Billy followed them.
They ducked into an unlocked car in
the alley. Billy watched from the shadows. He noticed
the flames reflecting off the car’s windshield,
then he realized it wasn’t a reflection. The
car burst into flames.
