This too, shall pass.

Saturday, June 13, 2009 2:30am.

He smells smoke.

Companion bolts out of bed only to come running back screaming "Fire! Get the kids!"

I jump out of bed.

We collide in the doorway.

Jaysen's room is right across the hall.

I am at his bed in a half a heartbeat.

"Jaysen! Get up! Jaysen!" as I shake him vigourously.

He sleeps.

In Rylan's room in another half a heartbeat.

Rylan's still small enough- I whisk him up and throw him over my left arm.

Bolt into Jaysen's room again.

Still asleep.

"Jaysen! Jaysen!" my attempt at arousal is vigorous, approaching the verge of almost violent.

"Jaysen! Get up!"

I loop my arm under his, and grip him around the shoulder.

I whip him out of bed and onto the hardwood floor.

He's up.

Rylan still over my arm, Jaysen in my grip by the arm, I run.

Down the hall, around the corner-

I can feel the heat as we enter the living room.

Front door.

I don't remember our approach to the door, or even opening it for that matter.

I just know that we're outside.

Still running, we don't stop until we're at the street.

I turn around and Companion has joined us.

We're safe. All of us.

Tiki...

Companion rushes back to the house and props the door open in hopes our family cat will make a break for it.

I'm in shock.

I am helpless as my field of vision is filled with fire.

Ohmigod. That's my house.

There's a fire in my house.

My house is on fire.

No matter how many times, or different ways I say it, I am still in disbelief.

Rylan is shaking.

He is looking at the fire crying "turn it off! Turn it off! Want go back to bed!"

I calmly tell him the firemen will come and turn it off.

Jaysen is frightened. "My tapes!"

Although he is frozen in shock and fear, he knows we can't retrieve his most beloved posessions.

What is taking the fire department so long?

Neighbors start to emerge from their houses. I cannot see them, but I am surrounded by arms of concerned people, asking me things I can't quite comprehend yet.

Yes, everyone make it out. Yes, my parents are on their way to get the kids. Yes, we called 911. Twice. No, I don't know where the fucking fire department is. Oh. you called too? So did you?

Where is the effing fire department???

The blaze quickly spreads throughout the house. It starts to lap at our cars parked in the driveway.

In a matter of seconds, I can hear popping. Windows. A bigger pop. Windshield. More popping. Tires. Until there was a boom. My car. Ohmigod, that was my car that just exploded.

Companion's car is attacked next. It is not spared.

Firetrucks flood the street. Finally.

A neighbor comments it took over 15 minutes for them to get there.

We watch as the teams attempt to quench the flames.

It doesn't seem to be working.

The fire inspector has questions. Lots and lots of questions.

They found our cat, Tiki. He didn't survive.

My knees buckle.

They can't get the fire out because there are three roofs.

Three roofs?

Apparently, before I bought the house, in an effort to make the roof uniform, they re-shingled over the whole roof each time they added on an addition. Garage was the first addition, then the sun room. Add that to the original house, and you have three layers.

Three layers which trapped the fire and created smoldering embers that kept restarting.

The trapped fire tears through the attic and collapses the ceiling.

Approximately fourteen hours later, the fire is out.

My car-

View of my greenhouse from the garage-

Kitchen- note my beloved coffee pot on the left *sniff*

Living room

Our Tiki...

We love you and miss you very much.