Elizabeth Wood

Dr. Margaret Mitchell

ENGL 3200-1HW

November 12, 2008

                                                        House of Flames

     The summer I was fourteen we lived in a shotgun house, three rooms long and two wide, on a little side street in Salem, Virginia. My dad had been working for the railroad as a brakeman for the last few years and we had just moved down off the mountain the summer before. The new house faced east and the early sun came in through the open front door every morning and for a brief time we walked our solitary just waking paths inside orange flames that poured straight through from the front door to the kitchen at the back of the house. It was just me, my sister and our father, who’d been raising us on his own since our mother had left when we were small. She’d show up in our lives every so often, whenever she got it in her head to try being a mama again. Of course whenever that became inconvenient to her she would send us back to our dad. When we were young work was scarce for daddy and we moved around a lot, until he landed the job with the railroad. By then we were a little older and he could leave us alone for a few days at a time, otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to get that job. He ended up with a regular run, three days from Roanoke to Bristol and back again. Today was the first day of one of these runs, and after packing his pimento cheese sandwiches dad hugged me as he headed out the door.

     “All right peanut, you and Katherine be good while I’m gone.”

      “We will, Dad, love you.”

      “Love you, too, peanut”

      Katherine was still sleeping and I inhabited the house of flames in solitude. I wandered slowly out of the front room that was dad’s office, where the bookshelves along one wall were all about the civil war and Russian history, much too dry for my immature imagination. The living room bookshelf was much more to my taste, novels and short story collections. I allowed my fingers to move lightly over the titles there pausing on favorites, To Kill a Mockingbird, Catcher in the Rye. When nothing caught my imagination I moved into the kitchen to see what there was to eat. I could ride my bike to the library later, but they didn’t open until ten and I would have to find a way to occupy myself until then. I got myself a bowl of cheerios and milk, dumped sugar on them and headed into the living room again. I flipped the channel on the television until I got to cartoons and settled in to watch Bugs foil Marvin the Martian’s latest plans to blow up the Earth. After an hour or so Katherine shuffled into the room and gave me her usual early morning dirty look before locking herself in the bathroom. I never said much to her when she first got up, she was always in a foul mood until she had girled herself up enough to make her happy. This process could take more than an hour of showering, scrubbing, curling and painting. When she came back through the living room, dripping and towel clad, and headed back to her room I unfolded myself from the sofa and went through the kitchen and out the back door. Our yard was small, but dad kept it neat. We had a garden full of tomatoes and jalapeno peppers. My favorite thing in the summer was those tomatoes, huge and red, still warm from the sunshine. I would eat them like apples. Katherine called to me from the house.

     “Alice, come here, I’ve got something for you.”

      “Okay, I’m coming.”

     When I got inside she was already back in her room, so I followed her. She was pulling clothes out of her closet, and she had a little pile forming on the edge of her bed. I looked around her room, it was her personal space and I was rarely invited in. She had a twin bed like mine, only hers was covered in a pink comforter with a flower design, while mine had a thick fuzzy brown blanket. Our rooms were joined by a door, but this was usually kept locked from her side. I looked at the posters on her wall, Duran Duran, The Bangles, and Madonna, along with a bunch of pictures of her and her friends pinned up with tacks.

     “Alice, I’ve got a bunch of clothes I don’t wear anymore. I thought you might like to have them.”

     “Okay, thanks.”

     “Here, sit down.”

     She pulled out the chair she kept in front of her dresser for me, and I sat down.

     “Why don’t you let me fix your hair and makeup for you? You could be really pretty with just a few touches.”

     I didn’t really believe that was true, but I didn’t have anything else to do. Besides it was kind of nice to have my sister paying attention to me. Usually she was busy with her friends and school. Pretty and popular, she always seemed to float effortlessly through life. She began to brush my hair and I couldn’t help but compare our reflections in the mirror. She was tall and a little skinny, too, but on her it seemed graceful. Her hair was darker than mine, a deep brown where mine was mousy and indistinct. Our eyes were the same blue-green, hers large and almond shaped, while mine looked smaller and a little washed out. I watched her curl my hair with her curling iron, she always looked so self assured, and I felt a little skip of joy to be related to her. Even though we didn’t spend a lot of time together now, she had always been a good sister. When we were little we used to sleep outside on a screened in porch in the summer. We would lie side by side in our sleeping bags telling each other stories until late at night. My favorite story that Katherine used to tell was about two princesses who went on adventures together. The princesses, sisters and best friends, always saved the day, but they never slew the dragon. Instead they befriended him, and he was their favorite playmate forever after. Now that we were older she had her own friends, and we didn’t see each other as much. Usually our days were spent in separate pursuits, but late at night, when her friends had all gone home we would hang out in the living room. We’d watch late night television and talk until we got silly from lack of sleep, then we’d laugh hysterically about the craziest things. Once we had gotten little cotton dolls in our Easter baskets, and late that night, hopped up on chocolate we discovered that their arms were sewn to their dresses instead of their bodies. Katherine held up her little doll and snatched her dress off, announcing with glee “I can’t hurt you, I’m perfectly armless!!” I laughed until I thought I might wet myself.

     “What are you smiling about all of a sudden, Alice?”

      “Nothing, really, I was just thinking that you’re a pretty good sister.”

      “Well, you’re not too bad yourself, for a dweeb, now hold still while I do your face.”

      She swiveled the chair around to face her and started applying makeup to my face. After about twenty minutes of pursing my lips and closing my eyes one at a time at her direction she turned the chair back around.

     “Check it out, you clean up pretty good, girl.”

     I looked at my reflection again, startled by the difference. I looked like a smaller version of Katherine. It was almost as if I had disappeared.

     “Wow, that’s weird.”

     “You’re weird, little sister. Now go try on some of those clothes I gave you, you’re getting too old to go around looking like a boy. My friends are coming over later and you can hang out with us.”

    Normally it would have annoyed me to have her acting like she was doing me a favor by letting me hang out with her friends. But I knew she was reaching out to me, and even though I tried to pretend otherwise I really liked that she cared about me.

     It was around five when her friends started to show up. It had gotten oppressively hot outside, but Katherine’s best friend, Betsie never looked like the thick summer air affected her at all. She bounced through the door, giggling, with her hair and makeup perfectly in place.

     “Hey y’all, I’m so ready to party! Are Nicky and Jason going to be here later?”

     Nicky was Katherine’s boyfriend. He had long, brown, feathered hair, and was almost as pretty as the girls that swooned over him and his hopped up muscle car, a ’69 Camaro. I guessed that Betsie must have had her eye on his friend Jason, since she was barely through the door before she was asking about them. Katherine laughed at her.

     “Don’t worry, Betsie, Jason’s coming.”

      Betsie feigned shock and hurt, opening her eyes wide and dramatically placing her hand on her chest.

     “Now Katherine, who said I was asking about Jason, specifically?”

      They both dissolved into giggles again while I looked on, an observer of a foreign culture. When Betsie caught sight of me standing there, she looked me up and down and whistled.

     “My goodness, Alice, when did you go and get all grown up?”

      “I do good work, don’t I” Katherine said “She almost looks like a girl.”

      I shot her a dirty look and stuck out my tongue, which just set them off again.

     “Jeeesus, all y’all do is laugh like empty headed loons!”

      I would never admit out loud that Katherine had the power to hurt my feelings with her thoughtless comments, especially not in front of her silly friend. I left them laughing there in the front room, and headed for the kitchen, just wanting to be away from them. While I was getting something to drink from the refrigerator I could hear several more people showing up. Nicky and Jason had arrived with several others in tow, and the crowd moved to the living room. When I joined them there I could see that Nicky had managed to get a hold of some beer, and was already passing them around. Somebody handed me one, and I popped the top and took a swallow. I almost choked, I’d never had beer before and it was surprisingly nasty. Katherine turned on the stereo and Jason pulled out a deck of cards. Several people gathered around the coffee table and started playing poker, and Betsie made sure to sit close to Jason on the floor. I sipped at the beer and watched the game from one side. After a few more swallows I started to feel warm and relaxed. I could begin to see why the nasty taste didn’t stop people from drinking this stuff. I was thinking about how much I really liked Katherine’s friends when I realized I had finished the beer. I snagged another one from the floor beside the table, and popped it open. I sat on the floor to drink and enjoy the noise and conversation around me. Katherine slipped over and sat down beside me.

     “How are you doing, kiddo?”

      “Really, really good. I like your friends.”

      She grinned at me, and wrapped her arm around my shoulders.

     “I’m glad you’re having a good time, just go easy on the beer. I don’t want to have to hold your hair later.”

      “Thanks, Katherine, I’ll watch out.”

     She gave me a quick squeeze, and went back across the room to Nicky. The room was hazy with cigarette smoke and the mood was getting quieter. Couples were separating off from the group, and I saw Betsie and Jason head to the front porch together. I was glad that she’d gotten what she wanted. I started to feel a little uncomfortable and decided to move to the kitchen. I was sitting at the table when one of Nicky’s friends came in and grabbed a coke from the refrigerator.

     “Hey, there, what are you doing sitting in here by yourself?”

      “Nothing much, it was just a little busy in there for me.”

        He laughed and sat down beside me.

       “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

       We sat there silent for a few minutes, and then he pulled out a baggie full of pot.

       “Do you mind if I smoke?”

       “No, go ahead.”

       I watched the elaborate ritual he made out of rolling a joint, intrigued by the patterns of his fingers as he carefully measured out the green crumbles into the small white square of paper. He brought the assemblage up to his lips and darted his tongue out to lightly lick the edge of the paper, then twisted it up until it was wrapped tightly and sealed at both ends. Then he lit it up, drawing deeply on the homemade cigarette. The smell was weirdly appealing, and he watched me watching him smoke. After a couple more drags he held the lit joint out to me. I took it and attempted to imitate his deep calm pull. The smoke burned my lungs and I started choking and gasping. He took the lit joint out of my hand and patted me on the back until I caught my breath. He got me a glass of water and sat back down at the table. I took a drink, my eyes streaming.

     “Your first time, I take it?”

     I nodded, still a little too breathless to talk.

     “Why didn’t you say so?”

      “You didn’t ask.”

      He grinned at that and held the joint out again.

     “Want to try again?”

      I took it from him, and brought it back to my lips.

      “Just go slow, it takes a little getting used to.”

      I breathed the smoke in, a little slower this time, and managed to not choke myself. We passed the joint back and forth until it was too small to handle anymore. By this time I felt like I was floating a few inches off the chair, and the air was thick and odd. My body felt weirdly heavy, and the room had gotten blurry. He looked at me and smiled.

     “Would you like to go for a ride?”

      “Yeah, that’d be nice.”

      I got up and followed him through the house and out the front door. The air was shockingly cool compared to the inside of the house. He led me to a black car, and opened the passenger door for me. I sat down and he shut the door and climbed in the on the driver’s side. The engine turned over with a satisfying roar, and we pulled away. The car seemed to glide through the dark like an aquatic creature. There was no one else on the road, the whole world was silent and still in the depth of the night. I didn’t know where we were going, and it didn’t seem important at the time. We didn’t talk during the ride; I just watched the buildings slide away outside my window, until they were no more. The buildings passed into trees and the trees into the steep rock walls of the mountain as we ascended. I remembered then, where we were going. There was a park halfway up the mountainside, where people could park and look out over the valley. The view was amazing and there were picnic tables where tourists could have their lunch. We pulled in to the dirt parking area. He came around to my side of the car, opened the door and held out his hand to me. I took it and he helped me out of the car. The air was much cooler this far up the mountain and there was a light breeze. We walked over to the railing, past the picnic tables and looked down on the lights in the valley. It was like flying, up so high with the breeze blowing through my hair. I closed my eyes, held out my arms and leaned forward, spinning and wheeling. I felt his hands grab my waist.

     “Whoa, there, don’t lean too far out. I’d hate to lose you.”

      I threw back my head and laughed.

      “Lost!”

       He wrapped his arms around my waist and drew me away from the exhilarating edge. He propped me against the edge of a picnic table and leaned into my body. I looked up just in time to meet his eyes as he kissed me, and pushed me back onto the table. I wasn’t flying anymore, born down onto the tabletop as surely as the mountain bears down on the earth. I felt like I was becoming the table, the mountain, the earth, everything. I had no borders; I was disappearing, at once everything and nothing. Above me the sky was a cold blue-black dome scattered with brilliant points of white that almost spoke stories of their own. They spun and coalesced into almost discernible shapes, only to break free again. Spinning wildly and coming together, over and over. Almost . . . almost . . . I reached, trying to fling myself upward, to make those stories mine. I crashed back to earth, bound once more into myself, and he held me while I wept for the stories I couldn’t quite read. A long time later he helped me back into his car, and we glided silently back down the mountain. The trees outside my window gradually became buildings once again, and the world reset itself around me. We traveled, side by side, but not connected, each of us occupying our own silent space in the grey of pre-dawn. When we finally arrived he walked me to the porch of my cold empty house, and stood there awkwardly while I walked inside. I held my breath, invisible in the darkness and watched as he headed slowly back to his car. The sun burst into view, bathing the house in flames. I fled to my room and escaped the purifying light, burrowing under my soft brown blanket, and curling into a ball.