My mind was blanker than it usually is as I drove down my street one fine spring day, heading home for lunch. As I drove, I noticed what I thought was a thundercloud but which I quickly perceived was smoke. Fires are blessedly rare in South Florida, so my attention was immediately piqued. “That’s a good sized fire,” I thought.
As I drove closer to my house the smoke got denser and, through my open car windows I got the first whiff of smoke, harsh and acrid. “That fire must be really close,” I thought as I rounded the bend and saw smoke billowing from the back bedroom of my house. A small crowd of neighbors, lawn men and assorted service people had gathered in the street, some pointing, some staring, a couple with their hands over their mouths.
If you ever want a shot of pure adrenaline, or a really good excuse to drop dead from a heart attack, driving down your street and seeing smoke billowing from your house is as good a way as any to accomplish either, if not both, of those goals.
I have to confess my first thought as I pulled into my driveway at warp speed was whether the dog was OK. I did not think about my computer or my mother’s china, or the dry cleaning that I had just picked up the day before. Neither, as my partner pointed out soon after, did I think about his safety or that of our cats. I knew my partner was off that day so I called home first, hoping that someone in the crowd of people gathered in the street had called 911. He answered on the second ring just as I heard a siren in the background, far away but getting closer.
“The house next door is on fire!” he yelled into the phone from the back bedroom where he was watching the fire. Looking back, there was really no need to yell because our house was really quite quiet.
I almost passed out from relief. “Not our house?” I asked.
“No,” he yelled back. “The house next door. It looks like their pool heater is on fire.”
This actually made sense; out neighbor’s pool heater is right near the property line adjacent to our back bedroom which would explain why it looked like smoke was pouring from our house. “Is the dog ok?” I asked.
“She’s right here,” he answered. “She’s fine.”
“Thank god,” I said. By this time I was out of my car and walking into the back yard which was thick with smoke. I started to cough wildly. The firemen had just arrived and had broken down the fence to get into the neighbor’s back yard which seemed overly dramatic since the fence had a latch and was not locked.
“Come into the house,” said my partner testily. “You’re going to die of smoke inhalation.”
“You’re sure the dog’s ok?” I asked again.
‘She’s fine,” he assured me. “So am I,” he added. “The cats too. If you care,” he added unkindly.
Since by now I was in the backyard I turned and looked up at the bedroom window to see the entire family watching the fire. The two cats were on the windowsill, the dog was standing with her paws on the windowsill and my partner, cell phone in hand was there too. I waved. My partner waved back and I could see the dog’s tail wagging wildly. The orange cat hissed softly at me and the black cat yawned. That’s when I saw my partner was on the phone.
“Who are you talking to at a time like this?” I asked him, forgetting that I had called him. I saw him roll his eyes. “Just come inside,” he said, and hung up.
The firemen had the fire out in a flash, right around the time our neighbor got home and, ashen, walked into her backyard to survey the damage. I was eavesdropping and heard that the motor of the old pool heater had corroded and started the fire. The dense smoke was the result of some plastic patio furniture that had ignited.
The back yard smelled smoky for several hours but thankfully we had no residual effects. “That could have been exciting,” my partner said later as we started imagining all the worst case scenarios. “You know their pool heater runs on propane,” he said as we both imagined what would have happened if the fire had somehow reached their propane tank. Our eyes met.
I was on the floor with the dog, all 70 pounds of her in my lap. “All’s well that ends well,” I said heartily. “As long as you and the animals are safe that’s all that matters,” I said, giving the dog an extra hug.