As we’ve most probably ascertained by now, the more dangerous the activity, the more likely my friends and I were to pursue it to the fullest extent. One such elemental force of nature that seemed to draw us innocents in more than anything else, was fire. It’s hypnotic, rhythmic yellow dance cast a spell upon us. That was obvious. It’s enticing beauty unfortaubtely not enough to simply admire from afar. No, it had to be an up close and personal affair with this most deadly form of having “fun”…
It was the height of summer and already a few weeks into the long holiday break away from school. We have quite a sizeable backyard, of which myself and an extensive collection of pals would regularly hang out in. Well, this one fine day, as you may have guessed it, I was spending the afternoon with my trusted and reliable bud, Lee. And, as is always the spark to ignite the innermost flames of hell itself… We were bored. After having just finished up an aptly ceremonious and large “WWF” emblem upon the wooden exterior of our quaint little shed backed up on the rear fence, life was dull once more. It just didn’t seem enough. There was something missing and we couldn’t quite put our finger on it.
”Hey.” Lee called out in his usual sing-song manner. ”Why don’t we dig a hole right here and build a fire?” Oh yes, it was as spontaneous as that. ”Great idea!” I exclaimed, enveloped in rapturous excitement at the prospect of having our very own “fire”. We were both well aware of two small hand-held garden trowels hidden away within the shed. This was so simple, it was almost brilliant.
A few minutes later, our combined efforts of manual labour had resulted in a carved out, rugged, muddy circular-shaped pit near the back fence. Just the right depth and width to encase a nice old warm fire. Why we wanted to do this though was anyone’s guess. Even ours. So, the miniature pit was set and all that was required now was a source of flammable material to set this hole ablaze.
”Kitchen towels.” I barked in his direction. Lee’s agreeable smirk said it all. Fast forward another few minutes later and the aforementioned hole was now stuff to the surface with about half a roll’s worth. We remembered to pick up the matches on the way out too. Those fine final details, funnily enough, never once escaped our mischievous minds.
Now, all that was left now was to strike a match and throw it in. The fire was pleasingly strong and grew in a matter of seconds. Though remaining under control given the unremarkable portions of our "hole planning efforts". It was a proud moment to watch Lee prodding the sooted sheets with a pitchfork that we also happened to pick out from the shed. It burned better than we ever expected it to and both shared a special moment in this unifying, yet pointless, delight. Now here’s where things took a turn for the worse.
I spied a half-empty Lynx deodorant can that we had been liberally spraying at each other a few hours back. I recall picking it up and reading the label. Flammable substance.
”Yo, man. Shall I chuck this in to make the fire burn better?” I asked. Given Lee’s lack of concentration to the sound of my voice, mainly due to the dancing flames before him, I took that as an affirmative "yes" and hurled it in to the crackling flames. I remember Lee literally jumping back in surprise at this shiny new object landing within his prized territory. Still, with the curiosity of an exceptionally inquisitive cat, he leaned forward and poked at it with the pitchfork.
Within the blink of an eye, there was a loud "BANG" and poor Lee was engulfed in flames. A round orb of bright, radiating light filled the surrounding area of where he stood. Then, as soon as it had started, the spherical ball of fire vanished. Lee remained motionless, staring at me with an expression of pure horror. And let me tell you, I will never forget what I saw. Half his eyelashes were singed to a crisp, he exhibited dark faded marks splayed across his face like he just stepped out of a war movie and the best part. One, single, plume of smoke, rising up from some undisclosed location at the back of his head. He had been, in a word, charred. I fell to the grassy floor, laughing like a half-crazed hyena. The longer he endured in this uncomfortable pose, the funnier it became.
”What the hell just happened?” he warbled, temporarily unaware of his bearings. ”Am I OK?” His words just made it worse still. And then for the encore. That small trail of smoke billowing from his head began to expand. He twitched, as if someone had slapped him across the face. ”What the… OH MY GOD!” And with that, he fled back into the house, leaving a white cloud of misty smoke behind him. I was in absolute stitches. After I had just about managed to compose myself, I hobbled in after him. Eventually, I found Lee in the upstairs bathroom, looking with undulating horror at himself in the mirror. His fingers touched fragments of brittle hair which broke off like a scorched character in a Tom & Jerry cartoon. He turned to me, eyes filling with tears. ”I’m… deformed.” That was it for me. Game, set and match.
One of the stand-out funniest days of my life. I still, to this very day, chuckle about the burning of my good friend Lee. But not too worry as the white, scant patches soon grew back and all was well again. At least, for now…
