Arnesto Modesto: The World's Most Ineffectual Time Traveler

Fire It Up

Katrina's House

Silicon Valley, California

Friday, August 26, 2011

Evening

Thus begun the moral dilemma of whether Arnesto should once again risk everything to save one life. Fuck it, Hiromi was a real nice guy. Of course he had to try. The issue was how.

What could he remember from the funeral? Not much. Lots of sobbing, people saying, "I can't believe he's gone," over and over. It was nice, about as pleasant as such a tragic funeral can be. Hiromi had looked good, very peaceful. Actually, that was something that had surprised Arnesto. After finding out Hiromi had died in a fire, it had been something of a relief to find out his death had been from smoke inhalation instead of having burned to a crisp. Made it easier for everyone to say goodbye.

Wait, there had been a brunch a week or so later. A bunch of the old crew had decided to get together in Hiromi's honor. Somebody had said something about the fire happening at night, possibly a dryer fire while they slept. Hiromi's wife, Yokiko, had made it out in time. He obviously hadn't.

Tracking down Hiromi's address was as easy as looking up Hiromi's current employer on LinkedIn and then covertly following him home that Monday. It was only a slightly bigger hassle finding a fireman's mask, but he secured one by Wednesday, and returned to Hiromi's house in the wee hours that Saturday morning.

Hiromi and Yokiko lived in a cul-de-sac in a modest, one-story home. It was nice that there weren't any stairs to worry about. As an added bonus, Arnesto found a place to park farther down the main road where he could keep an eye on the house. It was also in the opposite direction from where Hiromi was likely to drive.

Arnesto settled in and drank his coffee, not that he needed it. The stress of the situation already held his mind hostage. Was there no other, safer way of handling this scenario? Warn them anonymously? Might be ignored while potentially adding a murder investigation. What about breaking in, planting a bunch of extra-loud smoke detectors? Right, might as well turn himself in right now. Same with starting a fire while they were out. There were too many variables, and above all else, he couldn't break his cardinal rule: Do not. Get. Caught.

The hours crept by. Finally, around 7:30 in the morning, he saw the garage door open and Yokiko leave for work. The night was a bust. Great, now he had an extra day to fill himself with self-doubt and preemptive guilt. After he went to bed, of course.

Easier said than done. Though he was plenty tired, the extra caffeine was wreaking havoc on his system. He only slept a couple hours that morning, plus a brief nap early that afternoon that only seemed to make him feel even groggier. Before long, he found himself back in the same parking spot in the wee hours of Sunday morning. There was one difference — he forgot his coffee this time.

Was there anything else he should have brought? An ax? A battering ram? Nah, they would only add suspicion and complicate things. Keep it simple, stupid. Too late now, anyway. Man, he was definitely not as coherent tonight as he was the night before.

Around three o'clock, Arnesto tilted the seat back so he could give himself an unobstructed stretch. He closed his eyes for a second, but that was a second too long.

Ugh, who was smoking a cigarette outside at this hour? He raised his seat and looked around but couldn't see anyone. A quick glance at the clock revealed it was 4:47. Wait, that's not right. He must've fallen asleep!

He immediately looked at the house. It appeared illuminated, but it sure didn't look like there were any lights on. "Shit!"

He reached under the passenger seat and grabbed the mask and bolted toward the house, putting the mask on as reached the driveway. "Fire!" he screamed but felt muffled due to the breathing apparatus. He lifted the mask off his mouth, not wanting to reveal his entire face, and yelled, "Hey, fire!" He kept yelling as he banged on the front door.