Wait in the Fire

Looking back now, I wonder what I would've saved if there had been time. There was that necklace my Gran gave me, the photo with Dad from my second birthday, my trophy for high-jump. In the end I wasn't able to save anything... except myself.

The heat was unbearable. As I stepped out of the bus, a gust of hot wind hit me like a slap to the face. I couldn't remember a day as hot or as windy. At school no one could concentrate. The oppressive heat seemed to turn everyone into zombies.

All afternoon the dam just 100 metres from the bus stop had been on my mind. Daydreams of the relief I knew the cool water would bring had plagued my thoughts. As I set off through the bushland the sun beat down on me and I could feel a river of sweat trickling down my spine.

The reflection of the stringy barks on the surface of the dam spurred me into a final burst of energy. I ran to the edge of the dam, ripping my school dress off as I did so. Throwing my dress onto a fallen tree, I dove into the cold water where relief hit me instantly.

I drifted lazily around the dam for about an hour, occasionally ducking my head beneath the surface. Eventually I had to drag myself away from the water. I buttoned my school dress up over my damp body and began walking home.

Mum was away fighting fires with the CFA and the house seemed eerily quiet. The silence was broken by the buzz of my phone cutting through the air. It was Mum.

She didn't sound like herself. "Look honey, I need you to listen carefully. I can't talk for long but I need you to do some things for me."

The tone of her voice bothered me; it was unlike her to skip small talk.

"I thought I'd get home tonight but they've asked for more crews for Gippsland and I said I would go. Sarah's coming to pick you up tomorrow so you'll only have tonight on your own."

After the smallest pause, she continued. "Tomorrow's forecast is looking bad and there's a real fire risk but I'm sure you'll be fine. Now, before it gets dark, I need you to go outside and rake the front lawn, clear all the dead leaves away. Then go into the shed and find the stack of buckets. Put them around the house and fill them with water, fill the bath as well. I also need you to find your blue flannel jacket and thickest pants. If you can find them also get my old fire-fighting boots and gloves. Take these clothes to Sarah's, you might need them. I love you Grace. I'll call tomorrow."

She hung up.

What Mum said left me feeling uneasy. I know she wouldn't have said anything if the risk wasn't real.

Everything was done just as Mum had instructed. The heat was starting to make me feel sick again but I forced myself to make dinner. The emptiness of the house was bothering me so I turned on the radio. The news was on and exactly as Mum had said; the warnings for Saturday were extreme. Premier John Brumby's voice echoed and he sounded stern. "I can't stress this enough; I know that the chief fire officer has been out and he said it will be as bad as it can get. He's not exaggerating."

The news ended and after a few ads the familiar guitar riff of 'Grace' by Jeff Buckley started to play. Just hearing it lifted my spirits. This was the song my parents named me after and it always made me feel close to them. The song had played on repeat when my parents were going through their divorce and it had always comforted me.

Hours later I awoke with a start, drenched in sweat and feeling as if I were suffocating. Even this late at night the heat was stifling. I tried to recall my nightmare but all I could remember was the feeling of suffocation.
As if something ominous was coming.