The Skeleton & The Carpenter

Out of the Freezer and into the Fire

        Stepping outside into the warm sunlight somehow made Hardware Guy's goosebumps worse and Roger's teeth chatter more loudly than they had inside of the house.

"Some story." said Hardware Guy as they climbed into his truck.

"Yeah, you can say that again." Roger replied. He was not sure how he felt about Icy Dude's ordeal. On one hand, he was a criminal, so getting frozen was like a punishment for his bad deeds. On the other hand, he only resorted to crime to support himself after his family left him, so maybe he did not deserve to be frozen solid for the rest of his life. Roger was uncomfortable with the thought that his own father was responsible for the state of Icy Dude's life, whether he deserved it or not.

"So, where was I?" Hardware Guy said, interrupting Roger's conflicted thoughts.

"Huh?" asked Roger.

"In my story. The last thing I told you was about Ollie leavin', right? I told you I'd tell you the rest on the way home, and it looks to me like we're on the way home."

Roger looked out his window and realized that they had left their parking spot in front of Icy Dude's house and were driving on a scenic country road.

"Oh, right. You were about to tell me about... your parents." Roger said, taking care not to add any unwanted inflection, as he did not know what Hardware Guy was about to tell him about his parents. All he knew was that it was not likely to be a happy story. Hardware Guy shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and began, in a serious tone,
"So, as I was sayin', my parents, Bubba, and me went for a visit to the French fry factory when I was just four years old. We were on a catwalk looking down at some conveyor belts which carried the potatoes to slicers, but they were leaning a little too fa- FIRE!" Hardware Guy slammed on the breaks, causing Roger to jerk forward and bump his skull into the windshield.

"Ow! What the heck?!" Roger yelled, holding his sore forehead in his hand. He looked out his window and saw what had made Hardware Guy stop the car: one of the many cozy-looking houses on the street they were driving down was engulfed in flames. They looked at one and other and, without exchanging a word, Roger and Hardware Guy sprung from the car and sprinted recklessly towards the flaming home.

The flames licked their faces as they burst through the front door. With the fire hot on their faces, they had to squint through watery eyes to make out the peculiar sight of a man clinging to a blade on a still-rotating ceiling fan so as to keep from burning his feet on the kindling carpet below.

"Why, Johnny? WHY?!" screamed the spinning man at the top of his lungs.

Roger ran towards the man, barely feeling the flames on the carpet thanks to his lack of skin. Hardware Guy, meanwhile, dashed up the stairs to the second floor, flames singeing the tips of his mustache.

"Let go!" Roger ordered the man hanging from the fan as he grabbed him by the knees. He complied and fell into the skeleton's arms. Roger ran as fast as his legs would push him back out the front door, the man clinging to him. They collapsed on the grass in front of the house as Roger lost his footing.

"Are you okay?" Roger asked the man, both sprawled on the grass.

"Y-yes." the man coughed out, shaking.

Before Roger had time to start worrying about Hardware Guy, he jumped out of one of the first-floor windows (which had already broken from the intense heat of the fire), carrying a boy under one arm and a baby in the other.

"Thank y-you!" the man stuttered, scrambling towards Hardware Guy and the two children he had saved. "Ronnie, Johnny, thank God you're okay!" Then, his tone shifted from grateful to reprimanding. "But, Johnny, you need to stop playing with matches! Give them to me, now."
The boy handed his father a half-full book of matches, avoiding eye contact. Hardware Guy and Roger, coming down from their adrenaline rushes, were able to get a good look at the occupants of the burning house: the baby, Ronnie, was drooling and had an impressive head of black hair, which stood straight up to a height of about seven inches above his head; the boy, Johnny, looked about nine-years-old and had a bowl-cut; the father looked almost identical to his older son, haircut and all, except he had a thin, scraggly mustache and deep lines on his face, perhaps result of many years of smiling, theorized Roger. All three had ash smeared on their skin and clothes.

"Thank you so much." the father said, turning to the rescuers. "I don't know who you are or where you came from, but you saved our lives." As he shook their hands, Roger saw tears welling in his eyes.

Hardware Guy found that the book of matches had wound up in his hand. The father must have forgotten he was holding them when he went to shake hands.

"Uh, your matches?" Hardware Guy asked.

"You keep them, please. I'd rather never see a match again as long as I live, if I can help it."

Just as Roger opened his mouth ask what had happened to cause the fire, a siren because audible in the distance. It quickly grew louder and louder until Roger, Hardware Guy, Ronnie, Johnny, and their father – all of whom had craned their necks to try to see where the noise was coming from – saw a shining, apple-red firetruck come into view, speeding towards the house. The truck came to a screeching halt, siren still blaring, and the driver hopped out. He was all at once jovial and serious-looking, wearing a fiercely yellow jacket with matching pants, grayed boots and gloves, and a blood-red helmet with an 'F' on the center. His hair (what they could see of it under the helmet) was close-cropped and jet-black, and his glimmering eyes, behind his glasses, reflected the red, flickering flames.

"Is there anyone else in the house?" asked the firefighter, in a tone that conveyed the direness of the situation as well as the good-nature of the speaker.

"No. Just me and my two sons here." the father replied. "And these two young gentlemen."

"Mr. Why, is that you?" the fireman said, suddenly recognizing the homeowner.

"Fireman Frank!" Mr. Why said, a smile coming to his face. Apparently the firefighter and the father had met before.

"Another fire, huh? Here, you can tell me all about it after I put this out, okay?" Fireman Frank said, turning on the truck's fire hose, one end of which he had just screwed onto a nearby fire hydrant, and proceeding to blast the house with a powerful stream of water.

For ten minutes, the bystanders watched in silence as Fireman Frank made quick work of the fire. They did not even move when we adjusted his aim, putting them directly under the water stream and on the receiving end of a gentle mist of water. The house was still smoking but the fire was completely extinguished when Fireman Frank rolled the hose up and went to talk with the wet crowd.

"So, what happened this time? Is Johnny here" – the fireman gave the boy's hair a tousling – "still playing with matches?"

"So it seems. I can't figure out where he's finding them. After the last house burned down..." Mr. Why began.

"And the house before that. And the house before that." Fireman Frank interjected.

"Right, after the last houses burned down, I've been sure to keep matches out of the house. But he just keeps finding them, somewhere." Mr. Why finished, a tone of exasperation in his voice.

"Johnny, I don't know how many different ways I can keep telling you. You've got to stop playing with matches, okay?" Fireman Frank said to Johnny, bending down.

Johnny remained mum.

"It's a miracle no one was hurt." the firefighter said, straightening up.

"It's no miracle, these two saved our hides." said Mr. Why, indicating Hardware Guy and Roger. "Matter o' fact, I never even got your names!"

"I'm Roger."

"I'm Hardware Guy."

"You saved our lives, boys. I can't thank you enough. I'm Mr. Why, these are my sons Johnny and Ronnie."

"And I'm Fireman Frank, this part of town's only fireman. You boys did a good thing today. Normally I'd tell you that it isn't a good idea to run into a burning building, – and it isn't – but the Whys might not be standing here if you hadn't. I suppose you two are heroes today." Fireman Frank said, with an infectious smile.

Roger and Hardware Guy could not help but grin widely while he addressed them.