Most of the trailer was on fire. They’d just set it, but because the trailer was so old-or because they’d poured so much gas around it-it was going up fast.
Outside, I could hear neighbors rushing toward us. I looked through the door into the living space and saw an inferno. I shouted for my parents but heard nothing.
I could stop this. I pressed my hand against the amulet and was about to imagine the fire ceasing when the gas main feeding the stove ignited and blew.
The explosion sent me back and I tripped over my shoes. A rolling ball of flame entered my bedroom and curled at the ceiling just long enough to set it on fire. It looked demonic.
Outside, people were screaming. I heard people shouting to call 911. Bits of flame were falling down on me. The trailer was starting to yawn in a great twisting of metal warping in the heat.
And then I heard my father shouting. I got up and ran to the doorway. What I saw stopped me.
My father was trying to throw a bucket of water into the living room.
But when he did, the fire reached out, tasted his clothing and turned him into a twisting funnel of flames.
