Chapter 5

It was a sad mistake really; a simple careless error. Then again it's often the smallest blunder whos irrevocability blights and burdens us for a lifetime. Tom was about to discover this unfortunate fact in much the same manner that the Titanic, many moons ago, had discovered what lay beneath the tip of that stolid iceberg. It was a discovery that would leave him shipwrecked, cold, floundering desperately in the uncertain waters of life.

But Tom was impervious to that fact just yet. He came running down the sunny sidewalk as fast as his little legs could carry him, his plastic bag of tea bobbing about on his thigh. He was pleased, relieved and proud to have made it back home in such good time. A small smile spread across his face as he considered his small achievement but just as suddenly it vanished. Something was going on... What was that nasty haze hanging over the neighborhood? Smog? Maybe...Something more? He felt uneasy and this dirty fog seemed to be an ill omen. It hung low spreading it's baneful shadow over the whole neighborhood like bad luck solidified, made palpable.

He could hear sirens in the distance too...The sound of them was getting closer and closer but by the time he reached his mailbox they had stopped. What confronted him instead was the telltale flash of red and blue lights. Tom's heart stopped...GodGodGod.....what had happened! Firefighters were there. Their hoses filled the driveway like a horde of yellow anacondas. Beyond them Tom caught a small glimpse of his home; blackened and smoldering amidst a shallow lake. The fire hoses sputtered like an old man with consumption and then dried up completely. The men retreated. Tom stood agape. His bag of tea lay abandoned, fully saturated on the driveway floor. One of the men approached him, cautiously. He placed a big calloused hand gingerly on his shoulder...."Gee man...you're not Tom Wimble........are ya?" Tom, broken out of his trance nodded vaguely. "I don't know what to tell you man....we did the best we could...." The other firemen, their hats off and heads bowed, sat exhausted on the driveway floor and the fire truck's bumper and nodded in sympathetic agreement. The lead fireman looked guiltily away. "....We came as fast as we could....couldn't get her to climb out the window..." And then finally attempting a little bit of eye contact. ".....We just wanted to let you know....." Tom continued to stare grimly ahead, much too shocked to offer any kind of reply. The firemen left. Concerned neighbors came but filed off when, one by one, they became disturbed by the single minded intensity with which Tom focused on the charred house. An afternoon shower came and went in much the same manner. The sun came out and dried him off and then- finally- the dusk descended and Tom- clothed in tattered jacket, sodden socks and deep despair- watched it knowing he was now quite alone in this world.