As promised, I am posting another excerpt from the novel today. This picks up where yesterday's post left off.
The powder blue paint bubbles and peels from the wooden siding like skin that is recovering from sunburn. It cowers in front of the flames, dripping blue rain onto the singed grass. Bit by bit, the color is devoured until the siding is a charred remnant of its former self. Pieces of it cling to the foundation it has held for more than fifty years. They glow bright orange when the wind blows against them.
The streams of water from the firemen's hoses turn to steam as they meet the flames. The water sizzles like oil in a frying pan, but it is ineffective in dousing the flames. Not long after they turn their hoses onto the house, a figure approaches us. The bright yellow suit may be fire resistant, but I can see that the heat is even taking its toll on him. When he lifts the visor of his helmet, I can see that his face is saturated with sweat. Ash is beginning to clump in the wrinkles by his eyes and the creases in his forehead. The look on his face tells me that the fire has defeated them. It is just too strong for their hoses to quell. There is no more any of us can do except keep a vigilant watch to ensure the flames are contained within the house's shell. My grandparents' house will only be able to feed it for a few more hours at the longest. Eventually, the fire will run out of fuel and will burn down. The fireman guarantees me that they will make sure the flames are completely out before they leave. There is no reason for my grandmother and I to stay here any longer, no reason for us to witness the remaining damage that will be done.
Before he walks away, he puts a gloved hand on my grandmother's shoulder. He apologizes for their late arrival, though its doubtful the house could have been saved either way. My grandparents do not live close to town. I know he wishes there was more they could have done. I wish the same thing. I wish I knew what to say to my grandmother, or what to do to make this situation easier for her. I envy the fireman. He will not have to face my grandmother again after tonight. His last words to my grandmother assure her that it was painless. Since the fire came while he was sleeping, my grandfather never woke up. If the flames did not get him, the smoke inhalation would have. The fireman tells my grandmother she is lucky that she was able to get herself out of the house in time. My grandmother just shrugs his hand off of her shoulder. She does not thank him for the words that were meant to bring comfort. I know they failed to bring her relief. She does not take her eyes off of the burning bedroom window to watch him walk away.
That made me really sad! The fact that I already care about the characters, and feel for what they are going through says great things about your writing.
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