THE LITTLE OL’ GARDEN HOSE
I
BY G R E G A . L A N E
t was a Friday night in the summer of 2007. My family and I had just finished watching a show on TV and we were getting ready to go to bed. I was already halfway down the hall, on the way to my bedroom, when I heard my daughter exclaim, “I think the neighbor’s house is on fire!” At first, I thought she was just joking around, but when the tone of her voice went up another octave and she screamed, “FIRE!” I knew it was the real deal! I ran down the hall to look out the front door window and could see flames rising on my acrossthe-street-neighbor’s back porch. I flung open my front door and saw that one of my other neighbors was pounding on my neighbor’s front door to warn them about the fire that was rapidly spreading on their back porch. The owner of the house was asleep, and her daughter was deaf, so neither of them could hear the commotion that was going on outside. Meanwhile, my wife called the fire department and was told that a fire truck would be on the way shortly. For a brief moment, I didn’t know what to do. I watched hopelessly as the fire continued to spread. My other neighbor finally got the family inside the house to come to the door. I could see him walking them down
the road, away from the house. The deaf girl was crying as my neighbor tried to console her. In a matter of seconds, the flames had climbed from the floor of the back porch, up to one of the support beams and was on its way to the roof. I was freaking out! I looked on the ground to my right and saw our garden hose laying there.
In a matter of seconds, the flames had climbed from the floor of the back porch, up to one of the support beams and was on its way to the roof. June/July 2022
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