Poem: "Like I Could Throw Off Sparks"
This poem was inspired by the "Flashbacks" square in my 7-1-23 card for the Fireworks Bingo fest. It has been sponsored by janetmiles. It belongs to the Rutledge thread of the Polychrome Heroics series and follows "Why People Hold onto Memories."
"Like I Could Throw Off Sparks"
[Evening of Tuesday, July 1, 2014]
They were just finishing dessert
at Mandy's Diner when Oscar
received a message on his phone.
"Hey, Labib!" Oscar said, grinning at him.
"The fire chief just saved our ba--backsides."
"You can say 'bacon' around me, I don't
mind it," said Labib. "I just don't eat it."
"I know, it just seems rude," said Oscar.
"Anyway, I think the fireworks issue is fixed."
"That would be a great relief," said Labib.
"What did the fire chief decide to do about it?
I thought people did not want to be too harsh."
"That's the beauty of it," said Oscar. "He's
offering fire safety and fireworks safety classes.
Basic ones are free, intermediate are cheap,
and advanced cost more just because of
the materials involved. I admit that I'm
kind of tempted by some myself."
"Why?" said Labib. "I thought you
didn't care much for fireworks."
"Yeah, no, I don't like people
lighting them in the parks,
without proper precautions,"
said Oscar. "In safe places,
fireworks can be fun. I already
have the intermediate certs, but
the advanced classes are for
actually making fireworks or
composing fireworks shows."
"That sounds interesting,"
Labib said. "How does it
relate to our little miscreants?"
"People who earn certs get access
to places where they can light fireworks,"
said Oscar. "The catch is, anyone caught
misusing fireworks has to take a safety class,
pay a fee to cover the teacher's time, but
they don't get to see the evening shows
that all the other students get to enjoy.
Carrot and stick, perfectly matched."
"That certainly makes the punishment
fit the crime," Labib agreed. "Since
you are the injured party, does that
meet with your sense of justice?"
Oscar rubbed his bruised chin.
"I think you got rattled way more
than I did, my friend," he said.
"But yeah, I'm smooth with this."
"I assume that the fees will not
be too onerous for those with
lesser means," said Labib. "Life
is hard enough on a short budget
without children getting into trouble."
"The cost is part of the restitution,
but they probably have a sliding scale
if necessary," Oscar said. "Oh, and
everything's free to our refugees, in case
anyone would like to learn how to deal
with fireworks or fires," Oscar added.
"That makes sense," Labib agreed.
His fork squeaked against the plate,
and he set it neatly to the side.
"Labib, how are you doing?"
Oscar said gently. "I know
today was pretty hard on you."
"I'm ... trying," Labib said. "But I
can hardly sit still. I keep fidgeting,
crossing one leg and then the other.
I feel like I could throw off sparks,
or break a window -- maybe
rearrange all the furniture."
"Yeah, memories can do
that to you, especially if you
get flashbacks," Oscar said.
"Look around, try to ground
yourself in the here and now."
Labib turned to watch people
coming into the diner, and
slowly began to relax again.
"Hey, have your kids earned
their fire safety certs yet?"
said Oscar. "If not, you
should take them too. It's
a lot of fun for the little ones."
"I don't know," said Labib,
shadows crossing his face.
"Fires can be ... scary for them."
"Not when the make-believe fire tunnel
is made out of flame-patterned fabric
covered in purple and red sequins,"
Oscar said. "It's silly on purpose."
Labib chuckled. "You have a point,"
he said. "I'll ask my family, then.
What is the event facility like?"
"Fire Chief Wallace Mindwell
lives at Fire Mountain Farm,"
said Oscar. "His place is out west
of the town -- well, technically the farm
belongs to his younger brother Haris."
"A farm, not an event venue in town?"
Labib asked. "Interesting choice."
"All of our local emergency services
use that as a practice ground," Oscar said.
"They have a rescue tower, a firing range,
an obstacle course, and so on. So
they can do the fireworks below
the tower, safe on the concrete."
"Safe is good," Labib said.
His voice wobbled a bit, then
steadied again. "A family farm?"
"Oh yeah, there's a herd of people
living at Fire Mountain," Oscar said,
laughing. "It's a big family -- Norman
and Trudy got seven grown kids."
"So many of them?" Labib said,
sounding a little breathless.
"And they all live together?"
"Well, mostly," said Oscar.
"Clarissa lives in town because
she's a nurse, and Radcliff moved
to Hollywood, California for his acting.
Daniel's still in law school, in Texas
which he hates living there. But
there's a bunch on the farm."
"And that's common here?"
Labib said, leaning forward.
"Pretty much, though Vermont is
losing people, so it's not as common
as it used to be," said Oscar. "They
got a big house on a big farm, so it
just makes sense to share it instead of
everyone having separate mortgages."
"That sounds wonderful," said Labib.
"This place is just so peaceful."
Suddenly Oscar noticed that
Labib was looking at him like
a starving dog staring at a steak.
What in the world could it be?
Sure, the activities were good,
but they weren't that good.
Then Oscar realized:
it was the family.
The big, happy family
living together in a home
that hadn't been bombed to bits.
Oscar couldn't bring back
the extended family that
Labib had lost, or fix up
the mess in Syria, but he
sure could tell stories
about this family if it
made Labib feel better.
"Okay, let me think a bit,"
Oscar said. "I go out there
for events fairly often, but
there's a lot of folks to recall."
He counted on his fingers,
nodding to himself, then began.
"Norman is a retired farmer, it's
his family farm," said Oscar. "Trudy
is a master gardener. They passed
the farm to their second son Haris.
His wife Rhian keeps the horses,
and they have four children."
"Horses are beautiful,"
said Labib. "I like
watching them run."
"So do I," said Oscar.
"Wallace is the oldest son,
but he didn't want the farm;
he's the fire chief. His wife Kate
is a police officer. They have
seven kids. They teach a lot
of safety events out there."
"Kate ... I think I've seen
flyers for some," said Labib.
"Something about circles?"
"That's the boundaries class,"
said Oscar. "They have those
for all different ages, too."
"I'll watch for that to come up
again, if it does," said Labib.
"They repeat stuff," Oscar said.
"Moving down, Rona does marketing
and her husband Raymond is into
information technology. They've
got four kids. I think that they do
some computing things for the farm."
"Always useful," Labib agreed.
"The Business Incubator will help
new people find skills like that."
"I hope so," said Oscar. "Radcliff
is an actor, out in Hollywood like I
mentioned earlier. "Man, you gotta
watch his movies, The Auntie Hero
is hilarious. He did a TV show too,
Starbucklers, that's also fun. Currently
he's working on a horror flick, Corrugated,
with real heavy prosthetic makeup since
the character has scars from fireworks."
Labib winced. "Don't remind me
how dangerous those can be."
"Sorry," said Oscar. He refrained
from mentioned how many supervillains
came about the same way, and instead
went back to family news. "Clarissa's
a nurse who works in, what was it,
substance abuse. No boyfriend now,
she's had some back luck there."
"It is not easy to find the right person
to share your life," said Labib. "I was
most fortunate in finding mine."
"True," said Oscar. "Okay, Alana
is an actress who does modeling too;
she and Radcliff really bonded over that.
Her husband Rigby is a gym teacher who
gives tennis lessons on the farm, and
they've got three children, all little."
Labib smiled. "The little ones
are so precious," he murmured.
"I think so too. You'll probably see
some of them at the event," said Oscar.
"Last one is Daniel. He's a generalist,
great at connecting the dots. Currently
he's studying conflict resolution and
agriculture law." Oscar chuckled. "That's
one we don't have to worry about losing;
he can hardly wait to come home."
Labib gave a wistful sigh. "It seems
like you know everyone," he said.
"Not quite, but I do know a lot
of folks in emergency services or
parks and recreation," said Oscar.
"I miss that," said Labib. "I knew
so many people at ho--in Syria.
Here, sometimes I feel cast adrift."
Oscar squeezed his shoulder.
"You have me," he said firmly.
"If you want, I can introduce you
to more folks. Besides, with
the Business Incubator,
people will come to us."
"That's true," Labib said,
brightening a little. "I like
meeting new people."
"Well, let me know what
your family decides about
the fireworks and fire safety,"
said Oscar. "I'll come with you
if you decide to attend. Don't
worry too much about flashbacks,
the hosts know trauma care and
it wouldn't be the first time that
someone melted down at an event."
"Thank you for making it sound ...
almost normal," Labib said.
"It's as normal as limping
after you get hit by a car,"
said Oscar. "Nobody
expects you to be fine
after what you've survived.
I don't even need to know
the details to understand
that it must've been awful."
"It was," Labib said roughly.
Then he shook himself. "But
that was then and this is now.
I'm grateful for your company."
Oscar was grateful for Labib too,
even if he was still a bit concerned.
"You feeling better yet, or still
like you could throw off sparks?"
Oscar said. "We could walk it off."
"Good idea," Labib said, pushing
his empty dessert plate away. "I
think a walk would help settle me."
Assuming nobody else screwed off
with fireworks, but this far in town
that shouldn't be a real risk tonight.
They paid for supper, then went out
to wander the streets of Rutledge.
It was a beautiful evening, with
people strolling in the cooling air
as they peeked into shop windows.
Oscar spotted a few new places
where Syrians had set up shops.
That's what America was all about,
really -- a chance for new beginnings.
He loved that about his home.
* * *
Notes:
This poem is long, so its character (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9), location, and content notes appear separately.
"Like I Could Throw Off Sparks"
[Evening of Tuesday, July 1, 2014]
They were just finishing dessert
at Mandy's Diner when Oscar
received a message on his phone.
"Hey, Labib!" Oscar said, grinning at him.
"The fire chief just saved our ba--backsides."
"You can say 'bacon' around me, I don't
mind it," said Labib. "I just don't eat it."
"I know, it just seems rude," said Oscar.
"Anyway, I think the fireworks issue is fixed."
"That would be a great relief," said Labib.
"What did the fire chief decide to do about it?
I thought people did not want to be too harsh."
"That's the beauty of it," said Oscar. "He's
offering fire safety and fireworks safety classes.
Basic ones are free, intermediate are cheap,
and advanced cost more just because of
the materials involved. I admit that I'm
kind of tempted by some myself."
"Why?" said Labib. "I thought you
didn't care much for fireworks."
"Yeah, no, I don't like people
lighting them in the parks,
without proper precautions,"
said Oscar. "In safe places,
fireworks can be fun. I already
have the intermediate certs, but
the advanced classes are for
actually making fireworks or
composing fireworks shows."
"That sounds interesting,"
Labib said. "How does it
relate to our little miscreants?"
"People who earn certs get access
to places where they can light fireworks,"
said Oscar. "The catch is, anyone caught
misusing fireworks has to take a safety class,
pay a fee to cover the teacher's time, but
they don't get to see the evening shows
that all the other students get to enjoy.
Carrot and stick, perfectly matched."
"That certainly makes the punishment
fit the crime," Labib agreed. "Since
you are the injured party, does that
meet with your sense of justice?"
Oscar rubbed his bruised chin.
"I think you got rattled way more
than I did, my friend," he said.
"But yeah, I'm smooth with this."
"I assume that the fees will not
be too onerous for those with
lesser means," said Labib. "Life
is hard enough on a short budget
without children getting into trouble."
"The cost is part of the restitution,
but they probably have a sliding scale
if necessary," Oscar said. "Oh, and
everything's free to our refugees, in case
anyone would like to learn how to deal
with fireworks or fires," Oscar added.
"That makes sense," Labib agreed.
His fork squeaked against the plate,
and he set it neatly to the side.
"Labib, how are you doing?"
Oscar said gently. "I know
today was pretty hard on you."
"I'm ... trying," Labib said. "But I
can hardly sit still. I keep fidgeting,
crossing one leg and then the other.
I feel like I could throw off sparks,
or break a window -- maybe
rearrange all the furniture."
"Yeah, memories can do
that to you, especially if you
get flashbacks," Oscar said.
"Look around, try to ground
yourself in the here and now."
Labib turned to watch people
coming into the diner, and
slowly began to relax again.
"Hey, have your kids earned
their fire safety certs yet?"
said Oscar. "If not, you
should take them too. It's
a lot of fun for the little ones."
"I don't know," said Labib,
shadows crossing his face.
"Fires can be ... scary for them."
"Not when the make-believe fire tunnel
is made out of flame-patterned fabric
covered in purple and red sequins,"
Oscar said. "It's silly on purpose."
Labib chuckled. "You have a point,"
he said. "I'll ask my family, then.
What is the event facility like?"
"Fire Chief Wallace Mindwell
lives at Fire Mountain Farm,"
said Oscar. "His place is out west
of the town -- well, technically the farm
belongs to his younger brother Haris."
"A farm, not an event venue in town?"
Labib asked. "Interesting choice."
"All of our local emergency services
use that as a practice ground," Oscar said.
"They have a rescue tower, a firing range,
an obstacle course, and so on. So
they can do the fireworks below
the tower, safe on the concrete."
"Safe is good," Labib said.
His voice wobbled a bit, then
steadied again. "A family farm?"
"Oh yeah, there's a herd of people
living at Fire Mountain," Oscar said,
laughing. "It's a big family -- Norman
and Trudy got seven grown kids."
"So many of them?" Labib said,
sounding a little breathless.
"And they all live together?"
"Well, mostly," said Oscar.
"Clarissa lives in town because
she's a nurse, and Radcliff moved
to Hollywood, California for his acting.
Daniel's still in law school, in Texas
which he hates living there. But
there's a bunch on the farm."
"And that's common here?"
Labib said, leaning forward.
"Pretty much, though Vermont is
losing people, so it's not as common
as it used to be," said Oscar. "They
got a big house on a big farm, so it
just makes sense to share it instead of
everyone having separate mortgages."
"That sounds wonderful," said Labib.
"This place is just so peaceful."
Suddenly Oscar noticed that
Labib was looking at him like
a starving dog staring at a steak.
What in the world could it be?
Sure, the activities were good,
but they weren't that good.
Then Oscar realized:
it was the family.
The big, happy family
living together in a home
that hadn't been bombed to bits.
Oscar couldn't bring back
the extended family that
Labib had lost, or fix up
the mess in Syria, but he
sure could tell stories
about this family if it
made Labib feel better.
"Okay, let me think a bit,"
Oscar said. "I go out there
for events fairly often, but
there's a lot of folks to recall."
He counted on his fingers,
nodding to himself, then began.
"Norman is a retired farmer, it's
his family farm," said Oscar. "Trudy
is a master gardener. They passed
the farm to their second son Haris.
His wife Rhian keeps the horses,
and they have four children."
"Horses are beautiful,"
said Labib. "I like
watching them run."
"So do I," said Oscar.
"Wallace is the oldest son,
but he didn't want the farm;
he's the fire chief. His wife Kate
is a police officer. They have
seven kids. They teach a lot
of safety events out there."
"Kate ... I think I've seen
flyers for some," said Labib.
"Something about circles?"
"That's the boundaries class,"
said Oscar. "They have those
for all different ages, too."
"I'll watch for that to come up
again, if it does," said Labib.
"They repeat stuff," Oscar said.
"Moving down, Rona does marketing
and her husband Raymond is into
information technology. They've
got four kids. I think that they do
some computing things for the farm."
"Always useful," Labib agreed.
"The Business Incubator will help
new people find skills like that."
"I hope so," said Oscar. "Radcliff
is an actor, out in Hollywood like I
mentioned earlier. "Man, you gotta
watch his movies, The Auntie Hero
is hilarious. He did a TV show too,
Starbucklers, that's also fun. Currently
he's working on a horror flick, Corrugated,
with real heavy prosthetic makeup since
the character has scars from fireworks."
Labib winced. "Don't remind me
how dangerous those can be."
"Sorry," said Oscar. He refrained
from mentioned how many supervillains
came about the same way, and instead
went back to family news. "Clarissa's
a nurse who works in, what was it,
substance abuse. No boyfriend now,
she's had some back luck there."
"It is not easy to find the right person
to share your life," said Labib. "I was
most fortunate in finding mine."
"True," said Oscar. "Okay, Alana
is an actress who does modeling too;
she and Radcliff really bonded over that.
Her husband Rigby is a gym teacher who
gives tennis lessons on the farm, and
they've got three children, all little."
Labib smiled. "The little ones
are so precious," he murmured.
"I think so too. You'll probably see
some of them at the event," said Oscar.
"Last one is Daniel. He's a generalist,
great at connecting the dots. Currently
he's studying conflict resolution and
agriculture law." Oscar chuckled. "That's
one we don't have to worry about losing;
he can hardly wait to come home."
Labib gave a wistful sigh. "It seems
like you know everyone," he said.
"Not quite, but I do know a lot
of folks in emergency services or
parks and recreation," said Oscar.
"I miss that," said Labib. "I knew
so many people at ho--in Syria.
Here, sometimes I feel cast adrift."
Oscar squeezed his shoulder.
"You have me," he said firmly.
"If you want, I can introduce you
to more folks. Besides, with
the Business Incubator,
people will come to us."
"That's true," Labib said,
brightening a little. "I like
meeting new people."
"Well, let me know what
your family decides about
the fireworks and fire safety,"
said Oscar. "I'll come with you
if you decide to attend. Don't
worry too much about flashbacks,
the hosts know trauma care and
it wouldn't be the first time that
someone melted down at an event."
"Thank you for making it sound ...
almost normal," Labib said.
"It's as normal as limping
after you get hit by a car,"
said Oscar. "Nobody
expects you to be fine
after what you've survived.
I don't even need to know
the details to understand
that it must've been awful."
"It was," Labib said roughly.
Then he shook himself. "But
that was then and this is now.
I'm grateful for your company."
Oscar was grateful for Labib too,
even if he was still a bit concerned.
"You feeling better yet, or still
like you could throw off sparks?"
Oscar said. "We could walk it off."
"Good idea," Labib said, pushing
his empty dessert plate away. "I
think a walk would help settle me."
Assuming nobody else screwed off
with fireworks, but this far in town
that shouldn't be a real risk tonight.
They paid for supper, then went out
to wander the streets of Rutledge.
It was a beautiful evening, with
people strolling in the cooling air
as they peeked into shop windows.
Oscar spotted a few new places
where Syrians had set up shops.
That's what America was all about,
really -- a chance for new beginnings.
He loved that about his home.
* * *
Notes:
This poem is long, so its character (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9), location, and content notes appear separately.