The Fire

So, last September my apartment burned down. Tragic, I know. I do have, though, a great story out of it with ongoing mini skits in court every couple of months.

It was a Monday and I had quit smoking. I made it through the whole day at school without a cigarette and even managed to fall asleep. I was in culinary school, my last semester. In that semester, I was working in the kitchen of the on campus restaurant as part of my training. My now husband had just moved it, his congestive heart failure did not appear to be active, our three cats were getting along. Life was good.

At about 5am I heard a loud banging at the door. I went to the door and shouted through that whoever it was needed to wait for me to get dressed. (I sleep in just underwear. I wouldn't ordinarily divulge that kind of information, but it is pertinent to the story.)

So, I was in my living room searching for a light and a shirt. I didn't have my glasses on and I'm half asleep. The man at the door shouted through "Don't worry about clothes! Your house is on fire!" Meanwhile, Bobby heard the door banging and thought someone was trying to break in. He ran out into the living room with his antique, family heirloom pistol. This gun hasn't been fired in at least a generation, but it was loaded. Who knows what kind of 'protection' it really could have provided.

So, I RAN out of my apartment and down the stairs as is. I was clutching my boobs like they might fall off to prevent them not only from being seen, but to keep them from hitting me in the face as I bounced and ran. (I'm a little chesty)

Bobby ran behind me with a blanket. He is so sweet, even in the face of a house fire he thinks about my comfort.

Not even acknowledging that there was another person near me, I realized that the cats were still in the apartment. I ran back in calling their names frantically. I probably scared them as much as the fire itself did. So I SCREAMED their names,

"Anastasia! Siafu! Emily! Where are you kitties?! Time to go outside!"

sob, cry, scream

Then I heard Bobby cough. The appartment was filled, and I mean filled, with smoke. All of a sudden the cats didn't exist. My baby was sick! He couldn't be in a smoke filled apartment! I literally grabbed him by the arm and forced him outside, still calling for our cats.

Somewhere in the maylee, I was able to grab a t- shirt and my glasses. (Of course, it was an ugly t- shirt I'd been meaning to give to good will.) We ran outside and finally had a clear thought. Fire extiguishers! They were all over the complex! I started running to each extinguisher, at the top of each set of stairs and HURLING them off the steps in the general direction of the fire. Bobby was standing, in his boxer briefs, at the site of the fire ready to use the extiguishers. My neighbors started helping and there were fire extiguishers being used by the twos and threes. My feet wer cut and bloody from the broken glass of the fire extiguisher cases. I'm sprinting like a madwoman in purple panties and a pink t- shirt with bed head accross the complex and throwing fire extiguishers at the fire as though if I hit it it will stop hurting us.

Finally, the firemen came. They asked us if there was anyone inside and we told them about our cats. They went in and saved the day. They brought down our cats one by one. First was Anastasia. She was in shock, just lying in my arms limp and afraid. Second was emily. She was terrified and flailing with a kind of panic you only see in this kind of situation. The fireman handed her to Bobby and she bit his thumb right into the joint. I took her, still holding Anastasia, and she scratched my chest trying to run from the flames. Last but not least was Siafu, the youngest of the bunch. He had taken to the cat carier as his hiding spot. The fireman brought the whole set- up down and we put anastasia in with him. A neighbor brought out something to put Emily in.

The fire was out. I noticed my apartment manager was out, fully dressed with her hair done and her make- up on. She was very calm and I thought, 'when did she have time to get dressed? I want to get dressed.' I was cold and just realizing that all of my neighbors and a good number of city employees had seen me in my purple panties. I needed to pee but I didn't have a bathroom anymore. I was hungry and nautious and scared. I was homeless. I've worked since I was 15 years old, I've always had a place to live. Even if I was just barely making it, I always had a place to live until that day. What was I going to do?

A month later, after being told that a cause of fire had to be determined before my deposit could be returned, I got a letter saying that more than half my deposit was being kept by the property management company for 'heavy cleaning' charges. Mind you, the fire was not my fault and the report reflects this information.

I have now sued and won, and am in the process of fighting the appeals of the property management company. The important thing is that I have a place to live. I went to family for help and recieved it. This was the most rediculous experience of my life. When I returened to school, my classmates and I made a cake that showed me in purple panties running toward a giant fire extinguisher. As crappy as all this has been, the image of a chunky woman with short, stubby legs 'sprinting' to fire extinguishers in order to fling them at her boyfriend will always be a funny one.