Catch Me on Fire

The living room is on fire, and I swear it’s not my fault.

Well, maybe a little bit, but I didn’t actually light the flame. I may have ignored the first few loud pops outside my bedroom, but I wasn’t in the mood to check. I thought, “Hey, Felix is old enough to not do something utterly ridiculous”, but I was wrong. When the cheers of my brothers joined the pops, I knew something wasn’t right. I opened my door to a firecracker exploding right at my feet. I screamed and I could hear Felix laughing in the background.

“I’m going to kill both of you,” I growled as I turned to face my brothers.

I wanted to just slam my door shut again, but I knew that would make him more determined to annoy me. Obviously, my only choice was to chase after them. Maybe give them both a good ass-whooping.

The fire hadn’t started yet. Oh, no. First, this had to happen:

“Felix! Tucker! Get out here,” I yelled.

I was stalking the halls, waiting, and preparing to attack when the idiots made themselves known. It was a typical day in our house to find me hunting down the two boys. It’s basically my job at this point. Mom worked all day long at the restaurant (a classy, little, vegan place down on Broadway), and Paul was all over the country with his job. So, I often found myself responsible for my brothers. Mom’s never specifically told me that I am, but the, “Kenzie, you’re in charge,” is implied. Especially when I have more maturity in my pinky than Felix does in his entire body, despite the fact he’s two years older than me.

I rounded the corner into the living room when Tucker, he’s five and yells at us when we swear, pounced on me. He’s really small for his age with really big ears, but -damn- that kid has a grip. We both fell to the floor in a heap as I tried, and failed, to pull his noodle arms from around my waist. The kid’s yelling some weird war chant, and I was screaming at him to stop when I saw a pair of dirty, blue socks out the corner of my eye. Felix.

“Can you get him off of me, Felix?” I said, my hand was on Tucker’s face squishing it in a way that the sounds coming out of his mouth turned to raspberries.

“Nope,” my older brother said as he towered over us. That stupid grin was on his face, the one that made him look like the Mexican version of a frog. Dad gets the same exact look when he’s about to pull something, I wonder if he got it from Felix or if Felix got it from him.

“What? Why?” Tucker had started to loosen his grip, and my hand was covered in his drool.

“You’ve been working on homework forever. Me and Felix are bored,” Tucker said as he finally wiggled off of me.

“Yeah, sis.” Felix’s grin grew wider. “Hang out with us a little. Tucker and I found a wicked stash of fireworks Paul was hiding.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “No.”

His smile faltered for just a second. “Why not? Mom won’t be home for, like, another hour.”

“No.”

I’d like to say that I had the final word, that my brother had put the matches away, the fireworks back into Paul’s ‘Off-Limits’ drawer. Sadly, if that’s how it happened my living room wouldn’t be on fire. People should really listen to me more.

It’s not my fault. Felix is older than me. I shouldn’t have to tell him not to use fireworks in the house. It’s common sense. He should know that already. It wasn’t my idea, and it shouldn’t be my responsibility. I told them both not to do it a bunch of times. They don’t listen to me, even though Mom basically put me in charge.

I could even go as far as to blame my stepdad for buying anything fire-related and keeping them within reach of little hands. Tucker was a sneaky, little shit, and the ‘Off-Limits’ drawer meant literally nothing to him. I’m pretty sure he can’t even read what it says yet. It doesn’t help that Paul gives into whatever his son asks for, and Tucker will no doubt remain the innocent party in all of this.

Whatever. It’s not my fault.

Anyways, my living room is on fire. The flower pattern curtains lit up like a fucking candle -I never knew those could be such a hazard. To my eyes, sure, but not my life. Abuelita was the one who picked out those curtains because “They came with a matching rug and couch cover and were 25% off!” I guess technically my living room isn’t on fire only, like, a wall.

A wall of my living room is on fire and my brothers are really loud. Tucker’s little squeal is almost completely drowned out by Felix’s hysteria.

“Shit, shit, shitshitshitshitshit. I didn’t think they would be flammable!” he says as he bursts into nervous laughter. He starts for the flame, but it pops with leftover gunpowder and he jumps back. I would say I’m shocked that he didn’t see this coming, but I’m really not. He’s never been one for common sense. He’s more of the do-now think-later type. I want to feel bad for my poor, stupid brother, but right now all I can think is how hot the room is.

“Well, sonofabitch,” I say. That only manages to makes Tucker, who finds cursing taboo but hilarious, laugh harder.

“You both said bad words,” he says pointing at me with a stubby finger.

I’m across the room in seconds trying to smother the curtain with itself. It only manages to calm the flames for a second before the curtain next to it smoking too. I fix a hard glare at Tucker over my shoulder who tries to stifle his giggles to no avail. The fire’s spreading to the bottoms of the curtain next to it along with the edge of the matching rug under my feet. I’m forced away when the heat starts to make my feet and hands tingle.

“Yeah, well you shouldn’t be playing with fireworks,” I say pointing back at him. He huffs and crosses his arms. He seems almost unbothered by the room being on fire -this is just more proof that he’s an actual little demon. Still, he’s standing a little too close to the flames for me to be comfortable, not that I could be with my actual house on fire. I bend down and lift him into my arms as he wraps his legs around my waist.

“Why the he-” I look at Tucker, “-heck should we do? Should we call the Fire Department or something?”

Felix is basically bent in half at this point, and I can’t tell if he’s struggling to breathe because of laughter or the fumes. It smells like burnt plastic and hair in here, and it’s starting to make me feel sick. The smoke is barely gathering at the ceiling curling like wispy fingers -the fire alarm would’ve probably gone off already if it had any batteries. I think Mom had asked me to change them out last week. Whoops.

“I don’t know. It doesn’t seem like it’s that bad,” Felix finally breathes wiping tears from his eyes. “Let’s just try and put it out I think Mom’ll be ten times more pissed if she came home to see firetrucks on the lawn.”

He’s started to blow at the fire and fan with his hands -which is the opposite of helping. Tucker watches our older brother for a second before copying him; grabbing his hands I pull him close and angle my body so he isn’t facing the flames anymore. They aren’t as big as I thought they would be and seem to be staying in one spot.

“We were bored,” Tucker drags out the word and wiggles out of my arms.

“You, uh, weren’t hanging out with us and then Tucker found fireworks in Paul’s office,” Felix is lifting the carpet off the ground and shaking it. He steps on the bits of charred rug fur that fall to the hardwood with his flip-flops.

“Daddy always hides stuff he doesn’t want us playing with in the bottom of his desk.”

I stare at my little brother and roll my eyes. Only Tucker could be the evil mastermind behind this, and I guess he really can’t read the sign Paul had put there. For a second, we’re all quiet, and the boys watch me like they were looking at a volcano about to blow. I can feel my eye start to twitch as it tends to do around them, and I open my mouth to yell when the curtains make a high-pitched squealing noise and pop again.

Right, imminent danger first. Kill brothers later.

“Felix, I don’t think the rugs on fire anymore,” he’s basically stomped the black plastic fibers flat.

“Mom’s going to kill us,” Felix says.

“More like she’s going to kill me – I’m supposed to be watching you two idiots,” I say wiping my hands on my shorts.

“What?” he throws his hands in the air. “I’m older than you. How does that make any sense?”

I look at him and point at the growing fire.

“She might not have said it specifically, but I think it was implied,” I sneer at him. “Doesn’t matter though, how’re we supposed to put this out?”

The room hasn’t started to get foggy like that one-time Paul forgot he’d put cookies in the oven, so I know it’s not too bad yet. Burning curtains still smell like ass and Tucker’s covering his nose and mouth with tiny hands.

The flames are slowly starting to lick up the sides of the curtains, and I don’t know what to do with fire. Water would be my answer, but I heard that there was some kind of fire that exploded when you put water on it? Is this that kind of fire? Do we have a fire extinguisher?

I guess I must’ve said that last one out loud because Felix rubs his neck and says, “Oh… I’ll go get it.”

“We don’t have one,” Tucker says from where he’s trying to open a window to air out the stick in the room.

He’s standing on his tiptoes and I go over to help him. I stand between him and the flames as we shove open the windows opposite them and push their curtains out of the danger zone. We stick our heads out and breathe in some fresh, summer air. I can see Mrs. McLeod pulling weeds from her flower beds.

“What?” Felix calls from the kitchen.

“We don’t have one,” I yell back. He asks why and I repeat the question to my little brother though he probably heard it.

“We used the last one up on the grill,” he says leaning farther out the window. “Daddy hasn’t got a new one yet.”

“Of course,” I roll my eyes and yell to Felix. “Paul forgot to get one.”

Felix doesn’t answer instead I hear clattering and the sink turning on. My eyes are starting to water and I should probably help them with the fire. I kick the rug from where it’s lying looking like burnt toast and grab a pillow from the couch to try and smother the leftover flames. I hit the pillow against the wall repeatedly, and each little glow from the curtains gains another smack.

It takes us what feels like hours, but was probably only a few minutes, to completely kill the flames. The floor and walls are soaked -the curtains look like seaweed from how dark they are from being burnt then drowned.

“We did it.” Felix lays on the wet ground spread out like a starfish, and Tucker settles on his stomach. I’m leaning against the doorway into the kitchen, and I want to cry. I’m going to bring up having a very strict No Fire rule to Mom and Paul.

Mom will be home with dinner in less than fifteen minutes, and I have no idea how to explain to her why the house smells like a human sacrifice or why the curtains are now black and sticking to each other. Tucker’s smearing ash on his face like war paint screaming like the demon he is and I don’t know what to say about that either. I don’t know if I want to blame it all on Felix, Tucker, or just say it’s my fault. Which it’s not.

I know in the end she’ll lay a hand on my shoulder and tell me that it’s fine. At least now we have a viable excuse to throw away the rest of the ugly curtains. Abuelita would’ve killed us if we had done it sooner. Mom’s always done her best: she helped me shave my head during Spring break, let me paint my room neon pink and then black a week later, she’s always supported me. This? This I don’t know how she’ll take it. She asked me to watch over the boys -make sure they didn’t get in trouble, and now our living room was on fire. The house is going to smell like smoke for months.

I can already see Paul’s face when he gets home later tonight from his weekly “work bonding” as he calls it. I call it an excuse to get drunk in a decent manner. He says he only does it out of obligation, and I never see him drink at home. He’ll peer at me over the thin frame of his glasses with that passive look on his face that makes me want to punch it in. He’ll put his arms around Tucker and wipe away the ash that’ll most likely still be there.

Paul gives looks I’d never see on my mom. Mom is all action and emotion -she’d never just shrug it off or look at me disapprovingly. She’ll tell me, all of us actually, to get our act together. She’ll look me in the eye like she’s done a thousand times before and say, “Kenzie, we have to do our best for our family, okay? They’re all we got sometimes.”

Paul just shakes his head and asks me to be a little more watchful next time, like it’s my fault his son found the matches.

Felix is trying to pull the smoking curtains from their hooks on the wall. They’re the kind that threads onto a metal pole so there’s no way he’s going to get them down like that.

“Felix, that’s not a good-”

With a snap and a yelp, the curtains, their metal pole, and my brother fall to the ground.

“-idea.”

There are holes in the plaster where the curtains used to hang. Great. Another thing I’ll have to explain to Mom.

Felix tosses the destroyed fabric off of him with a hiss. “Shit, that’s hot.”

“Dude, seriously? Can you ever just listen to me for once?” I say and my skin’s hot with rage. I can feel my cheeks flushing and my palms are sweating. I wipe them off again and put my hands on my head. I want my hair long again just so I can pull at it in frustration.

“What? I listen to you all the time-” Felix says as starts trying to pull the curtains apart.

“No. You don’t,” I interrupt. “I’m constantly cleaning up after your dumb ass and taking the blame and defending you from Mom.”

Felix grunts as he tugs at the plastic fibers of the curtains that have melded together into a black matted mess. I yank them from his hands and toss them onto the floor.

“You call this listening? Pay attention to me, dick.” His eyes are wide and he looks a little shocked, but I’m not stopping. “How could you think that playing with stuff literally on fire wasn’t going to end in a giant disaster?”

He opens his mouth, but all that comes out is a garble of sounds that kind of resembled an I don’t know. I groan loudly and slap my hands over my eyes.

“You’re such an idiot! You destroy everything you fucking touch, you never think things through, yet for some reason you expect everyone else to just deal. I’ll be shocked if you actually manage to graduate this year,” I’m yelling at this point, and I don’t uncover my eyes. I know if I do I’ll apologize right away.

“Dude-”

“I’ve stuck my neck out for you so often that now people automatically blame me for your shit,” I don’t mean it. I don’t. “I’m not even my own person anymore. I’m just Felix’s little sister who acts like his mom.”

“Kenzie-” I can hear him take a step, whether it be forward or back I couldn’t say.

“Can’t you just act like my big brother for once?” my voice cracks at the end.

The room is quiet besides a soft sniffling. I uncover my face and Felix’s eyes are hard, but he’s not crying. Tucker stands by a half-open window with glassy eyes and he rubs his nose with the back of his hand. I didn’t realize he was still there.

“Don’t yell at him,” he says so quietly I almost didn’t catch it. He looks smaller than he usually does; frail and thin between the black burn marks on the wall.

“No, it’s okay,” Felix says and motions for me to continue. “Keep going if that’s what you need right now.”

“Sorry?”

“Tuck and I noticed how angry you’ve been lately-”

“We were lighting the fireworks to cheer you up,” Tucker says kicking at the toasted rug with his slipper. “You always laugh when we do dumb things.”

“So, yell at me if it gets it out of your system,” Felix leans down and finally pulls the curtains off the metal. “I know I’m a horrible big brother so keep going.”

Tears spring to my eyes and I pinch my eyebrows together. Don’t tell me. I shouldn’t have yelled at him like that.

“I didn’t mean it,” I say but I can tell he doesn’t believe me. It’s written all over his face.

“C’mon, Kenzie you just said it yourself.” Felix flicks his eyes up to meet mine. “I mess up on a daily basis, and you’re always the one to clean it up.”

“Shut up.” I fall to my knees and start crumpling the curtains together. I don’t want to talk about this. Not now. Probably not for a while.

“Kenzie, you really don’t need to look out for me.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I snap meeting my brother’s eyes with a firm glare.

He puts his hands up in a show of surrender and we fall into silence. Tucker’s still sniffling in the corner and I heave a sigh.

“C’mere,” I open my arms to him and he runs to fall into them, “Thank you for trying to cheer me up.”

He wraps his arms around my neck and I place a kiss on his nose. It’s small, flat, and upturned at the end -it’s the only feature all of us share with our mom. I put my face in his curly hair and breathe deep. My limbs are stiff and heavy, and I put a lot of my weight onto my younger brother -I guess my living room being on fire was more stressful than I thought. I hear the smack of Felix’s flip-flops against the floor, they’re the only shoes he wears and out of choice too, before his back is resting against mine. His tank top is wet from the floor, and it’s kind of gross. I don’t say anything.

“Whew,” he sighs. “Did that manage to clear your head a little, sister?”

“What? Almost burning the house down or yelling at you for your existence?” I chuckle softly.

“Both?”

I snort and shake my head. “It did, but only because I had to focus on not dying. Being able to finally tell you off was just a plus.”

“Yeah, not our best idea. Huh, Tuck?”

Tucker just sniffles loud and gross into my neck as his answer.

“Next time, we’ll just take you out for sushi,” Felix says reaching behind him to pat my head at an awkward angle.

“We should really clean this up before Mom gets home,” I say.

“What time is it, anyway?”

The front door slams shut and we all stiffen. We all hold our breath and wait in complete silence till I hear our mom’s voice, deep and steady like the ocean, echo through the house.

“Is something burning?”