The Fire This Time
“God gave Noah the rainbow sign, No more water, the fire next time”
Epigraph from James Baldwin’s classic, quoting "Mary Don't You Weep.”
This is going to sound worse than it really was.
Or maybe, it is what it is.
When I was 8, I begged my mom to let me light the jack-o-lantern we carved for Halloween. It was a small pumpkin from the supermarket, and we gave it round holes for eyes, a square opening for the nose, and a tricky toothsome smile.
Momma said it was too dangerous for me to stick my fingers through the top hole of the pumpkin, to light the kitchen candle we’d stuck inside.
I guess I protested or whined; I don’t remember.
I remember she said, “Fine, then, you go ahead.”
She guided my hand with the lit match into the pumpkin, and the flame leapt up to scorch my thumb.
I screamed bloody murder, and she held me there for a second before she pulled my hand out.
“Now, you see that?”
My thumb tip was black.