Enciende el fuego antes de verlo arder.
If my life had a soundtrack it would be the snap, crackle, and pops of a hungry inferno. My theme song the boom of an explosion going off in the background. The opening scene of my story would be the world swallowed by a crimson tide.
Fire is awesome. Since I can remember I’ve always loved the red and orange flames that greedy devoured everything that stood in its path. Fire didn’t care about who it hurt. The flames were wild and free. They went where they wanted and no one could stop them.
I remember the day everything changed for me. Mr. Clark stood at the front of the class as I bounced my leg, waving my hand madly. I knew the puta saw me but just didn’t want to call on me.
It was a day to day struggle with Mr. Clark. Since my older brothers came through his class he had decided that all Feliciano were the same. I was bad news in his eyes before we even met just because who my family was. Of course, I did my best to live up to my brother’s legend. I would be lying if I didn’t admit to taking a twisted joy in causing Mr. Clark a bit of hell.
“Me. Me. Me! ¡Elégeme, hijo de puta!” I screamed jumping up and down out of my chair.
“Lucas!” Mr. Clark yelled. He was only acknowledging me now because I said a bad word. It was always a quick way to get his attention.
The added bonus was that the rest of the class giggled most of them knowing what puta means by now. At the start of the year, I had made it my job to teach the class every swear word I knew in Spanish. Thanks to my Pa it was a lot.
Mr. Clark was going red in the face. I think I saw a few more strands of hair float from his ever-growing bald spot and blew away in the wind. His patchy skin always reminded me of bad cheese. He was round and short and always smelled like pickles. His green eyes bored into me as if he could will me to obey with just his thoughts.
“I want a turn,” I challenged the old man. “You already picked everyone else.” The kids in class giggled again. They always liked a Lucas, Clark showdown and once a day they always got one. Today I was in rare form because I was excited about the project he had asked us to complete. I had worked on it all night and now Mr. Clark was going through everyone skipping over me even though my hand has been in the air all day.
“Fine,” Mr. Clark caved. “Come present, Lucas What do you want to be when you grow up.” I watched the old teacher roll his eyes even as I gathered my things. I skipped to the front of the class waving at my friends that gave me a silent cheer. They all knew that whenever I was at the front of the class there was going to be something entertaining happening.
“When I grow up,” I started taking a lighter I stole from my eldest brother from my pocket, “I want to be fire!” I told my classmates flicking the lighter on so the flames could jump to life.
There was some Ooo’s, and aw’s from the class as we all watched the flame dance at the tip of the lighter. My eyes following the flame for a moment before Mr. Clark cut through my thoughts and presentation.
“Go sit down, Lucas.” Mr. Clark said but I was shaking my head.
“I’m not done. Fire is amazing.” I told the class and they were at the edge of their seats listening to me. “It can destroy anything and anyone. I want to be just like fire wh—”
“I said sit down!” Mr. Clark yelled. “You’ve wasted enough of the class time.” My brows pulled down with his comment. I hadn’t wasted anyone time.
No one said anything when he let Lucy stand in front of the class and ramble about being a lawyer like her fat mother for a good twenty minutes. Everyone was yawning and ready to go to sleep when Davy talked about how he wanted to be a vet so that his dog never get sick again. At least the class was interested in my report. I was the only one who brought a prop with me as well.
“I’m not moving,” my voice was low and clear.
“You will return to your seat Mr. Feliciano.” Mr. Clark’s voice was a growl. Anytime he called me by my last name he thought that was supposed to get me under control. Next, he would threaten to call my mother.
“I ain’t done yet,” I told him and the old man grabbed my arm. I let out a scream when he touched me yanking away from him. Instead of going back to my seat I threw myself at the fat slob. My body slammed into his making him stumble back. Mr. Clark lost his balance going down and hitting his head on the corner of his desk.
I sat down on top of him punching and scratching at his face. A pool of thick red liquid was slowly spreading across the floor under Mr. Clark’s head. The other students started to scream. Someone ran out the class but I didn’t care about my classmates at the moment. They could go tell if they wanted to. It wouldn’t be the first time I was in trouble.
“Burn. Burn. ¡Quemar!” I screamed at Mr. Clark. He was just laying under me. He didn’t move or fight back. He was still and for the first time silent as I continued my assault against him.
Arms wrapped around my middle yanking me off of Mr. Clark and pulling me back. I struggled against the hold trying to break free. I wasn’t done with him yet. They couldn’t stop me.
I am fire.
“¡Quemar! ¡Quemar! ¡Quemar!” I screamed and was released as whoever had me hissed out in pain. I rushed back to Mr. Clark taking my lighter back as Mrs. Ford, our principal, came into the room. Mr. Smith, the gym teacher, was holding his arm backing out of the room. He must have been the one that had pulled me off of Mr. Clark.
“Lucas,” Mrs. Ford called my name. Her voice was calm and even. “Do we need to call your mother?” She asked and I flicked the lighter on. The flame at the edge danced around. I ignored Mrs. Ford watching the light. Most of my classmates were still in their seats. Some of them were crying, a lot of their eyes were glued to me.
“Lucas . . . Lucas . . .” Mrs. Ford was calling me but I was staring into the flames. It danced, wigging as the flame grew stronger and stronger. When I grow up I want to be like fire. I want to dance wild and free. I want to grow and grow until no one can contain me.
The flames nipped at my finger and I dropped the lighter. It fell down on top of Mr. Clark. His shirt caught fire right away. The greedy flame raced along his body and leaped up towards the teacher’s desk.
“Out! Everyone out!” Mrs. Ford was yelling and my classmates were running out the room. Joseph stopped beside me pulling on the sleeve of my shirt.
“Fire, Lucas.” Joseph, my best friend, told me and my lips pulled into a smile as the smoke and flames spread through the room. There was no reason this fire should have been moving the way it did. There had been nothing for it to catch a hold of and fuel its flame.
This fire seemed to have a personal grudge against this classroom. As if it hated Mr. Clark and his things as much as I did. The fire will and my will was one and the same. We both wanted to destroy the old man and everything he stood for.
“Isn’t it pretty, Joseph.” I grabbed my friend’s hand keeping him beside me. We stood in a ring of fire as the flames danced around us.
“We have to run,” Joseph was pulling at me but I didn’t move. The fire licked at my arm but it didn’t hurt when it touched me. Heavy dark smoke filled the room and the alarms were ringing but I didn’t move.
“I am fire,” I whispered as I watched the flames. Listening to its hungry roar as it raged around me. Joseph pulled at me before he started to cough.
“Lucas . . .” Joseph whispered falling down to his knees as he choked on the smoke. “Lucas . . . help . . .” my friend begged me.
Blinking I pulled my eyes away from the flames. Joseph needed help. Joseph was hurt. I looked towards the window and there was a large BOOM. The window and wall blowing outwards at the same time.
Those who had left the building already screamed as brick and drywall blew into the parking lot at them. I grabbed Joseph pulling him throw the flames and out the opening that was made.
We were lucky Mr. Clark room was on the first floor. Otherwise, I wasn’t sure if I could have helped my friend. Outside there was police, firemen, and ambulance already on the scene. The adults rushed over to help Joseph and I turned around to look at the school.
“Wow,” I breathed out as more windows blew out and the more derby rained down. The whole building was on fire. The flames were so beautiful as it ate away at the eyesore.
Someone grabbed me. Something cold and hard was slapped around my wrist. Mrs. Ford was pointing at me. She was telling the cops I was the one who started the fire.
And that’s when my life changed forever.