Summary: A story about a family that catches fire in the sun
Joanna remembers vividly the moment her daughter burned alive. It was a hot September day in Illinois. School had just started a few weeks ago but the summer heat still lingered, even as the leaves began to color with sunset hues of yellow and orange.
The AC was broken, so she suggested the kids set up the inflatable pool in the backyard to cool off. Jackson and Jennifer wore matching striped bathing suits, Jennifer’s with added ruffles at the straps and bottom, and Carla wore a new electric blue bikini she bought with her friends at the mall.
Joanna sat back in her folding chair and scrunched her nose when she saw Carla’s outfit. “Do you really need to be wearing that? It’s just me and the littles back here.”
Carla rolled her eyes. “God forbid I want to wear something that doesn’t make me look twelve.”
Joanna bit her tongue from from a scolding reply. Ever since Carla started high school it had been like this—push boundaries, wait for Joanna to protest and then blow up as if it was a problem that had always been simmering under the surface.
Instead Joanna frowned and fanned out her Cosmo magazine. “Just turn off the hose once the pool is filled.”
She didn’t see Carla roll her eyes again, but she might as well have when she heard her exasperated sigh. There was a splash followed by a squeal as Jackson and Jennifer jumped into the water. The Boys of Summer played on the boombox next to her, intruding on the chorus of cicadas that sang nonstop.
Remember how you made me crazy
Remember how I made you scream
Joanna snorted at the lyrics that hit too close to home, even if it were out of context. Her mind wandered as she skimmed sections about igniting old flames and how friends make the best lovers. She set the magazine aside when she got to the joys of supporting a husband, wondering, not for the first time, if she had grown too old and jaded to relate to it anymore.
Jackson lifted the hose from the pool and began lapping the water like a hamster. Jennifer giggled and copied him, always needing to follow her twin brother’s lead. There was a tinny squeak and the hose sputtered to stop. Jackson frowned and stared down from his chin, the hose pointing upwards for inspection. Suddenly a burst of water blasted him in the face, and Joanna whipped around to see Carla with a wide grin before turning the hose back off.
“Carla!”
Jackson blinked back his surprise before he scrunched up his face and wailed.
Joanna went over and lifted him from the pool just as Carla approached.
“Was that really necessary?” She snapped.
“He’s such a baby,” Carla scoffed. “When I was in first grade, I didn’t even cry when I scrapped my knee. Now he gets a little water up his nose and it’s the end of the world?”
“That is not the point, the point is you—” Joanna’s words died in her throat as her eyes wondered to the top of Carla’s head. Little white puffs of clouds were spiraling from her hair. No, not clouds—smoke.
Carla’s glare turned to a frown as her mother’s anger shifted to worry. “What?”
“Carla, are you feeling hot? You look like you’re steaming.”
“No, I feel fi—”
It was that quick. One second Carla stood there, arms crossed with a faltering scowl, and the next she was nothing but a wall of flames.
It took Joanna nearly five seconds to register what was happening, blinking back her stupor as her mind short circuited. It took Carla only one to start screaming in agony.
“Carla!” Joanna shrieked. She dropped Jackson, who, already growing too large to be lifted, landed on his feet and backed away in fear. Joanna grabbed her daughter’s arms and shoved her in the kitty pool. Jennifer yelped and ran away, standing beside her brother near the edge of the lawn. The sun had started to dip, casting the unfolding scene in a red tinted glow.
To Joanna’s horror, the water did nothing to sedate the growing fire that was her daughter. It bubbled and steamed up as soon as she was thrown in the pool, and the plastic sides popped instantly from the sudden heat, releasing the trapped water into the ground. The air was now a mixture of steam and smoke, blinding her, but she knew Carla was still on fire because the screaming never stopped.
Carla could do nothing but scream as her flesh started to peel, as the fire licked at her exposed skin and delved deeper. There were no words, words meant nothing now. Even as she tried to scream smoke filled her lungs, helping the fire set her ablaze inside and out.
Joanna whipped her head back to the petrified five-year-olds standing by the fence.
“The phone!” She screamed. “Get the phone and call 911!”
For once Jennifer acted first. She sprinted to the kitchen and yanked the phone from the cord, dialing 911.
“Help!” she cried, as soon as she heard the click on the other end. “My sister is on fire!”
Carla toppled to the ground and moaned as Joanna frantically whipped at the flames with a beach towel. It was futile, deep down she knew it was, but even when faced with her own helplessness she couldn’t give in, couldn’t stop beating the fire even as the towel caught flames as well. Sirens could be heard in the distance, but it was too late.
Just as suddenly as the fire had come on, it ended when the sun dipped below the horizon. Joanna’s hands were shaking and raw as she stepped back, heaving. Carla was charred nearly head to toe, and the parts that weren’t completely charred looked like rotten flesh.
She knelt in front of her daughter, her shaking hands hovering over her body, not wanting to touch her skin in fear of hurting her more and, though she could barely admit it to herself, out of disgust.
“Carla,” She cried. “Carla, baby, can you hear me?”
One of her tears fell onto a blackened arm and she heard a soft whimper. Her daughter was alive, miraculously alive. But the wave of relief that came crashing down was quickly followed by the horror of what had happened. Carla’s long, chestnut hair was no more, and her eyes looked as if they had melted. On her extremities, bits of ebony peaked out like gleaming pearls in the wreckage; the fire had reached to the bone. For a split-second Joanna wished her daughter had died.
The firemen came first, followed by the paramedics. With no fire to put out the firemen tried in other ways to make themselves useful, leading the twins away with the promise of treats to take their eyes off what became of their sister and hovering over Carla’s body as if in vigil. Soft swears and words to god were spoken in hushed tones under their breath.
The paramedics did not so much as glance at Joanna before loading Carla on a stretcher, yelling codes and medical words that sounded like a foreign language as they wheeled her away.
“Ma’am?”
Joanna flinched as a hand rested on her shoulder, snapping her back to where she was, back to this nightmare reality.
“Carla! Where are they taking my daughter?” She tried to get up but fell back on her knees, her legs shaking too much to support her.
“To the closest hospital,” the paramedic gently replied. “And then hopefully to John Hopkins once she stabilizes. We can take you to her but we need to treat you first.”
“Treat me?”
“Your hands ma’am, you suffered third degree burns.”
Joanna looked down and saw that her palms and the inside of her fingers had the same rotten look as Carla’s least burnt places.
“Please ma’am, this way. Are you hurt anywhere else? Can you tell me how this happened?”
“I-I don’t know,” she choked down a sob. “She was just playing with her siblings, we were just outside, she walked over, and, and—” Joanna began to dry heave.
The paramedic—a burly man with a trimmed beard, murmured something in his walkie talkie and then helped Joanna stand, letting her lean onto him for support.
His mouth was moving, he was speaking words to her, but she couldn’t hear anything past the blood rushing through her ears.
To be continued…