We lived in a small town that sits on the Virginia/Tennessee border, Bristol, (A Good Place to Live) as the sign says. And the house my dad bought was full to the brim with amazing things. Items like Tools, guns, Bazooka Ammo from WWII and a few grenades. This house had it all. Under the stairs the previous owner had a beer collection that dated to the 1901 world’s fair! I had discovered the jackpot though, while rifling through the stuff in the basement one day, I found a massive popcorn tin, meticulously placed inside of it, tips all facing heaven ward, I had found tens of thousands of matches. Yes, the minute I had a moment to myself, these matches were to make an appearance.
I got my chance a few days later, the Friday date night. Kisses and hugs and directions on heating up dinner had been given. Parents gone for at least 25 minutes, so as to ensure they had arrived at the restaurant. Sisters watching a movie, check. Kid brother on basement stairs posted as lookout, check. Retrieved matches from shelf, check. Yes this idea was so close to fruition, and I still hadn’t figured out how I wanted to burn them all.
I had a striker from a box of matches, and my brother and I had lit a few dozen, and had noticed that the more you light at the same time the bigger the flame. Nothing out of control, but a burst none the less. This sparked the idea in my head, what if I lit them all at once! Think of its Thousands of matches going off in unison! It was to be glorious, grabbing the brother we swept the floor around the tin so as not to catch anything on fire, you know for safety. The Oil furnace sitting right next to me or the 100 year old wood floor right above me, well those had not crossed my 12 year old mind. In hindsight man this was dangerous.
The moment had come though, and the countdown began. 3...2...1... I dropped the one single lit match. You know those moments in your life when you do something and then immediately realize it wasn’t such a great idea.... and then realize it was a disaster of an idea. Ya, this was one of those moments. As the match hit the field of red match heads and they all simultaneously combusted and the next level and the next level, and the entire tin erupted into flame. Shooting up a flame taller than me, and blasting the ceiling/floor above me, leaving a huge blackened spot on the wood.
The next thing my mind noticed was the massive amount of smoke made by this experiment, and it wasn’t dissipating. I also noticed my sisters had left their movie and had been at the top of the stairs watching me, who now informed me, "I'm telling Mommy!" What an expected response, this is why I chose to do this without them nearby, I ran up after them to convince them not to tattle, but, by the time I reached the top of the stairs, who should come in the door but the same parents I needed to convince the girls to not tell what had transpired downstairs.
**** Side note, How do parents know when to come home, I swear it’s like they know something is not right, and come home right when you don’t need them there.****
"AUSTIN LIT THE HOUSE ON FIRE!" Way to be subtle about it... the exclamations made my dad rushed downstairs to discover my younger brother still in the basement with the even bigger cloud of smoke now formed in the air. I decided to accept the punishment, which was excessive in my mind. I mean I didn’t actually burn anything down, the house didn’t explode and no one was hurt. This defense fell on silent ears as the jury and judge of my parents doled out the guilty verdict and the maximum punishment allowed by law in the house. I know my bum sure felt like hellfire and brimstone once it was over, and I never lit a match again.... that week.
Hope today’s a good one,
austininva
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