“What’s that?” Diane asked. We awoke to two pulsing, piercing sounds. At first I thought, construction equipment. Then it dawned.

“It’s the fire alarm.” Naked, I stumbled to our bedroom door, not yet conscious enough to dread what might be on the other side. I opened it to see the hallway filled with smoke. Matt’s bedroom, normally sealed like a bank vault behind a closed door, was nothing but smoke. I felt like a threatened reptile. “Fire, Get Out,” I screamed.

From downstairs, Matt’s voice, “Dad, I’ve got it covered.” Immediately, my lizard brain switched from call 911, grab the G5 and run, to, it’s all gonna be okay. Matt is safe and alive, and he’s in control, as he had been when he dodged the panel truck in his BMW. That single answer, in spite of what appeared to be our house burning down, soothed me.

Diane followed me out of the bedroom, ran downstairs and outside to see Drew, transfixed by the mattress bonfire. I felt my way into Matt’s bedroom and climbed up his ladder to the loft. The carpet glowed like pine needles caught just outside a campfire ring, and his down comforter, in flames, beckoned for marshmallows. I grabbed the burning blanket and as Matt entered the room, I threw it down at him and screamed, “I thought you had it covered!”

Matt flew down the stairs with the feathers on fire, and out the front door. Later that morning, I’ll follow those feathers thinking a coyote must have caught a goose and dragged it to our backyard. Later that night, we’ll have dinner with Matt and Joe and I’ll ask Matt, “What did you mean by ëI have it covered?’ To me, that meant everything’s okay, don’t call the fire department, I’ve got it under control. “

“No, dad. I think I meant that we’re down here with the mattress, and the house is on fire.”

Addendum:

I’ve fantasized about saving lives all of my life. I never have. In fact, I may have helped some along to the other side. Matthew, who appears all too grounded in reality, may have saved Drew’s, his, and ours in that order.