Fire Man

 

It was shortly after the Second War,

The rubble lay in heaps,

The bombs no longer dropped,

But where they had was bombed for keeps!

The lads ran wild in the undergrowth

That had been a stately home,

And gangs laid claim to the sacred turf

That they liked to call their own.

 

The gang of Harriman Somers claimed

An isolated patch,

Complete with an air raid shelter with

A concrete roof to match,

From up there, high on the roof they spied

The whole of the country wide,

To warn of approaching rival gangs

They posted guards outside.

 

When Raymond Kirk came wandering

On home through the bridle track,

The 'Razors' saw their chance to vent

Their anger on a 'Drak',

They seized him there, and bound him up,

And threw him on the pile

Of dry, and flammable tinder wood

They'd saved up for a while.

 

But there beside the shelter wall,

An unexploded bomb,

Was lying on its side, they'd claimed it,

Lying on its own.

When Harriman lit the tinder wood

And Raymond screamed in turn,

The 'Razors' laughed and taunted him,

They said: 'You're gonna burn!'

 

The fire spread to the shelter and

That one incendiary

Exploded, showering phosphorus

Across from fire to tree,

The 'Razors' fled in their burning clothes,

They left young Kirk to his cries,

He spent a year in the hospital

With flames behind his eyes.

 

At home he sat in a wheelchair with

A hundred grafts of skin,

His hands were runny like plasticene

His legs were scarred and thin,

For five long years he waited there,

He learned to walk, and then

He took to strolling on through the woods

To ease his mind of pain.

 

The summer of '51 was hot,

The country was in drought,

Flames were seen in the woods whenever

Kirk came wandering out,

The 'Razor' gang were now young men,

With girlfriends, some with wives,

They'd all forgotten the burning, but

That fire would rule their lives.

 

A car went up in a blaze one night,

A 'Razor' member's pride,

And only once they had put it out

Did they find the corpse inside.

It was Dicky Johns, (who had found the bomb),

They had to go by his teeth,

His fellow 'Razors' crossed themselves,

It was - 'Rather him than me!'

 

Then Andy Craig, his terraced house

Went up before the dawn,

The flames were seen three streets away,

They found him on the lawn.

He'd fallen out of the window, all

Ablaze, like a glowing torch,

His wife's remains, when they smashed the door

Fell out on the tiled porch.

 

And through the crowd, at every fire

One face was seen to glide,

For Raymond Kirk turned up to grin

At the bodies, burned inside,

And then, while he was walking home

He'd touch a hedge or brush,

And a flame would spurt from his fingertips

To ignite a burning bush.

 

At Harriman Somers' wedding, Kirk

Watched moodily, the bride,

He waited until they were good and drunk

Then forced his way inside,

She looked so fine in her wedding dress,

All virgin white, and lace,

He'd wait 'til Harriman turned his back

And then he'd seek her face!

 

He asked her to dance, so radiant,

She smiled at his crippled hands,

She wanted to be so kind to him,

Was this one of Harriman's friends?

When Somers saw who had twirled her round

To the music, he went pale!

He held his breath, but the dance of death

Would end his fairytale.

 

Kirk had stopped, he held the dancer's

Hands above her head,

He stood quite still, but held her 'til

Her soul was filled with dread,

But then he called out loud and clear,

'Remember? It's my turn!

You told me once, now I'm telling you,

Your bride is gonna burn!'

 

The bride then suddenly opened up

Her mouth, and gave a roar,

As flames burst out from her throat

And burned her dress, and singed her hair.

Then Kirk stood back as she swiftly turned

To a torch of instant flame,

While Somers screamed to his burning love,

And called out Raymond's name!

 

'Fire Man! The Fire Man! It's him,

Just bring him down!'

The crowd seized hold of him by his hair

And dragged him to the ground,

They threw him into the garden pool

And held his body down,

Though a flame flared under the water still

'Til Raymond Kirk had drowned.

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[Norma J. Jessee]

What an incredible story of revenge run amuke. And your famous twist
at the end that I love about your writing. You did an incredible job with
this one David but there has never been any doubt in my mind that you
would ever do less. The victim has his revenge but then revenge finds him.
As Mark said hate's horse is bigger, and will always win in the end.
Sorry I have been away from your writing for so long. I have missed it sooooo
much, and it looks like you have been busy and I will have plenty of great
stories to catch up on.

[Tate Morgan]

Oh that was great

[Lena M. P.]

What a very dark story of the endless circle of hate and retribution. To true in too many instances of life. Well done.

[Jessica]

this was great kept my interest at all times and near the end it was unexpected! and it flows soo well!

[Mark]

Incredible job, David! I'm just speechless, and that doesn't happen often. If here is a lesson to be had here, it is not to let your hate run roughshod over you. Hate's horse is bigger, and will always win at the last.