Fire

I was sitting at the table in the caretaker's house, chopping vegetables for lunch. A pot of beans was cooking on our little gas stove in the room behind me. The boys-Alex, Jackson, and John, were farther out in the jungle, working on our house.

Suddenly I heard a large gasp of fire. I whipped around and saw that the stove, the pot, and the whole gas tank were enveloped in blue flames, three or four feet high above the counter. I jumped to my feet and grabbed the five gallon bucket of water I had just carried from the well.

Carlos and Javier had heard the roar and came running from their rooms, wide eyed. Nine year old Carlos saw the fire and fled out the front door.

I hoisted up the bucket of water above my shoulder and dashed the contents across the flames. It had no effect whatsoever. I glanced at the thin wooden boards right behind the stove and knew my time was running out.

"More water!" I screamed at Javier. I doused the fire with the plastic bin of dish water, then with another five gallon bucket from the caretaker's kitchen. Nothing. Still the flames lept higher, while I, and the rest of the tiny kitchen, was soaked.

At that moment I somehow had the presence of mind to reach into the fire and turn the lever on the gas tank. I burned the bottom of my arm, but gasped a breath of relief as the fire coughed, sputtered, and died.

I turned around to look at Javier, his eyes brimming with terror. "It's okay," I told him, trying to be confident, "No more fire."

As I walked quickly back to our houses to get the boys for a situation assessment, I marveled at the fact that I had thought to turn the gas switch off at all. I have very little experience with or knowledge of gas stoves, and no person in their right mind would plunge their arm into such flames. Also, at the time I thought the gas was seeping out of a leak in the tank. If that had been the case, turning the switch would probably not have made much difference.

Alex and I inspected the stove a few minutes later. We found that a large hole had burst in the connection tubing, and the fire source was actually in between the tank and the stove.

Javier said, "A few moments more and the tank would have exploded, it would not have been able to handle the heat."

Jackson said, "I call a time-out from cooking."

He looked at our sad, charred, sopping wet kitchen, "Let's go to Campo Verde and eat at a menu for lunch."

Carlos came creeping into the house and I hugged him. "Thanks be to God for his protection!" I told him.

I think maybe his heart was pounding even faster than mine.