Fire as Verb and Noun

Fire as Verb and Noun

"Working from a carefully developed understanding of his place
in an oppressed culture, (Alexie) focuses on the need to tear
down obstacles before nature tears them down. Fire is therefore
a central metaphor: a sister and brother-in-law killed, a burnt
hand, cars aflame."
-----Publisher's Weekly

"Sherman, I'm sorry your sister was killed by a metaphor"
-----Donna Beach

1.

Fire, then
turn the page and

2.

more fire.

3.

I know only a little about it:

fire.

There is something about the color
of the flames that can reveal
what chemicals fuel the fire.

I remember that simple fact.

What color are the flames that rise
off a burning body?

What color were the flames that rose
off my sister's and brother-in-law's bodies?

If they were the same color
does that mean they loved each other?

If they were different
does that mean they were soon to be divorced?

Maybe I should strike a match
to my skin and use the light
to search for the perfect woman
and hold her tightly
against my flames until

4.

she collapses into ash.

5.

If I were, let's say, to come across a burning house
on the way back home from the supermarket

could I change the color of the flames
if I emptied the contents of my shopping bags

onto the blaze? Would the firemen run from hydrant
to hydrant and dodge Golden Delicious apples

while the station house Dalmation licked
the puddles of Pepsi as the old white man

cursed me for wasting the food
which could feed all of the Third World?

So many questions
and then a Holocaust here, a Holocaust there

6.

a Holocaust everywhere.

7.

Let's say I am a Jew.
I am a Jew
who lost a sister and a brother-in-law
in the ovens
during World War II. No, let's say

I am an American
Indian who had heated bayonets
held against his hands
until they blistered
and blossomed open. No, let's say

this all happened to me
because I can't tell the difference
between the size of a metaphor
and the temperature
of the flame. No, let's say

I only believe in two metaphors:
God and God
as the Burning Bush
which uses our questions
like kindling.

8.

On the application for a driver's license, they will ask you this:
What do you do, as you are driving down the freeway toward a car
aflame with the passenger still trapped inside, when a flicker of
insecurity becomes a sudden roar inside you and convinces you
there is somebody driving behind you who is much more deserving
of saving a life?

9.

a. You drive past the burning car to the next exit, pull into
the closest parking lot, and weep violently.

b. You stop the car, open your door, roll to the pavement, and
wave your arms wildly, as if you were a small bird too small
for flight.

c. You call your mother on your cellular phone and blame her
for everything that's gone wrong in your life.

d. You search the radio stations for news of the next solar
eclipse.

10.

e. None of the above.

11.

What do you do
when your sister burns
like a bad firework?

She sparks
and sputters
smokes uselessly

and leaves
only a shell
a husk

and the smell
and the smell
and the smell and

12.

it smells exactly like what it is.

13.

There is a grave on the Spokane Indian Reservation
where my sister is buried. I can take you there.


Sherman Alexie..........from The Summer of Black Widows