This is from the prologue of my book, "Mythomania: A Psychodrama." There is more to this than I could relate in the book. Even though I didn't start the fire, I got a $350 ticket from the sheriff's department for lighting a fire the DAY BEFORE! That's right. In Wisconsin, cops have to arrest or issue a ticket to at least one person whenever there is a 9-1-1 call. So if they can't find a good reason, they make one up. This requirement is a consequence of the "Violence Against Women Act" and underscores how good intentions often have bad consequences. That is the nature of laws. And politics.
PROLOGUE
The Midwest was in the middle of a heat wave and drought that Independence Day. It was so hot and dry that our Township banned outdoor fires on the 3rd. The closest large municipality, Milwaukee, set a record high of 102º Fahrenheit on the Fourth. I was inside our Mansion on A Hill in my recliner drinking a cold Diet Mountain Dew when I heard a loud rush of noise, comparable to a speeding semi-truck passing in the opposite direction, except it was constant and getting louder. I looked out of the kitchen window and saw that the chicken coop was on fire. I yelled for my wife Angie to call 9-1-1 and I rushed to put it out.
The coop is so far from the house that the two connected hoses ended about 15-20 feet from the fire. Yelling over the roar of the fire I shouted to our son Ben to grab the hose-end nozzle and throw it to me. I was downhill from the house and saw Angie put the other two children Jon and Savannah, into our S.U.V. which was partway down the driveway. She then shouted something to Ben who had picked up the nozzle to throw to me. He dropped it on the ground. When he turned from his mother to face me, he shrugged his shoulders and started walking towards the vehicle. I yelled again for him to throw me the nozzle. He stopped, looked at me, and then faced Angie who said something to him. He started for the S.U.V.
In unbelieving desperation I turned back towards the fire which was so hot that I had to back up a few paces. Placing my right thumb over the end of the hose, I tried to create a stream forceful enough to reach the coop. It was hopeless. Goodwife Angela convinced Ben to abandon me in the midst of an emergency. Later that day, after they took off for God knows where, she told him something that was confusing and schizophrenic-like in its reasoning. She told him that he was a “Hero.”
