Fire Day

 

            Denise pushed the branches away from her face as she ran through the woods. This was the long way home, but she’d had a horrible day and didn’t want to be around anyone else. Tears threatened to spill out as she tried not to think about what had happened at school.

            She barely held back a sob as she thought about Rico and her ruined art project. How could someone be so cruel? She’d spent hours on her self-portrait with pastels and colored pencils. It had only taken Rico two seconds to set it on fire.

            Denise shook her head, trying to clear it of the awful scene. Mr. Fredericks hadn’t believed her when she told him what happened. Now she had to start all over, and she would only receive half credit for turning it in late.

            A groan escaped from her lips. Rico was beyond horrible. Why did he have a lighter at school in the first place? A whiff of smoke caught Denise’s attention, and she nearly stumbled over an exposed tree root. Quickly recovering, she saw a small fire directly on the path ahead of her.

            Her mouth dry, she could hardly think what to do. She grabbed her water bottle before she realized it was empty. Why was fire ruining her life today?

            Before she could do anything else, the fire suddenly burned itself out and she cautiously approached the circular blackened area. Right in the middle of the destruction, where the fire must have burned the hottest, was a tiny baby bird. It flapped its bare wings weakly and let out a tiny, exhausted squawk.

            Denise fell to her knees as tears finally spilled from her eyes. This was too much. How could this bird have survived? Where was its mother? She looked above her, expecting to see the nest that the poor thing had fallen out of, but the only thing she saw was clear blue sky.

            Fumbling through her coat pockets, she finally found her mittens and put them on. Slowly, she leaned forward and gently picked up the bird. The least she could do was get it away from where the fire had been. The poor bird was weak and barely moving. More of her tears fell and landed on the bird’s bare skin with a hiss as steam rose up.

            How could she leave this bird here now? What was she going to do? She squeezed her eyes shut as she tried to think. Nothing came to her and she sighed as she opened her eyes and looked at the helpless baby bird in her hand.

            She was startled to see that there were now tiny red and orange feathers covering its little body. Hadn’t it been completely bare before? But wait! As she watched, the bird lifted up its head and looked right at her with one golden eye. It didn’t look to be as weak as she had imagined, and there was intelligence in that eye.

            While she continued to stare at the bird, it started to grow. She swore it had only been the size of a golf ball before, but now it filled her hands. The red and orange feathers stretched and lengthened, and her hands were getting really warm.

            Denise didn’t know what to do. What was happening to this bird? Suddenly, the now handsome bird spread its wings and flew high up into the air. With her mouth gaping, she watched it until a brilliant flash of light forced her to look away. Momentarily blinded, she blinked furiously as she searched for where the bird had gone.

            There it was! It seemed to be coming back down, but was this the same bird? Its wings were enormous and the beautiful red and orange plumage made it almost look like it was on fire. Her eyes widened as it came in and landed directly on her shoulder.

            Hardly daring to breathe, she received another shock when it actually spoke to her. “Thank you for your kind concern,” it said as it unmistakably bowed its head.

            After she nearly jumped out of her skin, Denise managed to stammer, “Y-y-you’re welcome.”

            The bird tilted its head as it studied her. “What is your name?”

            “Denise,” she said weakly.

            “It is nice to meet you.” The bird nodded its head to her. “My name is Fiercefire. Because of your generosity, I was able to reach my adult form quickly.”

            Denise had no idea what to say. What had she done, exactly?

            Fiercefire answered her unspoken question. “Your tears were full of genuine compassion. Because of that, I name you a phoenix friend. If you ever need my help, you have but to ask.” Without another word, the great bird flew away and disappeared into the trees.

            Denise stood staring at the spot where he had disappeared. Was he really a phoenix? Were phoenixes real? She didn’t know how long she stood there, trying to figure out what had happened. It wasn’t until a stiff breeze blew past her that she realized she should probably get home to get started on her art project. It was going to take a while.

            Walking home was a blur as thoughts raced through her head. She trudged upstairs to her bedroom and tossed her backpack against the wall. Pulling out a fresh sheet of drawing paper, she sat down at her desk. To her surprise, there was already another sheet of paper in front of her.

            Denise blinked her eyes and shook her head, wondering if she was imagining it. The sheet of paper in front of her was her finished self-portrait. This was the one that had been burned by Rico. But now, miraculously, it was not. It looked just as it had this morning.

            Leaning back into her chair, she wondered how this could possibly be real. Had today been a dream? Pulling out her phone, she saw it was definitely the afternoon of her project due date. Her project would still be late, but she couldn’t help but wonder. Did this have anything to do with Fiercefire?

            As soon as she had that thought, she felt a weight on her shoulder and a whisper filled her ears, bringing with it a warm heat. “Thanks again, Denise.”