Mabel’s face contorts and then she sniffs and shouts, “I’m on fire! Help! Help!”
Memaw shouts, “Hang on, Mabel! I’ve got you!” She lifts the lid to her dryer and stands, grabbing her portable drink cup from the floor and removing the lid.
Laura’s already heading to the back room at a trot. “I’ll get the extinguisher!” she shouts. “Call 9-1-1!” Esther yells, her voice a panicked shriek.
I pick up my cell and walk toward the dryers at the same time as Memaw lifts her flask of water and tosses it straight at Mabel.
Mabel gasps as a wave of water douses her and the dryer, followed by a plume of steam rising with a loud hiss.
She shouts, “This is it! I’m going up in flames!”
The dryer keeps running.
Mabel flails her arms, swatting at the cloud of steam and screaming.
“My life is over! I’m dying! This is how it ends! Up in smoke!”
Laura runs out with the extinguisher in hand, but stopsdead in her tracks when she sees the water pooling around Mabel’s chair and no sign of actual flames.
I press the power button and unplug the dryer. The hum of the motor stops.
“Oh! Mabel!” Esther says, “What will I do without my best friend?”
“I thought I was your best friend,” Memaw says from the other side of Esther.
“You are,” Esther says, turning her attention to Memaw. “A woman can have two best friends.”
I lift the hood over Mabel’s head.
She looks up at me wide-eyed. Her hair is half damp, curlers sagging and askew. Her makeup is smeared. But otherwise, she’s fine.
The sound of sirens wailing in the distance barely registers with me. We have occasional sirens in town—especially if Jesse’s on duty. He likes to exercise his right to blare the police siren over some of the smallest things, like someone jaywalking.
I step closer and take a look at Mabel’s hair. Nothing’s burnt. One small spot might have been slightly singed.
“I may have gotten a little generous with the setting lotion,” I say.
“Setting lotion?” Mabel asks. “So, I’m not on fire?”
“You’re going to live!” Esther exclaims, slapping her weathered hand to her heart.
“No thanks to you,” Mabel says.
“I saved your life,” Memaw says, triumphantly. Then she adds, “You can buy me lunch.”
“After Angie re-curls my hair,” Mabel says. “I’m not going out looking like a drowned rat.”
The sirens grow louder. “Did someone call the fire department?” Laura asks.
“I did,” Shannon says. “I thought Mabel was on fire.”
The customers are all peering in the front plate-glass window. Behind them, a fire engine pulls up and three firefighters pour out in turnout gear.
EJ walks in first, looking around and sniffing the air.
“Someone called in a fire?” he asks.
“I did,” Shannon says. “Sorry. Mabel was under the dryer and some of the product started sizzling.” She adds, “I’m really sorry.”
