“I think I’ve got it covered, but knock yourself out. If I’m going to blow us both up, I need a sandwich first.” Noah was actually grateful for a second pair of eyes to check the formula and the order of the steps in the “spell.” If even one item was off…who knew what kind of “big bang” might occur?
In the kitchen, he put away all the groceries but the items he needed and began building a deli-worthy sandwich. As he spread mustard and mayo on the top piece of rye bread, ready to close up the whole Dagwood special, Dante entered the kitchen.
“About your notes… Did you use chlorine or liquid chloride?”
“Since pure chlorine is a toxic gas and needs to be combined with a negative ion to create matter at all—”
“Oh, fer Chrissakes. You know what I mean.”
“I’m just explaining what the difference is, but if you want the short answer…”
“Please.”
“Sodium chloride.”
“Salt?”
Noah lifted the salt shaker as if showing where he’d obtained it.
“Are you sure that will do it?”
Noah shrugged. “I don’t see why not.”
“Awesome.” Dante returned to the spare room, and Noah chomped into his sandwich.
BOOM!
* * *
“You’re saying your brother blew up the house?” the fire chief asked.
“No. Hell no.Iblew up the house,” a slightly crispy-looking Dante insisted.
His buddies from his own firehouse snickered in the background. Jay Mahoney said, “You just missed us on your day off, didn’t you, Fierro?”
“Nobody blew up the house,” Noah explained. “It was just the spare room.”
“Oh.Justthe spare room… Well, that makes it okay,” the Southie captain snapped sarcastically.
Dante’s counterparts on the B shift rotation smirked and shook their heads as they walked by. The smoking second floor didn’t look too bad from the outside. The window had blown out, and whatever was smoldering had been extinguished. Noah’s quick response was to shut off the gas and grab the fire extinguisher from the kitchen while Dante went for the one in the bedroom closet.
“The landlords are going to be furious when they hear about this,” their first-floor neighbor whispered to his young wife.
“There’s no damage to your unit at all, right?” Noah asked. “No smoke or scorch marks anywhere?”
“Uh, not that we can see. I mean, some plaster fell…and who knows what’s going on behind the walls, right?” the wife asked.
“Behind the walls?” Her husband’s thick eyebrows shot up, and he stared at the house.
Noah began to walk toward the building, but Dante stopped him with a hand to his chest. “There’s no fire behind the walls. No smoke anywhere. It’s out.” He turned to the couple and said, “I emptied two fire extinguishers. Anything thatmighthave caught was bathed in foam before the trucks got here. They did a thorough sweep. They wouldn’t be packing up if there were any danger.”
“I’ve seen stuff on HGTV,” the female neighbor said. “The support beams are probably really old and could have been knocked out of place.”
“You’re sure it’ll be okay to live in?” the man asked.
“A structural engineer will be called,” Dante said.
“We’ll patch the plaster if the landlord will let us,” Noah added. “Your unit should be fine. If you find any smoke or water damage, let us know. We’ll get both our places checked out and fixed as soon as we can.”
