Beach Apples

Firesticks - Furnace

Furnace

Ken needed some distraction and some fresh, if hot, air. Watching the news was just making him anxious and depressed. At least Jerry had managed to send him a quick text during his break to say he was safe.

He wandered outside to gaze worriedly at the drooping garden, too hot to water anything yet. The sun was fierce on his bare back, he could almost feel his skin starting to peel as he stood there. He closed his eyes for a moment, absorbing the intensity.

The noisy crashing from the bottle factory over the road intruded on the heat enforced quiet. He knew he shouldn't complain, he enjoyed a glass of wine as much as the next person but he wished it didn't have to be so near. Or so noisy. The owners had promised to replace the sheet iron fence with a five metre high protective wall but so far nothing had eventuated.

He opened his eyes and saw a large dead rat near the vegetable garden, a present from his cat Tabby. Ken pretended he hadn't seen it, he couldn't face the thought of picking it up and carrying it around to the bin at the front of the house. With a bit of luck, Jerry would be home later to do the unpleasant job for him. He felt a twinge of guilt, after all Jerry had been fighting fires all day, but there was something about rats ... he just hated them.

Enough of the outdoors. He had his hand on the back door when he remembered the clothes hoist. He'd just have a quick look while he was out there, see if there had been any damage. Looking up to check if any of the wires had melted, he stubbed his toes painfully on a metal rod lying on the lawn.

"Shit! Who left that there?" he demanded angrily. He picked it up and looked at it. Was it a piece from their portable gazebo? He didn't think so, too big and heavy. He was just about to put it in the shed when suddenly it extended into a metre long silver rod. Ken yelped in surprise and dropped it.

He laughed at himself. Jerry must have bought it as a joke. He picked the rod up again, liking how smooth it felt in his hand. He pointed it at the cat who was passed out on the cool slate under the pot plant holder. "No more rats, you promise? Alright look, I've tried to be reasonable. You give me your word in ten seconds or I shoot you in the head."

Tabby ignored him, the tip of her tail giving a contemptuous twitch.

Ken wondered if the rod glowed in the dark or played a tune or something when you shook it. He played around with it for a few more moments but nothing happened except, thank heavens, the glass factory appeared to have finished for the day. No more noise. They must have had an early closure because of the heat. He placed the rod carefully on the back verandah and went inside to watch some more TV.