If the ghost of Christmas present was staring through the window of Tyrone's crib he would surely wake everybody up inside and warn them what was about to happen.
It was 6:45am Christmas morning and the white candle perched on the window sill burned at a steady pace. What was about to go down would throw investigators off for all of eternity. Vinny had changed his modus operandi. There were no gadgets involved in this caper. Just a simple candle that Vinny was using for a 5.5 hour fuse. It was pure genius. No electronic timers left behind for investigators to find amongst the relics of the conflagration.
The Gadget Man didn't know the exact second or exact minute Tyrone's abode would be ablaze but if his calculations were correct Tyrone's apartment would catch fire between 6:30am-7:00am. A precise measurement had been marked near the bottom of the candle where he drilled a small hole to place his homemade wick. The wick was made up of twisted toilet paper soaked in grain alcohol that would also leave no evidence behind. The hot wax that had melted down the side of the candle had locked the papery wick into place and kept it from sliding out.
At 6:46am it finally happened. The papery wick was now near the very top of the candle because the candle had melted down as the hours passed. The half inch flame on the candle flickered a few times back and forth towards the direction of the wick like something being struck by a magic wand. Even though the papery wick had been saturated in grain alcohol, as the hours passed much of the wick had dried up.
The string of toilet paper slowly caught on fire and the flame crept it's way down towards the basin under the tree igniting faster on the levitated string. Had the homemade fuse never been levitated properly there was a small chance the fuse could've burned out before ever reaching the tree. Since the stringy toilet paper was levitated the flame moved quickly down the cord and reached the basin full of grain alcohol.
A big whoosh sound erupted from the basin and the Christmas tree caught fire quickly like all Christmas trees do. The hastily decorated 7ft. Christmas tree burned like a giant blow torch spewing vicious flames into the ceiling charring up the paint and spreading across the room like something from an Indiana Jones movie. The fire moved like it was on a competitive Easter Egg hunt destroying everything in its path.
Tyrone was upstairs sound asleep captivated in a dream where he was dancing with a marijuana joint that was as big as his Christmas tree. After the ballroom dance he intended to smoke the entire joint all by himself. It was a beautiful dance and the walking, talking, joint had a cute little voice just like the Pillsbury Dough Boy.
After the cute little dance Tyrone pushed the 7ft. joint onto the ballroom floor like it owed him money. The talking joint shrieked and Tyrone pounced him and pulled out his favorite cigarette lighter.
"I'm sorry to have to do this to you." He said feeling no remorse at all. Tyrone lit the talking joint's head on fire and began sucking on where his toes would be if he had toes. The crowd on the ballroom dance floor cheered and egged him on while Tyrone took a long pull filling his tainted lungs with marijuana.
Tyrone tossed and turned in his bed coughing. He believed the coughing came from his dream. The dream felt so real and there wasn't much weed out there that could still make Tyrone cough.
Suddenly everything in the dream went black and Tyrone woke up coughing. He rubbed his eyes which were already tearing up from the smoke. Wait a second. The coughing wasn't from the dream. He thought to himself. Tyrone became alarmed when he breathed another breath of Christmas morning air and choked on smoke. Oh no! This couldn't be happening! Smoke meant there was fire!
He panicked, threw the covers to the side and jumped out of bed coughing and wheezing. Tyrone had no shirt on but he was still decent because he had on his flannel pajama pants. He staggered towards the bedroom door and hunkered down as more smoke filled the room. He kept listening for sirens but heard none. Maybe all the firemen were home for Christmas or maybe they were just running late.
Tyrone exited his bedroom and headed for the stairs. The hat rack in the foyer had fallen onto the bottom of the stairs engulfed in flames. There were flames everywhere creeping up and down the walls and ceilings and even the wooden rail along the stairs. There was absolutely no way to make it down the stairs without getting torched.
As Tyrone watched his favorite velvety hat catch fire he suddenly remembered something. Shawna! He had totally forgotten about his sister. There was no need to worry about his mother because she worked the graveyard shift at the gas station down the street and wouldn't be home for another half hour.
More billowy smoke infiltrated the air and it was getting hard to see. Tyrone dashed towards Shawna's room which was only a few strides away. He turned the knob but the door was locked. Shawna never trusted his hooligan friends and feared one of them might try to make a move on her while she was sleeping and they were stoned.
Tyrone didn't have time to search for a screwdriver to open the door so he beat on the door with his fist. Nobody answered. It was like nobody was in there at all. Tyrone heard strange creaking sounds of things falling apart downstairs. He took a few steps back then lunged towards the door like a NFL linebacker and thrusted his right shoulder into the door.
The chintzy bedroom door swung wide open and he was inside. Shawna looked graceful as a kitten nestled up to its mother sound asleep. Tyrone hovered over her and pushed on her shoulders vigorously trying to wake her up. He tried and tried but she wouldn't respond. The toxic smoke had made the 19 year old beauty unconscious putting her in a deep slumber.
Tyrone didn't realize it but Shawna was already dead. Time seemed to be running out and the place was going up in flames. He reluctantly administered mouth to mouth on his sister but got nowhere with it. He jumped when he was startled by a pounding sound from the window. He felt so relieved when he saw the fireman standing on a ladder and tapping on the window. Praise the good Lord. Nothing like a brother looking out for another brother on Christmas morning.
The fireman motioned him over to the window by waving his glove at him. Tyrone opened the window and the fireman quickly pulled off his oxygen mask and placed it over Tyrone's mouth so he could catch his breath. The fireman clambered through the window and rushed over to Shawna lying peacefully on her bed. When Tyrone regained his strength he helped the friendly fireman pick up Shawna and carry her towards the window.
As the three of them slowly made their way down the ladder cheers and clapping erupted from bystanders and nosy neighbors. Even though it was cold outside and Tyrone didn't have his shirt on, he really couldn't feel a thing.
An ambulance pulled up and the back doors swung wide open. Tyrone helped the fireman carry Shawna towards the ambulance. Paramedics quickly pushing their Christmas cookies to the side, waited impatiently in the back of the ambulance hoping to rescue the poor girl. They allowed Tyrone to stay in the back of the ambulance and sit next to his sister. The ambulance blared its siren and they sped off to the hospital.
The paramedics worked on Shawna as if she was the president of the United States. They knew if they could save this girl it would make a good Christmas story.
"Is she gonna make it?" Asked Tyrone demanding an answer from his tone of voice. One of the paramedic guys wearing thick lensed glasses and holding up an IV bag finally spoke while the others brushed off the question.
"We're doing everything we can. We won't know until we get to the hospital." He said using his free hand to push up on his glasses which were drooping down his nose. Another paramedic was warming up the defibrillators and rubbing the iron plates together. Tyrone had to turn his head while they zapped electric shocks into Shawna's chest trying to bring her back to them. The situation wasn't looking good and Tyrone had a feeling she was already dead. He still didn't give up hope and knew the hospital was only a few minutes away. Once they rushed her inside the hospital better physicians and doctors would be able to assist her.
The ambulance stopped abruptly and Tyrone knew they weren't at a red light. The doors swung open and just like a magic trick the gurney and Shawna disappeared before his very eyes.
Tyrone jumped out of the ambulance and ran after the paramedics that seemed to be kidnapping his sister. When he scampered through the doors of the emergency room, visitors sitting down looked at him like he was crazy. He tried to follow the entourage down the hall but a big Burly security guard stepped out in front of him and blocked his path.
"Where do you think you're going son?" Asked the security guard.
"Hey man, move out of the way that's my sister!"
Tyrone got ready to push the man out of the way if he had to.
"I'm sorry kid. Nobody's allowed beyond this point."
Tyrone watched the security guard unsnap the top of a black leather holster carrying a can of mace. He had learned from previous run ins with the law not to mess with a man holding pepper mace. Jeez, if that stuff didn't really burn the eyes.
"They'll come get you when they're ready. Please take a seat with the others." Requested the guard.
Tyrone glanced at the seated crowd gazing at him like he was Houdini about to pull a rabbit out of a hat. Tyrone grumbled some racist remarks under his breath inferring something about crackers and reluctantly took a seat with the others. It seemed like everyone was still staring at him but he refused to find out and remained staring at the freshly buffed tiled floor.
Ten minutes later he looked up and a skinny old doctor with graying hair was looking at him with a somber look on his face. Tyrone could tell by the look on the doctor's face that it was not good news. The doctor had trouble keeping eye contact and kept staring down at his clipboard while he spoke.
"I'm terribly sorry. We did all we could but there was nothing we could do. Shawna was DOA....Dead Rival."
The doctor meant to say "Dead on Arrival" but found himself stammering.
Tyrone lowered his head almost into his lap and did something he hadn't done in ten years. Tyrone wept like a baby.