It was a hot summer. It was so hot that I can even hear the stalks of wheat crack when I walked across the field.
I remember Luke and dad working in the backyard. Before they used a crusher to deal with the abandoned cars, they first had to remove the gasoline from the tanks. Otherwise, there would be explosion. While working, Luke stumbled and spilt the gasoline on his jean trousers. The heat from the sun dried her trousers. When he and dad cut metal with cutting torch, he forget about his gas soaked clothes. The spark from the flint jumped at his clothes and his trousers caught a fire, which spread to the dry grass and wheat.
I was doing dishes when I heard the big scream. Obviously, it was from humans instead of animals. Luke was lying on the lawns. One leg of the trousers was gone and the skin was like wax from burning candles. I knew the problem was from the burn so I thought about emptying the fridge and fitting Luke in but the fridge only works when the door was closed. But in that way, Luke wouldn’t breath. Then I thought of using trash can filled with water. After cleaning the dirty trash can, I remembered what would make the matter worse was not the burn but the infection. So I put a plastic bag in the can and then filled it with water. Then I carried Luke’s leg into the water. Under the burning sun, the water soon became warm. So I threw some ice into the water. With cap on his head, blanket over his shoulder and legs into the water, Luke looks like half homeless and half on vacation.
When dad returned home, we carried Luke home and waited for mom’s returning. It took mom and dad a whole night to remove the dead flesh on his legs. Fortunately, Luke’s legs were not infected. Mom and I took turns to attend Luke. It was several weeks before Luke recovered.
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