The Sign

There is a pillar of fire in the High Street. It appeared just
outside my flat at 4:26 this morning.


Normally, I can sleep through anything, but just lately, I
just can't shut my brain down. There are so many things to think about.
The six had just flipped over on my alarm clock radio. Every Sunday
evening I set that clock from the pips on Radio Four, so that day being
Monday, just, the time was exact.


There was the click as the plastic flipped over and then a
sort of 'tarrah' noise, like you get on a computer when you start it
up. The noise came from outside, as it was getting so close to the time
to get up, I thought I might as well check it out.


There was this thin line of flame, about the width of a
pencil and not much higher than the shoe shop opposite. It was right in
the middle of the High Street and straight in front of my window. It
flickered blue and orange for a while, then made a kind of 'pfizzz'
sound like a shorting electric kettle. Just when I thought it was going
to fizzle out, the column expanded upwards through the
clouds.


The police were on the scene in minutes. They cordoned off
the phenomena by wrapping yards of blue and white tape around four
lampposts. Like me, they watched as the pillar of fire started to grow
outwards. It reached two metres across by 5:03 and it has stayed that
size ever since.


You can't see the top. I leaned out of my window, strained my
neck to try to see but couldn't. The fire had punched a big hole right
through a blanket of grey. The edges of the hole in the cloud churned
and swirled; glowing orange and red. One of the policemen shouted
something, but I ignored him.


Bart was quick off the mark. He arrived well wrapped up in
his trademark gabardine mac and flat cap. His placard proclaiming 'the
end of the world was nigh' looked a little less beat up than usual. I
expected he would react faster than the police reinforcements. He beat
them to the edge of the blue and white tape by a good ten
minutes.


The phenomena outside played hell with my radio. At 5:29, I
switched it on to see if it made the news. All I got was some foreign
station playing choral music. Same channel was on every waveband I
tried. In the end, I gave up and switched on the TV. Too early for the
news, only cures for insomnia on air. I left it tuned to the BBC and
returned to the more interesting scenes in the street.


The spectacle had drawn in a small crowd of rubbernecks. One
or two were still in their nightclothes. Mrs Jones from the flat above
the dry cleaners had a very grubby, pink, quilted dressing gown on and
her hair in rollers. I waved and she waved back. Matt &;amp; Thomas
had turned up. They were shuffling around and looking uncomfortable
behind Bart. Spotting Mrs. Jones, they left Bart to parade up and down
alone and went over to chat to her.


It was about that time that it struck me that my mind might
be playing tricks. That it was just a fevered dream brought on by an
overdose of Macaroni Cheese and plain chocolate. To make sure, I poked
a fork into the back of my hand, but the pillar of fire
remained.


This entire happening on my own doorstep, well windowsill,
was too good to keep to myself. I rang Jade. Only Jade was more
interested in telling me what time it was (Which I knew, it was 5:34).
For a professional, Jade had a very good grasp and wide vocabulary of
profanities, so I just agreed that I would tell her all about it when I
saw her at the clinic and hung up.


Policemen started to usher the growing crowd further away
from the fire. More blue and white tape marked a new exclusion zone at
the entrance to Mr Singh's newsagent. Mr Singh objected, so they moved
one end of the tape so that onlookers could get in and out of his shop.
At the other end of the street, a man was giving directions to a knot
of officers. The way he was waving his arms around made him look like
he was shooing crows from a vegetable patch.


Behind the policemen, I spotted Pete. It was unusual to get
him out of bed before noon. His hands were deep in his pockets and he
was trying to shrink himself inside his grubby anorak. I willed him to
look up at my window, but his eyes remained fixed upon the column of
fire.


At 5:54, the police started hammering on my door yelling that
I had to evacuate. I told them to go away. Another policeman tried to
persuade me, but I would have none of it. Typical of my luck, one of
them turned out to be the copper who arrested me after the fracas at
the Bingo in the church hall. Recognising my name, he first asked if I
was taking my medication, then rushed off.


Breakfast News started on the television, tearing myself away
from the window, I sat on the end of my bed and watched. The main
headlines focussed on another suicide bombing in the Middle East and a
big corporate scandal in the US. At the very end of the bulletin, the
pretty anchor gave a few seconds of description of the 'incident' as
'breaking news'.


Back in the street, Andy &;amp; Judith had met up with
Pete. As usual, they were more interested in each other than the world
around them. They cuddled, kissed and canoodled while Pete continued to
stare at the fire.


My phone rang. I tried to ignore it, but it was so persistent
in the end, I had to. Jim told me to go back to the window and look
towards the newsagents. When I did, I saw Jim with John and Phil,
bouncing up and down madly while waving their arms. Behind them, the
first TV van drew up. It was 6:12.


The column of fire continued to blaze away against the grey
early morning light. As I watched the yellow, blue and orange flames
began to twist and form into happy smiling faces that rose skyward from
the tarmac. Some of the faces had bodies; a couple appeared to have
wings. Every now and again, the flames flicked red and I thought I saw
demons writhing among the host.


The clock said it was 6:42 when I looked away. I didn't
realise I had watched for so long. Quickly, I checked the crowd and
breathed a sigh of relief to see all my friends still there. Little
Jimmy, now parading with Bart and the placard, had joined them.



Only Simon was missing, I rang him. He wasn't at all happy
about it. He said that his wife didn't like me calling, that he didn't
want his bosses to find out that he associated with me. He reckoned
that his neighbours were gossiping about us. In the end, I pleaded with
him and reluctantly he agreed to come down to the High
Street.


Jade emerged from the crowd flanked by two policemen. She
looked very angry about something. A couple of minutes later they
started hammering on my door. As I was more interested in the TV, which
was showing a reporter doing a live piece to camera from the High
Street below, I ignored them. Strangely, the column of fire didn't show
up on the TV. I checked out the window. It was still burning. I could
see the reporter and the camera; it should have been in
shot.


Jade started to bang on about the importance of the
medication and how I should really come outside. Promises were made
about how I would be put up at 'The Grange' until everything was sorted
out. I kept scanning the crowd looking for Simon.


For twenty-seven minutes, Jade tried in turns to coax me out,
frighten me out and to bribe me out. It's her job I suppose. The
authorities pay her to do this kind of thing.


At 7:09, Simon pushed his way to the front of the crowd and
stood next to Pete. Neither acknowledged the other. It was time. This
was my moment. Destiny was upon us.


I stripped off my T-shirt and boxer shorts and moved towards
the window. It suddenly struck me that I would need shoes, so I pulled
on my best trainers. I waited until Jade started on a promising tirade
and threw open the window.


With one swift movement, I was on the ledge. Another and I
was shinning down the iron drainpipe. The rusty metal scraped at the
flesh of my legs and hands, but only for a few seconds before I was in
the street. Policemen were rushing towards me. I rushed to the pillar
of flame. Six paces and it enveloped me and cleansed me of the last of
the drugs and poisons. My eyes were full of visions of paradise, my
ears filled with divine music.


It would soon be the appointed time. The living and the dead
surrounded me. Now they wanted me to tell them what was happening. Jade
was in front of me, her face distorted and pale, her eyes wide. Now she
wanted explanation, I just pointed to Little Jimmy, Bart and the shared
placard. I started calling out the prepared litany, counting down the
seconds to 7:15 and the final act.