a thought remembered

She huddled behind my leg as the fire light danced across the new bricks of the fire pit we just finished. Don't let it burn me daddy, she whimpered with fear in her eyes.
The camp ground bustled in the early evening. The sun had just sank into the ocean bringing disappointment to the young ones who expected steam to rise extinguishing the day. A crackling fire cut shadow dancers across the tent trailer and the sweat ting of smoke wisp ed in and out of my vision. Elated children hovered around a patient mother as tools and treats to make s'mores were pasted out. Roasting sticks adorned with fluffy sugar were thrust in and out of the red hot coals as instructions on the perfect marshmallow is pasted from one generation to the next . The fire springs to life as young boy, his first s'more experience, ignites his dangling marshmallow. frantically he whips the flaming stick back and forth in effort to extinguish the flaming morsel. time slowed as a moulting ball of flaming lava dislodges from his stick and sails smouldering into space. The pulsating mass of mellow appeared as the baking crust of an active volcano a writhing black mass with red moulting lave seeping threw the cracks.
Innocently anticipating her first chance to create a treat a small girl approaches the fire with reluctance. In a instant the night was interrupted with screams of terror. A marshmallow encrusted face wailed and screamed as the viscus burning fluid ran down her cheek and hair. a whirlwind of parents quickly ascertained the situation and proceeded to loudly bark profanity with some instructions. Cold water was tossed, ointment applied, and the remaining goo scraped from the victims hair and cheek. Time passes and pain subsided the adrenalin of the near miss fades as the camp grounds grows silent.
You could almost feel the ears straining to hear the outcome of the events. a small sound begins to fill the air as whispers drift softly from camp to camp. They all right over there, figures with that many kids something is bound to go wrong, and other more odious comments. Feeling the urge to relive everyone concerns I head for the trailer door to exclaim to all what a bunch of poo heads i thought they were. A calm collected wife gently chides me to humility by reminding me, due to the darkness are general location was unattainable by the mear sound of the events and most likely several concerned neighbors would of surly made use of their cell phones and contacted child protective services. with understanding i relaxed. Tempers calmed and sleep drew all thoughts of terror from the minds of those not still smouldering and only occasional whimpers in the night sired my slumber.
the next morning under a new light the burns already fading like a mild sun burn we drove nonchalantly from the camping ground. a small crowd of rubbernecking swollen eared misfits glared at us from reclined lawn chairs. I could feel the thoughts of bad parents drifting our way and chuckle as I look in the rear view mirror at the parents holding a cold one in one hand an a hot dog in the other yelling at there child who is painting lude signs on the restroom wall.