The entrance of Chuck’s Lair opened into a candle-lit corridor. Quiet, as if already in awe of the flames, we followed the narrow, circular hallway to a doorway flanked by medieval looking sconces. Like sheep we filed into a small, octagonal amphitheater with high walls and a ceiling open to the cold night air. I took a seat on cold metal bleachers and for the first time noticed the stage. It was painted black, like all of the walls, and framed by heavy black curtains with images of flames painted in waving red, orange, and yellow across their length. As my eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, I noticed the walls too, were not all black, but painted with the same red, yellow, and orange flames. As I looked around me, and then looked up at the stars, I had the impression of being roasted alive in a fire pit. Had a giant pair of tongs descended from the heavens to pluck me from the flames, I would not have been surprised.

            As the last person took a seat, the curtains opened. A large metal bowl, maybe about four feet in diameter sat, flames spewing from it’s center, in the middle of the stage. I could feel my pupils widen as the flames entranced me. And then they were gone. Darkness filled my vision. The bleachers creaked. Silence. And then, from the left, a glow from off stage and a hiss tore through the dark silence as a huge fire ball shot across the stage. Out walked a man carrying a blazing torch. The crowed inhaled. I did too. The man was short, hairy, and shirtless. He wore giant goggles, like aviator goggles. For what seemed like hours he shot fire balls above our heads, spewed fire into the air, and did tricks he called exotic names like the serpent, Hell fire, and the Marlboro Man. I was hypnotized by the flames, my heart rising and sinking with every red burst as it bloomed and faded.

            And then, “For my last trick,” he said, his voice raspy and grating, “sunset.” From the metal bowl on stage he grabbed another torch and lit it with the first one. Then he bent over, crossed the torches, and as he straightened, he threw the torches in the air. They crossed in the air and fell to the ground. Chuck had disappeared. The crowed waited as the torches burned on the wooden stage. The flame grew rapidly, I could feel the heat. The stage was on fire. I glanced at the doorway, where I had come in, knowing I should will myself to leave. Finally someone moved, and the trance was broken. In a mad rush, we all left the burning Fire Breather’s Lair, and I for one, wondered what else Mr. Robert had in store for me.