The dashboard clock read 6:26 as Bill drove past the house. Though I wouldn’t describe a domicile of that size a house. It looked to be a few rooms short of a mansion. Granted, it was hard to get a good look while going 25 mph. I couldn’t imagine that ogling the houses on this 'street of dreams' would be considered out of place, but Bill informed me otherwise.

"Once this crap goes down, you’ll be amazed at what people remember."

He pointed at a spot around the block behind our target.  I was to meet him here once I'd done the deed.  I struggled to piece together everything I knew about starting a fire. Anything to keep my mind off the clock. 6:29… As the minutes increased, so did my blood pressure. Fighting to keep a calm exterior, it was all I could do to keep from shaking. I had worked so hard all my life to keep my nose clean, and here I had escalated from stealing to arson in the space of a few hours. 6:35…

Bill stopped briefly at the intersection to the Senator’s street, and I slipped out of the car. As I hiked the half mile to the house, I chanted in my head to strengthen my resolve. Get in, start the fire, get out. Get in, start the fire, get out. Get in, find some sort of accelerant, find a library or laundry room, start the fire, try to get out without killing myself… The variables in this equation were overwhelming. I felt like I was back in high school algebra; x + y = one heck of a fire. The Senator’s astounding abode came into view and I attempted a nonchalant glance at my watch. 6:44... And the second hand was sweeping it’s way north.  Like clockwork, I saw a car pulling out of the senator's drive and start my way.  I glanced at the landscape beside me as the car drove by.  15 minutes... 

As I came upon the driveway, I reached into my pocket for the "bomb detonator" I had secured earlier. My fingers brushed against the camera, and I felt a surge of confidence. I’d made it out of the gift shop, I could make it through this. I hit the button and heard the rumble of the opening door as I began the trek up the long drive.

I fought the temptation to look around to see if anyone was watching me. Act natural. This is your house, and you’re just getting home. Nothing out of the ordinary… Once inside, I hit the button once more, and watched the band of light slowly diminish. I tried not to think of it as an omen. Through the dim light of the garage, I could see the outline of the door. Okay, Bill – You better be working your magic… It was now or never. I slipped the gloves on, grabbed the doorknob and turned. *BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP* Crumb! The alarm was going off, and the knob wasn’t turning. I hadn’t even thought about the fact that the housekeeper would use the basic security measure of locking the doors. In a panic, I fumbled through the backpack for the box of matches. Finally my hand closed around the small rectangle. I struck a match, and tried to get my bearings. At least that horrible racket had quieted. Quieted? Thanks, Bill! Okay. Improvise. The heat at my fingertips warned me of impending darkness. I reached up and touched the top of the door frame with my finger tips. Though it was a stretch, I found no spare key. Double crumb! I lit another match and noticed a flannel coat hanging on a peg a few feet away. Could it be so simple? Before my fingers got burned again, I reached over and groped through the pockets. My fingers felt cold metal. YES! One more match bit the dust as I unlocked the door.

Wow. I felt like I was on that home makeover show, walking into that house for the first time. But instead of shock and awe at the beauty surrounding me, I was shocked and awed about what I was about to destroy. I gulped and shook my head. Focus, Julie! Now, where would I find books? Gut instinct told me that paper would burn better than cloth. I plowed through the kitchen, making a mental note – cleaning cabinet – aerosol cans… I started down the hall, trying to ignore the old grandfather clock who was telling me that I had squandered five minutes trying to break in. The first door I came to was a bathroom. Not practical. That is, unless my stomach made good on its threat to return the dinner I’d tried to choke down earlier. The next door was a linen closet. At least some possibilities there. The next door opened into an office. Bingo! Shelves lined one wall, filled with volumes that I assumed were just for show. The Senator didn’t have the brains to read half of them. His scent hung in the air, triggering memories that pushed aside my terror. It was payback time.

I quickly pulled armloads of books off the shelf, letting them pile in a heap on the floor. I dumped the contents of my bag beside it. Still unsure what I should do with the magnifying glass and the vials, I put those items on the desk. I opened a vial, and gagged at the caustic odor. Nail polish remover? Nice! Quickly, I grabbed a book, drenched it with the contents of the vial, and dropped it near the edge of the mound. Cautiously, I lit a match, wondering if I had just doomed myself. How flammable were these fumes? Apparently not much, as the explosion I kept waiting for never occurred. In fact, the closer I got it to the book, the more I realized that this was not going to be the key ingredient to the instant inferno I’d hoped for. Finally, I touched the dying match to the cover. A streak of blue raced over the face of the book, and then vanished. What the..? I picked up another book, lit another match, and ignited the edge. The flame quickly turned to red and black smoldering ash. Furious now, I ripped pages out. "Burn, damn it!" I managed to get the individual pages to blaze, but the rest of the books smoked mockingly, daring me to finish what I had started.

Back to the backpack. I smacked my head when I saw the empty spray bottle. Of course! A light mist of accelerator would enhance the fire, without dousing it. I hurried back to the desk and grabbed the remaining vial. A stack of papers beside it caught my eye. I squinted at a couple pictures printed on the top page. It almost looked like… I shook my head, squinting harder. "You’ll know when you get there," Bill’s words rang in my head. The magnifying glass! A shiver ran down my spine at the breadth of preparation that had gone into this endeavor. Well, I was bound and determined to do my part. A closer examination revealed what I had suspected. I grabbed the stack of papers and shoved it into my backpack. With renewed faith, I dumped the vial into the bottle, lit another crumbled page, and started spraying.

This time, a poof of blue ignited into a satisfying cloud of fire that hung over the books. But just as my hopes rose, it burned itself out as quickly as it had appeared. I slumped down, smoldering as much as the pile in front of me. Smokey the Bear and his fight for the forests popped into my head. Start a fire with a single careless match? Here I couldn’t even start one with accelerant, fuel and a whole box! As a last ditch effort, I started rifling through the drawers in the desk. A small bottle in the top drawer raised my spirits. I’d seen enough movies to know that the vodka would make a sufficient explosion to get this party started. I raced out of the room to the linen closet, grabbed the smallest towel I could find, ran back and stuffed it into the neck of the bottle. I froze as I reached for a match. *Bong, bing, bong, bong… Bong, bong, bing, bong… Bing, bing, bong, bong… Bong, bing, bing, bong…* 7:00!!! *BONG* I grabbed my backpack. *BONG* Ran to the door. *BONG* Lit the match. *BONG* Ignited the corner of cloth sticking out of the bottle. *BONG* Threw the bottle at the pile of books. *BONG* Booked it from the room… The last chime was drowned out by the explosion on my heels. I fell to the ground, dropped by either force, fear, or survival instinct. Scrambling to my feet, I raced down the hall. I could feel the heat from the room, and knew that it would be just a matter of minutes…

I burst through the kitchen and had flung open the door, realizing too late that the garage was filled with light. A car was just pulling up the drive. I could imagine the eyes behind the glare of the windshield, and thought my heart would stop. Jail or morgue… Could be either outcome if I got caught by Senator Hughes. There was no time to think. I turned and ran back toward the inferno. The large picture window in the dining room caught my eye, and I knew I had found my escape. Acting solely on adrenaline, I grabbed a chair, threw it at the glass, and smashed through behind. Run. Run. Through the expansive yard… The wooded area beyond… Some unsuspecting neighbor’s lawn… Until finally I reached the street, and that beautiful, beautiful van.