The Bearded Fireman
The sun had just set over the small neighborhood when the earth began to tremble. The cracks that opened up in the ground swallowed up cars and trees, and the roads twisted into a mangled mess. The only street leading out of the neighborhood was destroyed, and no one could escape.
People ran frantically from home to home, screaming for help as they watched their homes crack and split. A family of three, a father, a mother, and a small girl were trapped inside their damaged house. A tree on the power post ignited. Flames engulfed one side of the building, the heat so intense that the air around it shimmered like a mirage. They screamed, and their neighbors cried out in fear for the trapped family, but there was no help to be had.
A figure emerged from the woods across from the burning home. He was a towering man, broad-shouldered and thick with muscle. His long beard flowed like a river, and his red hair was pulled back into a tight braid. Some thought his hair looked as if it were living fire itself. Nobody had seen him before, but everyone could feel the power he emanated.
The bearded man moved quickly to the nearest hydrant, his massive hands spinning the rusty cap open with ease. The water surged out, and the man lifted his immense axe, directing the flow of water towards the burning house using the blade. The fire was intense, hotter than the neighbors had ever felt, but the bearded man was unphased. He pushed the water harder, seeming to control it as if it were three men on a hose; it began to make a dent in the flames.
The fire department was nowhere to be found. The neighborhood residents watched in amazement as the bearded man, unaided, battled the blaze. The heat was unbearable, and the smoke was thick, but he pressed on, focused on his mission.
As the flames began dying, the bearded man heard a faint cry from inside the house. A little girl’s voice, sobbing for help. The power line, still saturated with energy, seemed to seek out the girl’s location, slithering side to side, getting ever closer. Without hesitation, he left his post at the hydrant and headed towards the reason for the burning building.
The heat was so intense that the man could feel his skin wanting to blister, but he pushed forward, driven by the sound of the girl’s cries. With a bear’s embrace, the power pole gave way under his grip. He pulled the pine pole and venomous line away from the home. He made his way inside the house, his lungs filled with but unaffected by thick smoke, his eyes slightly stinging from the heat.
He found the girl in a back room, curled up in a ball, crying. He scooped her up, holding her tight against his chest, wrapping her with his hydrant-soaked beard, and made his way back outside. It felt like the air around him was melting, but the bearded man kept going. He set the girl in the arms of a waiting neighbor, and she looked up at him with wide eyes.
“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice hoarse from the smoke.
The bearded man simply nodded and headed back toward the hydrant. The fire had begun to flare up again, and he knew he needed to act fast to save the family inside. He spun the cap on the hydrant open once more, and the water began to flow. He lifted his axe, directing the water towards the flames again.
The fire department finally arrived, but they were too late. The bearded man had already saved the family and put out the fire. The neighborhood residents stared at him in awe as he walked away, his beard and hair flowing around him like it was alive with energy. His axe at his side gave the men watching the sense that the two were friends leaving for home after a great adventure.
They would never forget the miracle they had just witnessed, the bearded man seemingly coming out of nowhere. Appearing from, then returning to, the woods and saving their neighborhood. They would never know his name, but they would always remember the hero who had once walked among them.
Michael Trump 
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