That Early November Night

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LAWRENCE, KANSAS - November 2, 1983

Dean joined his mother in Sam's nursery. "Come on, let's say good night to your brother."

Mary turned on the lights to reveal a six-month-old baby boy with brown hair. The boy looked at his mother and brother. Dean leaned over the side of the crib.

"Night, Sam," Dean said.

Mary leaned over her son. "Good night, love." She brushed Sam's hair back and kissed his forehead.

"Hey, Dean," a man greeted.

Dean turned and rushed over to the man. "Daddy!"

Almost two-year old Freddie ran in and plowed into his father. "Suprise!"

"Hey, buddy. Hey, little man." John picked Dean and Freddie up. "So, what do you think? You think Sammy's ready to toss around a football yet?"

Dean shook his head and laughed. "No, Daddy."

John grinned. "No."

Mary passed John, Freddie and Dean on her way out of the room. "You got them?"

"I got them." John hugged Dean and Freddie closer. "Sweet dreams, Sam."

Sam watched them go with a gurgle before trying to reach his toes.

The baseball-themed night-light near Sam's crib began to flicker while Sam watched.

In the master bedroom, lights flickered on the baby monitor sitting on the nightstand next to a photo of Mary and John. Strange noises came faintly from Sam's nursery and could be heard in Sam's baby monitor. Mary, asleep in bed, stirred. She turned on the light on the nightstand.

"John?" She glanced over to see he was gone and got up.

Mary made her way to Freddie's room.

"John? Is he hungry?" Mary asked.

'John' shook his head. "Shh."

"All right."

Mary headed back down the hallway. The light by the stairs was flickering. She frowned at tapped at it until the light steadied. "Hm."

She noticed more flickering light from downstairs and went to investigate. A war movie was on TV and John was asleep in the Lay-Z-Boy chair in front of the TV. Her eyes widened.

"Freddie! Freddie!" She ran up the stairs to Freddie's room.

Mary stopped short upon entering Freddie's room and screamed.

Freddie stared at the man. "Daddy?" He went to stand next to his mother.

Mary tried to push her son away, but Freddie refused to leave his mother.

John woke up. "Mary?" He scrambled out of the chair. "Mary!" He ran upstairs.

John burst into Freddie's room. "Mary."

The room was quiet and empty except for Freddie who had gotten back into bed, hugging his knees to his chest.

"Hey, Freddie. You okay?" John asked.

Something dark dripped next to Freddie and John touched it. Two more drops landed on the back of John's hand. It looked like blood. He looked up to see Mary sprawled on the ceiling. The stomach of her nightgown was red with blood and she stared at John as she struggled to breathe.

John collapsed on the floor, staring at his wife. "No! Mary!"

"Mommy!" Freddie screamed.

Mary burst into flames. The fire spread over the ceiling. John stared, frozen. Freddie continued screaming. John, suddenly reminded he wasn't alone, got up and scooped Freddie from his bed, and rushed from the room. He rushed to Sam's nursery and grabbed him from the crib.

Dean was awake and coming to investigate. "Daddy!"

John pushed Sam and Freddie towards Dean and said, "Take your brothers outside as fast as you can and don't look back! Now, Dean, go!"

Dean turned and ran.

John turned back to the room. "Mary!"

The entire room was engulfed in flames and Mary could barely be seen.

"No!"

Dean ran outside, holding Sam, and Freddie's hand. "It's okay, Sammy. It's okay, Freddie."

John ran outside and scooped up his children, carrying them away. "I gotcha."

Fire exploded from Sam's bedroom window.

The Lawrence Fire Department arrived. A firefighter got out of a fire truck and took over at the gauges for another firefighter.

"I got it," the firefighter said. "You go hold the line up."

The second firefighter went to the back of the truck and took a hose from a third firefighter. He took the hose towards the house where a fourth firefighter was spraying through Sam's nursery window. A paramedic opened the back of an ambulance.

A police officer waved some neighbors back. "Stay back. You have to stay back."

Across the street from the house, John, Freddie and Dean sat on the hood of John's Impala, John holding Sam.

John silently looked up at the remnants of the fire as he held his youngest son.

Freddie licked his lips, frowning at the strange taste before cuddling closer to his father.

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