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flames.
    The conflagration was fueled by bursts of silver and gold and red and green sparks as various chemicals and compounds ignited in the blaze. We could hear the whistle of Piccolo Petes and the staccato bursts of firecrackers and the flash of sparklers and Roman candles as they exploded from the heat. In fact, if it weren’t for the absolute devastation of the building, you could have almost described it as “pretty.” But it wasn’t pretty.
    Not in the least.
    While Janice and the others helped Lars and me out of the pond, Ruth ran to our car to fetch some towels. I thanked Lars for saving my life, even though it felt like I’d been hit by a freight train. Han-wu ran around making sure that no one was hurt in the accident, while Fie-tann, manager of the factory, made sure the fire didn’t spread to the rest of the complex. The workers fought to get the blaze under control. There were hoses and bucket brigades everywhere you looked.
    During all of the chaos, Jonny and Sarah had slipped behind the moving truck, where they took a few moments to decide which country they should run away to. They found a hiding spot behind the front tire where they waited for the next explosion, the one that would happen once I got my hands on them. I came around the corner and found the two of them crouched down in a huddle, shivering like two rabbits caught in a trap. I stood over them, hair and clothes dripping from the pond, a thunderstorm painted on my face. The two children could guess what was coming next.
    Sarah whimpered, “I’m Sorry ?”
    â€œ Sorry ?! You’re Sorry ?! You’re gonna be Sorry!”
    I gathered what was left of my raveled nerves and prepared to unleash a barrage of angry words upon my two children just as I heard the sound of the research building collapsing. The ground shook as the roof and walls caved in, raising a cloud of ash and smoke, until all that was left was a pile of smoldering rubble. I watched it through the windows of the truck.
    As it tumbled down, so did my out-of-control anger. Yelling wasn’t going to fix anything. Nothing could fix this. Instead, I pictured the crumbling building taking my career as a pastor down with it. How was I ever going to face the people of Boomtown after something like this? This wasn’t a dryer full of melted marshmallows or a cat covered in Vaseline. This was the disaster to beat all disasters!
    Deflated? Absolutely. Mortified? Certainly. Embarrassed? No doubt about it. But there simply isn’t a single word to describe how I was feeling. I don’t think the dictionary has invented the word for it yet.

CHAPTER 2
    The Big Bang Boom Box

    A s it turned out, I completely miscalculated the reaction of the people of Boomtown. We weren’t outcasts; we were celebrities! Word of the explosion spread quickly, so by the time we finally pulled up in front of our rental house, we were surrounded by people wanting to know the gritty details.
    One of those people was a man who showed up with his wife and several children. He slapped me on my sore back and spoke in a very loud voice, “My name is Matthieu LaPierre, and this is my wife, Pauline. We’re your neighbors, five doors down on the right. I just had to come on over and shake your hand!”
    â€œYou did?”
    â€œSure, sure! You really know how to make a splash! Burned down the research lab at the fireworks factory on your very first day! How about that! ”
    â€œIt was an accident. Really, we didn’t do it on purpose.”
    â€œâ€™Course you didn’t, I know that. But that doesn’t change anything. You done it! Wow! What a story! I wish I’da been there to do it myself!”
    â€œYou do?”
    â€œAbsolutely. I’ve never been lucky enough to burn anything down. My only real claim to fame is our twelve children.”
    â€œTwelve?”
    â€œYep, with lucky thirteen on the way. That’ll make a baker’s