Surprises can be around any corner, such as this mural on the side of a building in downtown Prescott.
This calm scene is the view from our table a few moments before I had to run for my life.
The alarm sounded last Monday as I enjoyed lunch in a Prescott cafe with Jerry and my sister Jodee. I had just bit into a luscious, crumbly cherry scone when the blasting, earsplitting, teeth-jolting noise interrupted the moment of cherry deliciousness.
“BLAHHHHHHHH, BLAHHHHHHH, BLAHHHHHH.”
I put my hands over my ears, as did many of the other customers in the cafe. The fire alarm kept blaring, “BLAHHHH, BLAHHHHHHHHHHHHH” and blasted so loudly the dishes on the tables shook. I didn’t smell smoke. I didn’t see flames licking the walls. I decided we had a false alarm and someone would turn it off and all would be well again, albeit with less hearing ability. Instead, the alarm continued as customers in nearby tables calmly pushed back their chairs, stood and joined a mass exodus heading out the front door. What?! We need to leave the building? My sense of survival suddenly kicked into gear. If this is for real, I’m not sticking around while the burning roof collapses on our heads. Look out everyone, I’m getting out of here! Jerry slowly followed behind with his coffee mug in hand, strolling as casual as anyone not worried about the searing pain of being singed to a crisp. Jodee exited casually as well, thankfully with both my purse and hers in hand. (Thank you Jodee. I’m grateful for your quick-thinking.) All the customers and restaurant staff stood in the parking lot, grateful to be alive. Soon, we we’re notified the danger had passed and we were ushered back inside. As we took our seats back at our table, a fire truck pulled into the parking lot. If this had been a real fire, the firemen would have arrived in time to see a smoking pile of ashes that was once a cafe.
