“Have you seen this guy?” David bent his neck at a sharp downward angle to watch his phone. “Last week, he was doing Jesus tricks at a house party. You think it’s real?”

  Josue clicked his tongue at the short man. His curly black hair hung in tiny ringlets from his head, draping over his eyes like a curtain to the world.

  “Man, put your phone down and focus, we’re about to set it off.”

  “But do you think it’s real? This could be big. What if he is Jesus? The second coming and all.”

  “Jesus ain’t come for us in two thousand years, I don’t think he ever will.” With a sigh, the man put the phone into his pocket and started raking.”

  Gasoline sloshed as Josue tipped his own can over the pile of half-dead brush.

  “You think we really need the gasoline?” David eyed it cautiously.

  Brush burnings didn’t often need a starter, but Josue liked to kick them off with a touch of fluid to be quick. Never more than a light sprinkle to start a flame. It wasn’t good for the soil to spill too much, and it wasn’t fun for the neighbors who watched as one pile of ten rose twice as high as the rest.

  “I know what I’m doing.” He said.

  “If you say so.”

  The smell of it teased a sneeze from his nose. Josue liked the smell. It was one of those sensory things that weren’t particularly good, and yet, at the same time, enjoyable. If there was a word for that kind of thing, Josue didn’t know it. He just knew there was something about the smell of gasoline. The farm had a few smells like that— manure, engine oil, even the dry brush.

  “Some people are calling him a real god.” David said as he poured. “He said he was a god, and now he’s doing these magic tricks. I’m just saying, something’s weird about it.”

  “Can’t trust videos anymore.” Josue said absently. “AI and all that.”

  “People are analyzing the videos and saying they’re too real to fake.”

  “A bunch of bull-“ Josue’s hand slipped, dropping the can and spilling gasoline into a small moat of dirt and brush. “-shit.”

  “Is that going to be okay?” David asked meekly.

  “It’ll be fine.” Josue eyed the puddle of dark liquid. “When you light it, just make sure you run quick.”

  “When I light it?” He fished the lighter from his pocket and tossed it to Josue. “That’s all you.”

  Josue capped the gas can and handed it to David. Carefully, he flicked the lighter a few times, just to make sure it worked. With one hand covering from the wind, he lowered the lighter and sparked it on a particular patch of yellow brush, a few feet from the puddle of gasoline. That would give him time to get away. Probably. He’d set off a gas puddle before a few years back, a little larger than this one. That day, he lost all the hair on the left side of his body. He’d be sure not to do that again.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  The brush caught. Jumping to his feet, Josue ran after David to the next pile. Before he had taken five steps, he felt the heat push against him

  BOOM!

  The explosion threw him to the ground. His back was hot and bare. He smelled burnt hair and gasoline. Dry soil crunched in heavy thuds and David ran up to him.

  “Shit, you alive?” The man asked.

  Rubbing his hands over his head, back and chest, Josue found that he was, in fact, alive. The back of his coat was singed, along with the back of his head. Jordan wouldn’t be happy, she had just given him a haircut that morning.

  “Yeah.” Josue could have sworn smoke came out of his mouth. “I’ll live.”

  “You’ll live? Man you flew!” David laughed. “A smoke trail and everything. Shit I thought I just watched my boss die.”

  “I told you I had it under control.” Josue coughed as he sat up. “What did that fella say in the video? I’m the God of Gasoline. Don’t you forget it.”

  As he said it, Josue felt that there was something he had just remembered that he had forgotten. He couldn’t place what it was, but he knew he had forgotten it, like walking into a room and leaving the reason at the doorway. It lingered for a moment, then vanished.

  “Sure you are.” David held out a hand. Josue took it and rose to his feet. “And I’m the God of Lottery Jackpots.”

  The short man flinched.

  “What’s wrong?” Josue asked.

  “Did you hear that?”

  The two looked around the open field. The brush pile crackled behind them. A creek at the field’s edge trickled onward. A bird silently flew overhead. The evening was quiet.

  Josue turned to David. His wide eyes seemed to sparkle with soft, golden lights.

  “I didn’t hear anything.” Josue said.

  David’s mouth was slightly ajar. He looked directly at Josue, but his gaze was distant. He nodded absently, then turned, dragging his rake along.

  “Mind if we call it a day?” He spoke flatly. “I think I’m tired.”

  “Sure.” Josue figured a near-death experience was a good sign to call it. “Too tired for a beer?”

  Without answering, David walked toward the truck, the rake clawing lines in the dirt behind him like a hand clinging desperately to the earth.

  “Alright.” Josue said to himself. He sniffed. It still smelled of gasoline in the air. David had the canister, capped and in his hand as he walked away. Had more spilled when he was helping Josue up? He looked around, but the soil around him was dry as bone.

  He sniffed again. It was strong. Like someone had placed a cup of gasoline under his nose. Sweat stuck his shirt to his torso. He peeled the fabric away and sniffed it. It reeked of gasoline.

  “Huh?”

  Had he spilled some on himself without noticing? Jordan wouldn’t let him within five feet of the house if he was doused in gasoline. That was great. Nearly died, and he’d have to take a horse bath with a hose in forty degree weather.

  “That’s karma,” He cursed himself as he made his way after David. “Thinking I could control fire and gasoline.”