She was out in the field getting ready to burn the brush pile when she remembered it was Guy Fawkes Day. She went round to the front of the house and loaded the collapsed form of the Halloween scare-crow and his pumpkin head into a wheelbarrow and she loaded it onto the brush, head grinning, arms akimbo. It was growing dark and fog was rising when she lit the brush pile.
It didn't take long for the neighbor children to appear.
``Who's that?'' they asked, ``Who's that you're burning?''
``That's Guy Fawkes. He tried to blow up the government in England a long time ago. English people burn him on a bon-fire every Guy Fawkes Day.''
``Why did he want to blow up the government?''
``I don't know. I think he was a Catholic and the Protestants and Catholics were fighting ...''
The fire was down to ashes and the children had all gone home to eat. She remained at the fire to make sure no errant wind should spread it and when the fog changed to a light drizzle she turned toward the house and found herself face to face with five angry women.
``What have you been telling our children?'' Donna asked. She was the youngest. Red wet nose and frizzled hair.
``You've got them all upset!'' another said.
``Burning Catholics! The very idea!'' the home schooler cried.
``Not even in Ireland!''
``Barbaric!''
``Its just an old custom,'' she said, ``people like it. There's a big fire and fireworks its more like Halloween here. No one cares about the history. The kids asked so I tried to tell them -''
``Just keep your pagan customs to yourself!''
Just then a spray paint can inadvertently thrown on the brush pile months before exploded in a shower of sparks. She leapt toward the dark cluster of women ``What if I don't? What if I don't?'' she hissed.