Save Me

by Lisa Scottoline

  Klieglights lit up the façade of the cafeteria, making supersized shadows of the workmen as they went back and forth from the cafeteria to the dumpster with wheelbarrows, tarps, and trash bags of charred debris. Some of the workmen were building a plywood wall, probably the one that Mr. Rodriguez had mentioned, and a workman in a T-shirt and Carhartt overalls smiled as he walked to the pickup in front of her car. He was carrying a heavy-duty laptop, and he stowed it inside, slammed the door, and came over to her, with a confident stride.

  “Can I help you?” he asked, in a friendly way. In the reflected light, Rose could see that he had an easy grin, a longish nose, and dark eyes under a white plastic hardhat with a Phillies sticker. “Name’s Kurt Rehgard.” He stuck out a large hand, and Rose shook it, feeling her fingers crunch.

  “Rose. I’m just looking around.”

  “Been a lot of that today.”

  “I bet.” Rose eyed the bustling scene. “You guys are working late.”

  “All night. The bigwigs want this school up and running, time is of the essence, and we don’t mind, I’ll tell you that. We’re all loving the OT, especially in this economy.” Kurt gestured to the work crews behind him. “My crew is all from Phoenixville, the electrical contractor’s from Pottstown, and the GC’s from Norristown. The district wanted all new on site, on account of the lawsuits they expect.”

  “There’s more than one lawsuit?” Rose felt her chest tighten.

  “Hell, yeah. Everybody’s pointing fingers and who’s responsible for what, who caused this, who did that.”

  “I heard it was a gas leak and faulty wiring.”

  “I’m not supposed to say, on pain of death.” The carpenter drew a dirty finger across his throat. “You a reporter?”

  “No way.” Rose smiled. “Just a mom. You were saying, about the lawsuits?”

  “Startin’ in already. The first electrical contractor says it was the GC’s fault, and the first GC says it was the gas company’s fault, and the HVAC guys are in trouble because the ductwork was too close for code, and somebody said the fire used it to spread so fast.” Kurt shook his head. “All the fire marshals, building inspectors came around, even the FBI, because of the fatalities. Then the lawyers and the so-called experts they hired, all taking pictures. It’s a damn circus.”

  Rose’s head was spinning. It sounded like the lawsuits that Leo talked about at dinner, and she hoped they wouldn’t be caught in the middle, becoming the lawsuit that people talked about at dinner.

  “You say your child goes here?”

  “Yes. My daughter’s in third grade, and school’s open tomorrow, which seems kind of strange to me.”

  “Not at all. It’s not unsafe or anything. The kids can’t go in the cafeteria, and there’ll be fire and water damage crews in the hallways, but your kid will be safe in the rest of the building. Don’t worry.” Kurt cocked his head. “I thought you were a lawyer, that’s why I came over. That, and to see if you were married.”

  “Thanks, but I am married. To a lawyer.”

  “No!” Kurt pretended he’d been shot, staggering backwards comically. “Dump his lame ass!”

  Rose laughed.

  “Hey, if you like, I’ll show you inside. You’ll see, it’s safe. You want a quick tour?”

  “I’d love to,” Rose answered, intrigued. “Is that kosher?”

  “The bigwigs are gone, and my guys don’t care. Act like a lawyer.”

  “I can do that.” Rose ducked under the tape.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Rose followed Kurt beyond the cordon, past a paint-spattered boombox blasting vintage Aerosmith. Heads turned as they stepped into the klieglights and tramped across the playground, churned to muddy spots by the wheelbarrows and foot traffic. She smiled in a professional way, though she knew they weren’t fooling anybody. Workmen looked up and nodded hello before they returned to their tasks. Their faces were streaked with sweat, and they seemed not to recognize her, either because they weren’t local or they’d been working nonstop, with no time for TV news.

  Rose asked, “I guess you rebuild the cafeteria after you throw all this stuff out, huh?”

  “Basically, yes. I’m with Bethany Run Construction, and we’ll do the demo, then the framing and construction. Here, follow me.” Kurt led her to the threshold of the playground exit, where the blackened double doors had been propped open with cinderblocks. Calcium-white light flooded the area, illuminating the hallway. Soot blanketed the walls, and the glass ceiling fixtures had been shattered.

  “My God,” Rose said half to herself.

  “The hall is messy, but structurally sound. There’s nothing unsafe about it, see? Got certified right off. It’ll be good to go as soon as we clean up the water.” Kurt walked ahead, gesturing at a series of noisy black machines. Hoses sprouted from each one, affixed to corrugated black mats that were duct-taped to the grimy floor. “Bet you’re wondering what these puppies are.”

  Rose was drawn to the cafeteria, which was a hellish sight. The tables, chairs, and decorated bulletin boards had been removed, leaving a black shell of a room. Smoke had blackened the walls, obscuring the cheery blue-and-white tiles, and the ceiling was gone, exposing steel joists, aluminum ductwork, and electrical wiring.

  “I’ll explain, hold on. It’s so damn noisy, I can’t stand it.” Kurt stepped to the first machine and pressed a red POWER button. The machine shuddered into silence, though the others thrummed loudly. “See, these are Injectidry machines. They’re on day and night. The water sprinklers went off here, and the machines suck the moisture out of the subfloor, so it doesn’t warp.”

  “Got it,” Rose said, but she couldn’t tear her eyes from the cafeteria. The floor tiles were cracked, and charred rubble lay in piles where it had been swept; broken ceiling tiles, split wooden beams, and filthy debris. The skylights were gone, and the blue tarp covering square holes they left behind made an azure glow, like a tropical sky.

  “Those machines over there, they’re different.” Kurt pointed down the hall to a series of tall gray machines, also boxlike and attached to a generator. “They’re dehumidifiers on steroids. Not the kind you have in your basement when the sump pump goes out, if you get me. They make sure no toxic mold gets a chance to form, in case you were worried about that for your kid. Did you say you have a boy or a girl?”

  “A girl.” Rose took a step toward the cafeteria, where the front wall of the kitchen had been demolished. She could see through to the industrial ovens and stainless steel shelving in the kitchen, which lay twisted and in pieces, like the residuum of a twenty-car collision. She could imagine how the blast had killed poor Serena and Ellen.

  “I have a niece that I’ve taken to Disney World, my sister’s kid. Her dad’s in Iraq, so I’m spending a lot of time with her. I taught her to throw, and she goes to the Phils games with me, too.” Kurt gestured at the hallway. “See, it’s all sound. I’d send my own niece here. You got nothing to worry about.”

  “Great.” Rose took another step down the hall, and from the new perspective could see that the explosion had blown away the wall between the kitchen and the teachers’ lounge, which was only partially blackened, but full of broken cabinetry and a yellow Formica counter that had been cracked into pieces, like a nightmare puzzle.

  “We’ll have this fixed up good as new. Better.” Kurt leaned over, lowering his voice. “You ask me, they opened too soon. You can’t rush a job, especially the electrical. It always bites you in the ass.”

  “I bet.” Rose came out of her reverie. “It’s sad to see where somebody died.”

  “Nobody suffered, if that helps you. The explosion was in the gas line in the back wall of the kitchen, a three-quarter inch pipe that feeds the oven in the kitchen and the teachers’ lounge. It took out everything instantly.”

  “How terrible,” Rose said, heavily. “A gas leak? Why didn’t they smell it?”

  “It was in the wall, and maybe they did, for all we know. Tell you something a
bout the smell of gas, you get desensitized. You smell it in the beginning, then you stop noticing it.” Kurt seemed to catch himself. “That’s not the official cause, they didn’t say that yet, and you didn’t hear it from me.”

  “Hear what?”

  Kurt laughed. “Let’s go.” He motioned, leading Rose back down the hall, out the exit door, and into the blinding klieglights. She put up her hands, shielding her eyes, and he held her elbow. “Watch out for that pile of junk.”

  “Oops!” Rose looked down at a heap of blackened debris on a tarp, a heartbreaking sight. Twisted pieces of rebar and busted dry wall mixed with a Toy Story lunchbox, a crushed juicebox, and a broken Sony PS2. She flashed on Amanda, showing her new iPod to the girls at the table. Suddenly, it struck her why Amanda had run back into the school. The blond teacher could have missed her running back in, like Leo had said, because she’d been on the other side of the students being evacuated to the playground.

  “An iPod,” Rose blurted out, and Kurt looked over.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Nothing,” Rose answered, saddened. Amanda lay in a coma tonight, because of a shiny new toy. And because of her.

  “Here, take my card.” Kurt dug in his pocket, extracted a wrinkled business card, and handed it to her. “Call me if you need a deck, or if you dump that husband of yours.”

  “Thanks.” Rose smiled.

  “Feel better, now that you’ve seen the school?”

  “Yes,” Rose lied, and when she turned away, she dropped the smile.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  “Hi, sweetie.” Rose entered Melly’s bedroom, where she was reading in bed, with Princess Google. The butterfly lamp on the night table cast a warm glow over her yellow comforter, whitewashed bureau, and matching desk, but the rest of the room was a Harry Potter shrine. A black Hogwarts banner hung above the headboard, and the bookshelf contained the thick books, figurines, a Sorting Hat, and new Hermione wand. The lower shelves held B-list books, which was everything not Harry.

  “Hi, Mom.” Melly peered over the top of Beedle the Bard. Her hair had been brushed out and lay wavy on the pillow.

  “How was your night?” Rose sat down on the edge of her bed and gave her a kiss. “What did you and Julie do?”

  “We watched Up.”

  “Sounds good.” Rose had told the babysitter, DVDs only. “Did you like it?”

  “Yes.” Melly placed her laminated bookmark carefully in the page, making sure the blue tassel showed, and closed the book.

  “Good. Hi, Googs.” Rose scratched Princess Google, and the spaniel raised her small, flat head and tucked into a ball of red-and-white patches.

  “Googie’s so cute.”

  “She is. Did she eat any underwear?”

  Melly smiled. “No, she was good, Mom. I let her out in the backyard. Two times.”

  “How was John?”

  “He pooped, and his face got all red.”

  “Great. Just so he didn’t eat any underwear.”

  Melly giggled. “You’re silly.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Was the funeral sad?”

  “Yes. It’s hard when people pass.”

  “Like Daddy.” Melly frowned, showing a tiny buckle in her smooth forehead.

  “Right.” Rose felt a surge of love and worry, eyeing Melly, who looked so happy and comfy in Leo’s Phillies T-shirt. “We have to make a decision about whether you should go to school tomorrow.”

  “Is it open?”

  “Yes. The cafeteria isn’t open, but the classrooms are. I was just there to see it.”

  “I know, I can smell.” Melly scrunched up her nose. “You smell like fire.”

  “Gross.” Rose hadn’t realized. “Anyway, it’s a half-day tomorrow. They’re going to have an assembly in the morning, about the people who died, then go back to class, then you’ll come home.”

  “Okay, I can go.”

  “Do you feel well enough?”

  “Yes.” Melly shrugged. “I’m not sick. The doctor said.”

  “I know, but if you feel tired or you just want to rest another day, you can stay home.” Rose was stacking the deck, but she couldn’t help herself. She was worried about the reception that Melly would get tomorrow. “How’s your throat?”

  “Okay. I can go. I’ll go.”

  “Well, then let me say this. You know that Amanda was caught in the fire, and you should know that there are some people who blame me about that.”

  “Why?”

  Rose kept it simple. “They say I saved you instead of her.”

  “I’m your kid.”

  Rose smiled. “I know, but really, I got Amanda to the door of the cafeteria, and when I went to get you, she ran back into the cafeteria. I think, after her iPod.”

  Melly blinked, and it seemed not to register that she’d been left for second. “I heard her talking about that iPod. It was her big brother’s. He got it for his birthday.”

  “Anyway, the other kids might say things to you, about that. Try to ignore them, and don’t answer, okay? Like the reporters, in a way.”

  “I’ll tell Ms. Canton. She’ll tell them not to.”

  Rose felt her heart sink. “Mel, listen, I have some news for you about Ms. Canton. She had an emergency with her family, and she had to leave school and go home.”

  “When is she coming back?”

  “She’s not. She had to move home, to be with her family.”

  “Why?” Melly frowned, confused.

  “I don’t know more than I told you. Somebody in her family is sick, and she has to take care of them. She went home for good.”

  “Forever?” Melly’s eyebrows flew upward, and Rose nodded, not hiding her disappointment.

  “Yes. I know you like her, and you know she likes you, so much. But she can’t help it, she has—”

  “She has to come back.” Melly raised her voice, anxious. “She’s the best teacher I ever had.”

  “She won’t be able to come back, but I hope she can call us, to talk and say hi to you, if she’s not too busy.”

  “But I like her. I want her to be my teacher.” Melly’s lower lip buckled, and Rose gave her a big hug.

  “I know, sweetie. I’m hoping they’ll get a new teacher you’ll like as much as her. You know, you don’t have to go tomorrow if you don’t want to.”

  “I want to, I just want her to be there.” Melly’s blue eyes glistened the way only a child’s can, showing all the hurt, unguarded and guileless. “Why didn’t they tell us this before?”

  “Nobody knew. Things like this happen, in life. Unexpected things, and people have to take care of their families.” Rose shifted on the bed, waking Princess Google, who moved her head to Melly’s leg and gazed up at her with round, melty brown eyes. “Look. Googie knows you’re upset.”

  “I know. It’s okay, Googs.” Melly stroked the dog’s head, her fingernails bright with pink polish, probably from the babysitter. “Don’t be sad, Googie Girl. Everything will be okay. Everything will turn out okay.”

  Rose fell silent, listening and watching, and it struck her that Melly was comforting herself.

  “Don’t worry, Googie. Don’t worry.” Melly kept petting the dog, who closed her eyes.

  “I think you’re making her feel better.”

  “I tell her all the time, don’t worry. But she still does.”

  “It’s hard not to, sometimes.”

  “She knows that.” Melly ran her hand down the spaniel’s coat to her feathery tail. “See, Mom, how this part is all white? Like a wiggly line down her back? That’s like a river, all along on her back, and the red parts are down the side.”

  “I see.” Rose smiled, and Melly walked her fingers up to the spaniel’s fluffy neck, then scratched her ears.

  “She likes it when I scratch here. She has mats in back of her ears, and I try to get the mats out. She doesn’t like the mats. She likes to look her best, so I help her.” Melly touched the russet patch on the spaniel’s h
ead. “This is from the Countess’s thumb, in England.”

  Rose had taught Melly that, one of the breed’s characteristics. “Remember what it’s called?”

  “Her ‘Blenheim spot,’ because the Countess of Marlborough used to rest her thumb there, waiting for her husband to come home from the Battle of Blenheim.”

  “Good for you.”

  “The Countess lived in Blenheim Palace, in England. Harry Potter is from England, too.”

  “Right.” Rose smiled.

  “That’s what I like about Googie. We both have a spot.”

  Rose blinked. Funny, she’d never made the connection. They’d gotten a Cavalier because she’d had one as a child and they were great with kids.

  “I tell her not to be sad about her spot. The Countess gave it to her, and that’s just the way she is.” Melly shrugged, stroking the little spaniel. “I tell her, the spot is part of her. Just like Harry Potter. She has other spots, too.” She pointed to the small spots on the dog’s leg. “I told her she shouldn’t worry about any of her spots.”

  “What does she say?”

  “She says she doesn’t. Other people do.” Melly kept petting the dog, whose eyes stayed closed, fringed with red eyelashes. “When I see her, I don’t see the spots, I just see her. And she’s beautiful.”

  Rose felt her throat catch. “I feel the same way. She’s the most beautiful dog I ever saw.”

  Melly looked up. “Am I beautiful, Mom?”

  “You sure are.”

  “As beautiful as you? You were a model, in magazines.”

  “Yes, and you know what I learned from all that?”

  “What?”

  “That beauty doesn’t really have anything to do with what we look like. It’s who we are inside, and what we do, in life. Googie’s beautiful because she has a beautiful little spirit inside her, and so do you.”

  “And so do you, Mom.” Melly smiled sweetly, and Rose smiled back.

  “Thanks, honeybun.”

  “I can go to school tomorrow.”