by Cheree Alsop
I made out the form of Uncle Rick near the middle of the barn. Somehow, a beam had fallen and trapped Jaren underneath it in the blazing inferno. Uncle Rick was trying to lift the timber off him, but it weighed too much.
“Kelson, help!” he shouted.
I couldn’t blink, I couldn’t move. The sound of the fire devouring the wood around me had my feet pinned to the floor as effectively as if the beam was on me instead of Jaren.
Magnum’s shoulder brushed mine as he ran past me. He grabbed the beam and tried to lift it with Uncle Rick, but they couldn’t make it budge.
“Kelson!” Magnum shouted.
Two scenes danced in front of my vision. In one, a warehouse reached around me with faded white paint that peeled under the fingers of fire. A car that had once filled the walls with music sat as an empty shell that burned from the inside. Beer bottles were scattered along the floor and the trash barrel was overturned.
In the other, my uncle and friend tried to free my cousin before he burned to death in a barn painted red and tan by loving hands. I had learned to milk cows under its roof, and saw Uncle Rick smile with pride in my accomplishments for the first time. Cassidy had patched the roof numerous times, though a small leak still persisted stubbornly in one corner. Now, the roof burned red with raging flames.
I couldn’t face it. I couldn’t stand in fire again and watch a loved one burn. It followed me. It was a part of me. I felt like I burned from the inside out.
The visions blurred together and I saw the warehouse stairs where the barn stairs stood. Two forms ran up them, one with long blonde hair and eyes that I knew would be as blue as a summer day—my sister Zoey. The other had dark hair and a grin that charmed all the girls, my best friend Jeff. Their forms faded as the stairs burned and fell away just as they had that night.
Smoke clouded the air. “Kelson,” Uncle Rick shouted.
“Kelson, save him,” Zoey’s voice echoed.
I blinked at the sound of her voice. I took a step forward, suddenly free of the fears that held me. I ran through the fire to Uncle Rick’s side and picked up the beam with all the strength I possessed. The other two barely had a chance to lift before the beam was high enough for Jaren to wiggle free. The four of us stumbled out of the barn. A beam creaked, and then the entire roof fell in.
I had to get away from the fire. Aunt Lauren threw her arms around Uncle Rick and Jaren with tears streaming down her face. I walked past without really seeing them and went straight inside to my cot. I collapsed in a heap on the bed and felt the tears flow down my cheeks.
The kitchen door opened and footsteps came inside.
“What was that?” Magnum demanded from the kitchen.
The door opened again and more footsteps sounded. “The fire department is on its way,” Aunt Lauren said. “But there won’t be anything to save.”
“What happened to Kelson?” Magnum demanded.
All sounds in the kitchen stopped. I wasn’t crying, but I couldn’t stop the tears that continued to overflow. I glared at the darkness in the living room, unbroken for one blissful moment by the flames that lay dormant in the fireplace.
“Oh, Rick,” Aunt Lauren whispered.
“Somebody fill me in,” Magnum said, his voice softer in answer to Aunt Lauren’s tone.
Aunt Lauren took a calming breath. “Kelson lost his sister in a warehouse fire a short while ago. His mom sent him here to help him get over it.”
I gritted my teeth against the pain that flared through my heart. There was no getting over it. I was broken, haunted, no longer functioning at the level of a normal human being. I had almost let my cousin die because I couldn’t figure out the difference between reality and a nightmare.
“What do we tell Sarah?” Aunt Lauren asked.
The sound of the fire engine’s siren answered as it raced down the road. They went outside to meet the crew and help out in any way they could, leaving me to numb silence.
“Are you all right, Kelson?” Magnum asked from the kitchen.
I didn’t answer. He waited a few minutes, then crossed into the living room.
“I didn’t know,” he said quietly. “I hadn’t heard what happened to your sister. I’m sorry.”
He waited, but when I still didn’t respond, he set a hand on my shoulder. “Let me know if you need a drinking buddy.”
I nodded. He squeezed my shoulder and left through the kitchen door. His absence made the room feel small and strange, as if I sat in a black box without any of my senses. I felt numb and vacant, like a stranger in my own body.
Mom’s voice pierced the void. I didn’t know how many hours had passed. It was still dark outside, but the fire engine had left. Mom had gotten a job at one of the town’s two grocery stores. She didn’t deserve to come home from a long day of work to find out what had happened.
Hushed voices spoke outside, then Mom’s footsteps raced through the kitchen and up the hallway to the living room.
“Oh, Kelson,” she exclaimed. She threw her arms around me and held me tight as if afraid until that moment that I had been burned in the fire.
“I’m all right,” I forced myself to say.
“You’re shaking like a leaf!” she exclaimed. She smoothed my hair over and over again, holding me against her like she would never let me go. “You’re all right,” she said, probably as much for herself as for me. “You’re all right.”
More tears broke free. I didn’t know a person could cry so many tears and still have some left over. I didn’t bother to dry them because others took up residence the second they were gone. I had never been a crier, and now it seemed my body was determined to make up for the times I had forced back the tears.
Mom just held me as if she knew it was exactly what I needed. She cried into my hair. I felt the rivulets soak down to my scalp and my soul. “It’s okay,” I found myself whispering. “Everything’s all right, Mom. We’re all right.”
She eventually sat back and wiped her face, watching me through the darkness of the unlit living room as if wishing she could read my thoughts.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
I nodded even though it wasn’t true. I could be strong for Mom. She didn’t need to suffer with me.
I stood up.
“Where are you going?” she asked, her voice filled with concern.
“I need to get some fresh air. I think I’ll go for a ride.” I touched her shoulder. “Will you be okay?”
She took a deep breath and let it out in a rush. “I will.” Her eyebrows pulled together. “Don’t be too long.”
“I won’t.”
I wiped my cheeks as I made my way to the kitchen. Uncle Rick and Aunt Lauren were talking and holding hands across the oblong kitchen table. When I appeared, they stopped whatever they were saying. Aunt Lauren rested a hand on her stomach and Uncle Rick squeezed her other hand reassuringly. I rushed through the mudroom and out the back door, forgetting to catch the screen before it slammed shut behind me.
I ran back up the road to where I had left the four-wheeler. My ribs ached with every pounding step, and I was glad for the distraction to my thoughts. I tripped on a clump of weeds and rolled, but righted myself and kept running. My heart pounded as if the flames were chasing me, lapping at my ankles and forcing me to run faster. I collapsed against the four-wheeler, but refused to let myself pause because pausing meant thinking, and I couldn’t let myself do that.
I climbed on the four-wheeler and drove to Madelyn’s house. It was the only place I wanted to be. She was the only one who could calm my thoughts. I parked in her driveway instead of stopping at the corner of their lot and jogged across the lawn.
It was so early in the morning that the sun hadn’t even touched the horizon with gray, but the lights were on and commotion showed through the living room window. On impulse, I knocked on the front door instead of climbing the tree to her room.
The door opened and my heart slowed at Madelyn’s pale face. “Kelson, what are you doi
ng here?” she asked.
Caught off guard, I took a step back. “I just needed to talk to you. I—”
She shook her head before I finished speaking. “Mom’s sick. We’re taking her to the hospital.”
“Madelyn, let’s go,” her father called from the garage.
“I’ve got to go,” she said, her expression desperate.
I caught her hand. “Maddy.” At the look on her face, I gave her what I hoped was a reassuring smile. “Everything will be okay.”
She nodded, gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, then ran through the kitchen to the garage. I was left in the open doorway and listened to the sound of their van as they pulled around the four-wheeler and out of the driveway.
She was gone. My rock, my peace, my heart. I shouldn’t have felt betrayed by her absence; her mother needed her there and she was where she needed to be, but I couldn’t face the emotions that threatened to tear me apart from the inside out. I couldn’t face the side of me that surfaced beneath the fire, the coward who froze instead of saving lives, the person who brought danger to those around him.
A voice deep inside said that wasn’t true, but the whirlwind of my thoughts was full of such chaos that I couldn’t listen. I didn’t recognize myself anymore. I was a shell of despair, a hopeless wreck who let his sister die and almost lost his cousin in yet another inferno.
I crouched on the porch and held my head in my hands. A cry of defeat broke from my lips. I no longer knew myself. I despised myself.
I slammed a fist on the wooden porch. Chips broke where the brown paint was crumbling. It felt like my sanity, slipping through my fingers as so much dust.
I jumped to my feet and ran to the four-wheeler. The hum of the tires against the road was loud in my ears as I pushed the machine faster than I ever had before. I sped past the Ashbys’ house and continued up the road to the junkyard. I didn’t slow when I hit the dirt road. The four-wheeler slid on the dirt as it skidded around the corner. I jerked the handlebars hard and stood, forcing it to stay upright. I drove around the shack and braked to a halt. A cloud of dust surrounded me when I climbed off.
I barely saw the two forms sitting in the shadows on the porch.
“Where ya goin’?” Jagger asked.
“I’m not sure,” I replied. I pulled the door to the lean-to open and backed my motorcycle out.
“You’re not going alone,” Magnum said. He moved his motorcycle out as well and pulled on his helmet.
Jagger put a hand on my motorcycle. “Yur all right,” he said, his gaze boring into mine.
I shook my head. “I don’t know what I am anymore.” My steady tone surprised me. Inside, I felt like everything was shaking, threatening to explode.
“Ta fire warn’t yur fault,” Jagger said. He stood in front of the motorcycle with a hand on the shield to keep me from pulling forward.
I closed my eyes, unable to meet the directness of his gaze. “If I don’t ride, I’m going to do something stupid. I need to get away.”
I heard Jagger step back. “’Member, you’ve always got a place to come.”
I opened my eyes and looked at the gauges on the motorcycle. “I know,” I said quietly.
He limped back to the porch.
I started the engine and heard Magnum do the same. I pulled on my helmet and revved the throttle. The growl of the motor combated some of the heaviness that ate at my mind. I pulled around the shack and took off up the road. My tires skidded when I hit the pavement, but I rolled the throttle and sped up the road.
I didn’t let myself think. My motorcycle raced through town with the efficient ruthlessness of a well-working machine. I didn’t slow down. I swerved around the two farm trucks that were on the road, then drove through the red of the single light in town and crossed into the dark wash of predawn. The growl of the engine filled my heart and soul, crowding out all other thoughts but the call of unknown roads and the darkness beyond.
I lost track of the distance I traveled. I forgot why I was running and what waited for me when I got back. The only world I knew danced within my headlights, a pale expanse brushed at the edges with shadow, a beam that threatened to be consumed by the black agony that surrounded it.
The road narrowed and took a turn into a mountain pass I had never traveled. I didn’t slow the bike. Instead, I pushed it faster, rounding bends with my knee scraping the ground, barely righting it before another turn. At the last bend, the valley spread out before me. Scattered dots of light showed from the few farmhouses awake before the sun. The homes were nestled in darkness, cozy in their blissful ignorance.
I drove toward the edge. Darkness bounced beyond my visor with open arms to embrace me. I took an accepting breath.
At the last second, I grabbed the hand brake and stomped on the foot brake. The tires locked and the motorcycle slid. I jerked forward when it stopped at the farthest edge of the road, and stared at the depth beyond my front tire. I turned off the engine. My heart pounded in my throat with an erratic rhythm. It was a few seconds before I could reassure myself that I was still alive, not broken and twisted in the valley far below where even the rising sunlight didn’t reach.
A curse sounded to my right. The rough scrape of a motorcycle kickstand sliding against the pavement echoed harshly against the rock wall behind us. A loud bang sounded when Magnum ripped off his helmet and threw it to the ground. His footsteps were loud in the sudden silence.
“I thought you weren’t going to stop,” he said, his voice thick.
I shook my head. “I didn’t think I was either.”
Magnum hit the back of my helmet so hard my ears rang. I stared at him in surprise. He glared back at me, his fists clenched and expression more angry than I had ever seen him.
“Don’t you ever do anything so stupid again,” he said, his shoulders tight and chest rising and falling as if he was fighting to catch his breath. He grabbed the front of my shirt. “Don’t you ever think to throw your life away so cheap.” He forced my visor up so we were staring eye to eye. “I refuse to let a friend die because he feels guilt from some freak accident.”
I stared at him, my heart pounding and my thoughts puny compared to the outrage on his face. It was then that I remembered he had watched another friend die, his best friend Kyle who perished racing a train on a motorcycle.
“Life is always worth living, always,” Magnum said, his eyes boring into mine. “Say it.”
I swallowed against the knot in my throat.
“Say it!” Magnum yelled.
“Life is worth living,” I whispered.
“Louder,” Magnum demanded.
“Life is worth living,” I yelled.
He let me go and I slumped on the motorcycle. I felt drained as if I had been sick for weeks.
“Don’t ever do that to me again,” he said in a voice so low I barely heard it.
We stared out at the dark gray expanse in silence. Eventually, Magnum took a deep breath. “I need to get some sleep.” He glanced at me. “Crash at my house—it’s closer. You can call your mom and tell her where you are.”
The thought of what I would meet at the Ashby house filled me with dread. I nodded. Magnum climbed back onto his motorcycle and led us at a much slower pace toward his house. By the time we pulled into the cracked driveway, the horizon was light gray and roosters were already calling the farmers to rise.
“MOM?”
“Kelson, are you okay?” The worry in Mom’s voice tore at my heart.
“I’m fine. I’m at Magnum’s.”
“I was so worried,” she said. “You promised you wouldn’t be long.”
“I just . . . I had some things to work out, so we took the bikes on a ride.”
I sat on one of Magnum’s rickety porch steps watching the sunrise bathe the houses in a wash of pink and orange. Birds chirped in the trees and a dog barked in the distance. The sunrise felt like something new, a gift when I had all but given up.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” Mom said. T
he depth to her voice said she guessed more than I let on.
“Magnum’s a good friend,” I replied. The words couldn’t cover what I owed to him.
“I’m grateful you have him.”
“Me too.”
An uncomfortable silence fell. Mom and I had never been good at discussing emotional stuff. That had always been Zoey’s realm. She had been the peacemaker and therapist of the family. I closed my eyes and rubbed a hand across them, trying to think of what Zoey would say. She would just tell the truth.
“Mom?”
“Yeah?”
I let out a slow breath. “I’m sorry I worried you. I shouldn’t have left like that; I just didn’t know how to deal with everything.”
“You carry so much by yourself.” She sniffed. I realized she was crying but trying not to sound like it. “I just want you to come to me if you need someone to talk to.”
“I will, Mom. I promise.” She needed closure as much as I did. I swallowed the knot in my throat. “I love you, Mom.”
I could hear the smile in her voice when she replied. “I love you, Kelson. Take as much time as you need there. Just promise me a hug when you get back.”
“It’s yours,” I promised.
THE HARD SPRINGS OF an unfamiliar couch told me I wasn’t on my cot. I opened my eyes a crack and met the serious gaze of a dirty-faced five-year-old.
“Leave Kelson alone, Tommy,” Magnum said. “Go brush your teeth; breakfast is almost ready.”
The little boy obliged, but it was obvious he would have preferred to continue staring at me.
Memories of the day before crowded my mind. I sat up and rubbed my face.
“Sleep all right?”
I cracked a smile at Magnum’s doubtful tone. “This couch isn’t bad.”
He snorted. “That’s because you were only on it for two hours.” He jerked his head toward the kitchen. “C’mon. Eggs are ready.”
“You cook?” I asked in amazement as I followed him through the door.