His gaze was on the horizon. I reached over and pulled him to me. The keys fell from my hand to the sidewalk below. I could hear the sirens off in the distance. Around the edge of the building, everyone filled the parking lot to watch the fire race through the building. It seemed the medical side of the hospital had been spared by the storm.
A loud boom shattered the silence and my foot slipped off the rung. I curled my toes over the edge to keep from being thrown off.
Noah stumbled into the concrete lip but seemed unaware he’d almost toppled over.
“Lift your leg.” Noah blinked several times but didn’t look at me. “Lift your leg. I can’t pick you up.” He bent his knee and I pulled him backward, putting his foot on the rung. The rubber soles of his shoes squeaked. His other leg was more difficult until I figured out to put his hands on the rails first.
“Now, step down.” He did. “Again.” His hand slipped and I pressed my chest to his back, keeping him in place. “C’mon, Noah, I need you to work with me.” Smoke coiled up from the windows below and orange flames broke through the concrete.
We kept going. One rung at a time. I counted them, and then quit after I reached eighty. A few feet from the ground the ladder shifted. Above us chunks of brick rained down. I covered Noah with my shoulders. Small pebbles bit into my back.
A few more steps and the feel of solid ground and wet grass seemed like a dream. Red flashes of light joined the lightning. The firemen turned their hoses on the building and the shush of water competed with the crackle and rumble of flames.
There were people just around the corner. They could help us. They could get us clean clothes and take care of our wounds. They could also take us away from each other.
On the other side was a field, then a thick line of trees. It looked black against the gray sky. I didn’t know what was out there. We could starve or die of thirst, or the animals could eat us. But I knew by now there were worse things than death.
I grabbed Noah’s hand and we headed towards the woods.
*** *** ***
From the shadows we watched the ambulances gather to collect the injured and the coroner come for the dead. There were so many bodies they had to lay them out in rows on the sidewalk. Wrapped in blue blankets they looked like Pick-up-Sticks.
Noah stood beside me as silent as the trees. The leaves were thin and the faint light broke through, painting his face in a series of silver lines and highlighted shadows. Covered in soot and dressed in gray scrubs, we all but sank into the darkness. I held Noah’s hand because I was afraid he’d be swallowed by the forest and swept away.
When the news van showed up we left. Leaves clung to our legs and feet. Sticks snapped like firecrackers with every step. I didn’t worry about anyone hearing us. Everyone was concentrating on the fire. Black smoke weighed down by the rain blanketed the trees. Even when we were miles away I could still smell the bitter scent of burning plastics and the sweeter odor of burning flesh.
I wasn’t sure what was going to happen to us. I only knew we couldn’t go back. They’d take us away. Lock us up. I don’t think it was the fear of having part of my brain cut out that drove me to keep walking, but the fear of losing a piece of my soul.
Noah stopped and so did I.
“What’s wrong?”
He pointed.
I squinted into the shadows. The sun was almost gone now and with the clouds it was nighttime under the trees. I saw the window first then found the wall of the barn it was carved in. The wood structure was the color of the trees and blanketed in moss, all but consumed by nature. Up close, I could smell animals. The scent was strong enough to rival the stench of smoke in our skin and hair. Beyond the building was the tree line and I could see a small white house. A single light burned in one of the windows.
We went in the barn. There was fresh hay all on the floor and a cow stood at the far end where the doors were open. A small group of geese made angry protests as I led Noah into the feed stall. There were no animal droppings in here. I broke open one of the bales and we lay down.
Night closed in and the last of the heat was leached out of our skin. Noah shivered. I pulled the rest of the bale over us. We’d itch tomorrow but at least we’d be warm tonight.
I put my arms around him and he held me back. For the first time in months I found true peace and slept.
Chapter Twenty
The gas main explosion at the Meadow Wood Psychiatric Hospital was still making the news six months later. Now instead of pictures of the burning building and body bags, they showed clips from the court room of families waiting to hear the verdict on their lawsuit against the hospital. The defense’s argument was that the lightning had been an act of God no one could have prevented.
Noah and my name appeared among the hundred and twelve missing and presumed dead. If the lawsuit went in favor of the families, Emma was finally going to get her inheritance.
When the final count had been made, over eighty victims had been accounted for. Unidentified pieces had been buried in a communal grave. Six survived. I only recognized the man who’d always wandered the hall wearing the diaper. The rest had been too severely burned.
In between blurbs about the lawsuit, there were snippets from Atlanta’s City Hall, where people picketed for new legislation to improve safety conditions in all the hospitals across the state. Experts talked about requiring fire exits and sprinkler systems, while the board members argued about the cost and how it would make care for the average citizen unaffordable.
I turned off the small black and white TV sitting on the counter next to the toaster and finished cutting up the watermelon I’d gotten from the produce stand down the road. It had cost me a whole fifty cents but it was worth it. I’d been waiting all winter to get to eat watermelon with Noah.
A knocking sound came from the back porch. “I’m hurrying. If I go any faster I’ll cut off my thumb.”
The wood sighed under my feet as I carried two large slices and a dish towel out the door. I put the slices between us. It was a warm day for May so I took Noah’s shirt off.
“No need to get messier than we need to.”
He smiled and so did I.
“Now.” I broke off a piece and slipped it between his lips. Noah’s eyes fluttered shut and his nostrils flared. His tongue pushed against my fingers as he sucked. “You like that?”
He nodded.
I gave him another.
When I moved, the card in my pocket crinkled. “Oh, I almost forgot.” I put down the watermelon and pulled out the wrinkled postcard. “Look who wrote us.” I pointed to Elliot’s name. The ink was smudged. I wasn’t too sure but I think he’d been crying when he wrote it. “He got our card and wrote back.”
Noah touched it then looked at me.
“He won’t tell.”
Besides I didn’t sign the post card I’d sent him or write anything on it. The return address was the stable where I worked. It was owned by a woman named Helen. Her girlfriend went by Kelly. They had no problems with calling me Jack.
The card I’d picked out to send to Elliot had the old Union train on it. I’d hoped he would know who it was from. In the letter Elliot begged me to call him. Told me he loved me and hoped I was happy. Elliot and Mikey had both signed it.
I was very happy.
The little farm house we lived in was old and drafty but the walnut trees were thick, and when the wind made them sway the dappled light on the grass almost looked like ripples in the ocean. A path in the back cut down to Lake Lanier so there was even water and a place to fish.
Helen let us live here for free. It was close to the barn so if her show horses fussed at night I could just walk right over to check on them.
One day, Noah and me would have our house on the beach, but for now we were happy, and after weeks of sleeping anywhere dry we could find and digging through garbage and scrounging in the dark like raccoons, I wasn’t about to complain. We had warm clothes, a mattress to sleep on, money to save, and
each other.
I read the card out loud to Noah. “You’d like Elliot and Mikey.”
He took the card from my hand. Noah had started looking at magazines a couple of weeks back but I wasn’t sure he could read them and I was kind of afraid to ask. He was drawing again though, and that was more than enough.
I offered Noah another piece of watermelon and he took it from me. He smiled as he pressed it to my lips. Sweet and sun warmed, it was almost as pleasant as his kisses.
Almost.
JACK Page 20
