Burn Girl

by Mandy Mikulencak

  I backed away, letting Lloyd slump to the floor, then shucked off my backpack. The house was dark except for moonlight that shone through the window openings cut in the plywood sheathing. A black stain widened on the floor near Lloyd’s head, but I couldn’t see how bad his wound was. I took off the fleece and balled it around my hand. The fabric, soaked from the rain, made a squishing sound when I pressed it to his skull to stop the bleeding. All that blood.

  I needed light. Even though the house didn’t have wiring yet, Frank had used heavy-duty extension cords to run electricity from the trailer to his thousand-watt halogen work lights. The powerful bulbs could illuminate the entire first floor while he was putting up drywall. I saw the outline of one at the far side of the room. I carefully made my way to it and felt along the floor for the extension cord. My shaking hands managed to fit the plug into the lamp’s socket.

  The instant shock of light and heat stunned me, and I stumbled backward. I turned to Lloyd. He moaned in pain but lay still.

  I gasped when I saw his face. The wheel chock to the head wasn’t his only injury. One eye was swollen shut, and his chin and cheek had cuts. Frank must have put up a fight before Lloyd knocked him out.

  I spotted another extension cord on the floor. Maneuvering behind Lloyd’s back, I wrapped the cord around his wrists and then around a wall stud. He groaned into consciousness and I backed away quickly. He looked like the subject of an interrogation gone very wrong.

  “Didn’t think you’d come.” He spat blood onto the floor, but most remained in the spit that clung to his chin.

  I hadn’t smelled gasoline before, but now the stench filled my nostrils and burned my throat.

  “What were you planning to do?” I screamed at him.

  Lloyd smiled at the panic in my face. “What’s it smell like? I was going to teach you and your uncle a lesson by burning down your little dream house.”

  The gun. Lloyd had been holding a gun before I hit him. I ran out into the rain and searched the ground near the trailer’s steps. Moonlight glinted off the metal of the gun, making it easy to spot. I grabbed it and ran back to Lloyd.

  “You won’t shoot me,” he said weakly.

  “Shut up!” I pointed the gun at his face. My shaking hands struggled to maintain a tight hold.

  “What are you afraid of, little girl? Pull the trigger.”

  Lloyd twisted his body until he had worked himself into a sitting position.

  “No one would blame me for killing you,” I stammered. “I’d tell the police I was protecting myself.”

  “Self-defense, huh? Hitting me in the nuts, cracking open my head, tying my hands, then shooting me. Yeah, that would qualify as self-defense.”

  “Shut up!”

  I shivered in my wet clothes. Don’t let him get to you. Stay in control. You’re in control.

  My phone vibrated in my back pocket, which sent another surge of adrenaline through my already shaken body. I put the gun under one arm and retrieved the phone. Its screen cast blue light around me.

  Where are you? Call us NOW!

  Don’t be stupid. Call me or the police.

  The messages were sent from Mrs. Mooney’s phone, but Mo was texting. The phone buzzed again. This time, she tried calling. I returned the phone to my back pocket.

  I strained to stay focused. My original plan was to trap Lloyd, to have the police close by to arrest him. Yet I’d asked Lloyd to meet me here alone. Had I really only wanted a confession, or had I planned something else all along? I sucked in air, hoping it’d ease the burning in my lungs. The fumes in the house sickened me and fueled a surreal new panic.

  “Why’d you have to track me down?” The futility of the conversation began to sink in. With one hand, I reached for the phone. Mo had been right all along. I needed to call the police now.

  “I needed money,” he said. “You can still get me some and I’ll walk away.”

  Images of my mother’s body, lifeless and small, flashed before me. Every emotion I felt that day returned with the same intensity. I’d never see her again. Ever.

  “You didn’t have to kill her. You didn’t have to.” I lowered the gun but kept my finger on the trigger.

  “I didn’t kill your fucking mother.” Lloyd appeared to be regaining his strength. He now sat more upright, even though the blood still seeped down his neck and shirt.

  “Dora said you were at the motel that day. She said you were angry at Mom.” I cried freely now, not caring what my stepfather thought.

  “She was alive when I left her,” he said. “I can’t be responsible if she OD’d on the crank I gave her as a parting gift. Too bad the bitch never had no self-control.”

  The roar in my ears unhinged me and I dropped to the floor. Had I pulled the trigger? I tried to focus, but the floor seemed to heave from side to side like a ship at sea. The gun slipped from my hand. Lloyd’s animal-like screams were unlike anything I’d ever heard.

  “You shot me, you bitch!” Lloyd slumped to his side but writhed with newfound energy. He’d worked his hands free from the cord and was groping for my legs. I kicked at him wildly and lost my balance, falling into the floodlight.

  The casing around the bulbs shattered. The heat was enough to ignite the gasoline-soaked wood. A whoosh of hot air flew up around me. The flames whispered for me to run, so I did.

  The rain was so cold … too cold. My fingers dug into the wet ground. The sticky mud clung to my skin. I rubbed the cool mud over my face, making it feel smooth. Was it my face? Lloyd’s screams pierced through the fogginess in my brain. Why was he screaming like that? I pawed at my bloodstained shirt. Lloyd’s blood.

  A siren. Flashing lights. Car doors slamming. Mo screaming.

  “Oh my God, Arlie. What have you done?” Mo’s distant voice pulled me back to reality.

  The rain pelted me harder now. An orange glow spilled from the windows of the house.

  Not this way, Arlie. Not with fire.

  As Mo and the police officers ran toward me, I covered my face with my forearm and ran back into the house.

  The flames were confined to the sides of the room where Lloyd had poured the gas. He was pulling himself along the floor, his screams no more than hoarse pleas now because of the smoke.

  When he saw me, he reached out with both arms.

  “Don’t let me burn. Just don’t let me burn.” His frantic pleas made it harder for me to concentrate.

  I lifted him to his feet and dragged him by the elbow. He shuffled as best he could, holding the leg I’d shot. The heat engulfed us, threatened to melt us. There was no way in hell I’d let us be permanently joined in this inferno. I pulled with the remaining strength I had. Together, we fell through the doorway and onto the wet ground. He landed on top of me. I pushed against him, but he was too heavy. On his own, he rolled to his side.

  I coughed, straining to find air. Strong arms lifted me. I was weightless, flying. The rain and night sky blurred. My mouth and nose burned with a familiar taste and smell. I was on the wet ground again. Hands patting me, rolling me. More sirens. More shouting.

  “Is she breathing?” Mo’s screams were too loud.

  Hadn’t I asked her to be quiet? Just for a minute, Mo. Just let me rest a moment.

  CHAPTER 32

  My head ached. For that matter, every muscle in my body ached. I pulled at the tubes in my nose, but Mo touched my hand to make me stop.

  “You need the oxygen,” she said. “Do what you’re told for once, okay?”

  “Water.” The excruciating pain in my throat made me regret uttering a word.

  Mo held a straw to my mouth. The cold water eased the burning. I closed my eyes in gratitude. Then the images assaulted me. Lloyd. Blood. Fire.

  Tears flowed freely. “Mirror,” I croaked.

  “No. Not now,” Mo said. “Just rest.”

  “Mirror!” I didn’t care about my throat. I didn’t care that my body begged me to lie still. I needed to know.

  “Shhhh. You wer
en’t burned, Arlie. You weren’t burned.”

  My body shook uncontrollably. Mo climbed into the hospital bed beside me. She held me tentatively, conscious of my bruises. She burrowed her face into my neck. I couldn’t tell who cried harder. Then sleep claimed me again.

  The scent was unfamiliar. Very sweet. Almost overpowering.

  “They’re lilies,” Mo said. “Mom wanted you to have something fragrant.”

  Mrs. Mooney never ceased to amaze me. She’d chosen a bouquet based solely on my newfound sense of smell. “Tell her thank you.”

  “You can tell her yourself. Mom and Dad will be here a little later to see you. They came by earlier, but you were sleeping.”

  “How long?”

  “About seven hours. You needed it.”

  I brought my fingers to my nose. No more oxygen tube. I rubbed my cheeks—one smooth, one pocked with my old scar.

  “The firefighters said you didn’t get burned because you were soaked in rain and mud. They said you were very lucky.”

  “And Lloyd?”

  “Airlifted to Denver. Smoke did a number on his lungs. Plus, you cracked his head open and shot him in the leg. He lost a lot of blood.”

  “But he lived?”

  Mo nodded.

  The sky outside had turned a purplish gray. Dusk. At this time yesterday, I was in Mo’s bathroom with Cody. The last moment everything seemed right.

  “How’s Frank?” I asked. “I want to see him.” I kicked feebly at the sheet and blanket, but then collapsed back against the bed.

  “That can wait. Frank’s stable. The swelling has gone down considerably, but he’s pretty out of it. Sleeping mostly.”

  “I have to explain everything,” I said.

  “It can wait.” Mo smoothed the hospital blanket and tucked it around my body.

  “I was wrong. All of it was wrong,” I said. “You’ve given me every reason to trust you and I still didn’t let you in. I don’t expect you to forgive me.”

  “We’re broken, Arlie. I’m so hurt that I can hardly stand it, but it’s selfish to think about that now.”

  Mo was the least selfish person I knew. She should be able to ask for anything she needed now or anytime. I’d foolishly thought I was protecting others by not asking for help. That was the height of selfishness and stupidity.

  “Did Cody come by?” He and I were likely broken too.

  “Cody was here almost the whole time you were sleeping. He’ll be back. I’m sure of it.”

  Mo frowned before catching herself.

  “What? What is it?” I asked.

  “I don’t want to scare you, but the police are waiting to question you. Mom said you don’t have to answer anything until Frank can be present.”

  Police. I’d risked everything to confront my stepfather. It wasn’t worth the price I was sure to pay. Thank God, Lloyd had lived.

  James peeked his head around the door after a quick knock. Cody gripped James’s elbow and followed him to the side of my bed.

  “Thanks for coming.” My voice, though hoarse, was getting stronger. And with the analgesic spray for my throat, I no longer felt like I’d swallowed razor blades.

  “I see you got a new hairdo,” James said.

  “What new hairdo?” Cody asked.

  “The fire singed a good bit of my hair on one side. I have a lopsided punk look going on,” I said.

  Cody leaned down to kiss me so I guided him toward my lips.

  “You’d be beautiful bald,” he whispered.

  I couldn’t believe he was actually here, that he was speaking to me. “That may be an option. If the stylist can’t work with this mess.”

  James coughed, so Cody pulled away. Although I wished he hadn’t.

  “I appreciate you bringing Cody to the hospital,” I said. “Mo said you’ve both spent a good deal of time here.”

  “Just promise me you’re done being so stupid,” James said. “Things could have ended badly. Much worse than a sore throat and crap hairstyle.”

  “I was stupid. So stupid,” I said. “And I know you were worried about Cody … and what he’d gotten mixed up in.”

  “Cody’s told me he doesn’t want me worrying about him and that he can make his own decisions.”

  “Well, I can,” Cody added.

  “So … I’ll leave you two alone,” James said. He headed to the hospital cafeteria to get ice cream for the three of us. My throat could almost feel the soothing coolness.

  “Lie beside me.” I patted the bed and then grabbed Cody’s hand.

  “Is that allowed?”

  “Who cares.”

  Cody set his cane against the chair, kicked off his sneakers, and climbed onto the bed. He smelled like mint and something earthy, like grass or bark or pine needles. I nuzzled against him and breathed in. Such a nice change from the antiseptic smell of a hospital room mixed with lilies.

  “I want to be angry with you, but I can’t,” he said.

  “Everyone else is, and I don’t blame any of you. And when Frank wakes up … I don’t even want to think about how disappointed and angry he’ll be. He may want to rethink being my guardian.”

  “He’ll be grateful and relieved. Just like the rest of us,” Cody said. “Even Brittany stopped by to see how you were.”

  “She probably came to dig up dirt,” I said.

  “Not at all,” he said. “Claire was here in the waiting room. She warned Brit not to start any shit. Brittany said she was sorry to hear what happened and to tell you to get better soon. She left some magazines.”

  Her change of heart made me suspicious, but I was too tired to figure it out. “That’s so freaking hard to believe.”

  “Well, believe it,” he said. “And it gave me the chance to tell her she needed to accept that you and I are together. That we’re for real.”

  His heartbeat was so steady. I closed my eyes and listened to its strength. I pulled myself around him even tighter.

  “Hey. It’s okay, Arlie. It’s all going to work out.”

  I hoped he was right. Upon my release from the hospital, the police were going to arrest me. After that, I didn’t know how things would play out.

  “I won’t be able to sing in the community concert,” I said. “My throat won’t heal fully by then.”

  “Small price to pay for not dying,” he said.

  Dying. I’d never allowed myself to believe that. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to confront Lloyd. But what if I hadn’t seen him enter the trailer? Or if it hadn’t been pouring rain? I shuddered now at how easily things could have gone horribly wrong. Lloyd and I were both very lucky to be alive.

  I touched Cody’s lips and then ran my hand along his jaw-line, pulling him toward me. I kissed him and kissed him until he responded. The world disappeared just as I had intended. I pushed his collar with my chin and kissed his neck and shoulder. His skin was warm against my face.

  “Hey,” he whispered. “You sure pick inappropriate places to try to undress me.”

  “I’m not trying to undress you,” I said. “Well … maybe a little.”

  “At least Mo’s bathroom door had a lock.”

  “Please don’t remind me of how stupid I can be. I love you and I want you, but I agree we should wait.”

  I’d said it. Out loud. I buried my face in his shirt and groaned.

  “What is it?”

  “Nothing,” I said.

  “Oh, I thought I heard you say you loved me.” He beamed with the joy of a kid on Christmas morning.

  “So you heard that, huh?” I longed for a bucket of ice water to douse my flaming cheeks.

  “Hell yes, I heard it.” He kissed the top of my head and hugged me tighter.

  I waited for him to say more. The silence was excruciating. “Well?”

  “Well, what?” he asked, still grinning like a goof.

  “Nothing.” I gave him a halfhearted punch to the ribs.

  “I’m messing with you. I love you too. And have for a lon
g time.”

  A nurse knocked and then entered without waiting for me to respond. Cody scrambled to get out of bed and almost fell. She winked.

  “I thought you’d like to know your uncle is awake and talking. A lot, in fact,” she said. “Can I help you to his room?”

  “Go,” Cody said. “I’ll wait for James.”

  My heart hammered with both excitement and dread as the nurse helped me into a robe and slippers.

  Frank’s hospital bed was in the upright position so he could sit up.

  “Nice turban,” I said.

  “Nice hair,” he said.

  When I walked closer, he held out his arms. I fell into his embrace and didn’t want to be anywhere else. His body shook and the emotion reverberated through us both.

  “Thank God, you’re all right,” he said.

  I didn’t know how much he’d been told. Enough to know I was also in the hospital. Enough to know I’d been in a fire but survived intact. Still, Cody had been right. Frank wasn’t angry.

  “Enough of this.” He loosened his grip so I backed away. He pulled the sheet up to wipe his tear-stained face. “What a crybaby.”

  “I think it’s nice, Frank.”

  I sat down in the chair next to the bed and held his hand, careful not to touch his bruised knuckles. He looked like the same old Frank except for the gauze dressing on his head wound. Even his color had returned.

  “I was so worried about you,” I said.

  “Now you know how I feel.”

  “Point taken.”

  “I’ve gotten bits and pieces of the story from the nurses, and a little from the police. Now I’d like you to tell me what happened,” he said.

  I took a deep breath and told him everything. That I’d been contacted by Lloyd. That I’d purposefully kept it from him and the police. That I’d sneaked out of Mo’s to meet Lloyd, not knowing what I was even going to do. I told Frank I’d lied to Lloyd about being able to get him the money he wanted. As I spoke, it became apparent how insane my thinking and actions had been. At the time, though, I’d been operating on autopilot. Each step led to another and another until I found myself doing horrific things. Things I didn’t know I was capable of doing.