Chapter 22
TWENTY-TWO
AMY
Things had been smooth as cream for a day.
My mom had busied herself cleaning every drawer and closet in the house, and she’d gone through her entire catalog of show tunes.
But, by evening, right as I was getting ready for work, the humming, closet cleaner was starting to see small green bugs on the kitchen wall.
I’d had no choice but to go to work. A cancelled shift was too much of a money loss.
I made her a grilled cheese and then tucked her into her bed to watch television.
She was dozing soundly by the time I picked up my keys to leave.
Thankfully, she was still fast asleep when I got home. I plopped down in my dad’s chair and turned on the television. My phone buzzed. It was Hunter.
“Hey, I’m here with the Bozo twins playing video games and eating pizza. I heard your buzzing little car pull in. Why don’t you come over?”
In his head, he’d squared away everything between us by ignoring all the stuff I’d brought up.
As far as he was concerned, everything should just stay as it was.
Hunter was good at ignoring anything that might take too much time or emotion or thinking.
Because he’d lost his motorcycle, I’d dropped the subject for now.
My own selfish need to be part of his life in some way had helped me to drop it.
But deep down, the constant ache was still there, chipping away at my heart and soul.
“I need to hang out here. My mom sort of decided to just drop her meds cold turkey, and I’m waiting for all the damn shoes to drop. I’m kind of tired anyhow. But save me some cold pizza for tomorrow.”
“Yeah, right. Slade’s here, so I’m pretty sure there won’t be anything but a few crusts left.” He paused. “Hey, Street, if you need me just call. I’m only about thirty steps away.”
I couldn’t figure out exactly why his last words impacted me so much, but my throat clamped up and I could barely say the word bye.
I hung up and glanced out the window toward their house.
The light from their television flickered through the thin curtains on their front window.
I leaned back in the easy chair and rested my head.
It had always been a comfort having the Stone brothers so close.
I never felt alone or unsafe with them just a few yards away.
Light footsteps padded down the hallway and my mom emerged. She once again had the flamingo beach towel wrapped around her bathrobe. Her face was down, and she was muttering about something. They were back. Her inner demons, the voices that plagued her night and day, were back.
“Mom, do you want me to make you something to eat?”
She ignored me and continued on her mission, whatever the hell that mission was. She went into the kitchen for a few minutes and cradled something in her hands as she walked back through.
I was bone tired and didn’t even lift my head from the chair as she shuffled back through.
Then, unexpectedly, she stopped just before disappearing back down the hallway.
She turned to me, and the rational, clearheaded expression from this morning flashed across her face.
“Whatever you do, sweetheart, my beautiful Amy, chase happiness no matter how long it takes.” Then her shoulders rolled forward.
She shut the towel tighter around herself and whatever snack she’d grabbed from the kitchen, and she plodded back to her room.
I watched the empty doorway wondering if in my groggy state, I’d just imagined those last few seconds.
I rested my head back. My lids felt heavy from the long day. I let sleep take me away from reality.
It was a crackling sound that woke me. As I urged my mind out of the dream I’d been having, I tried to reconcile the sound with anything I’d ever heard before.
But I couldn’t. A loud snapping sound made me jolt forward.
The haze in the room was not in my head.
It was smoke. Not a burnt toast or singed popcorn smoke.
It was a horrible, acrid smoke as if chemicals and fabrics and things were being consumed by fire.
I jumped up. The darkness in the hallway had been replaced by a thick gray mist. I raced to my mom’s door and grabbed the doorknob.
It was hot but I wrapped my fingers around it and turned it.
The door didn’t budge. I’d removed the lock long ago, but something was blocking it and keeping it from opening.
“Mom!” I pounded on the door. “Mom, let me in!” I jammed my shoulder against it and pushed with all my weight.
Whatever was on the other side weighed more than me.
It was as if she had moved all her furniture in front of the door.
Smoke curled up from beneath the door like vicious gray fingers, teasing me, letting me know that I had no chance to get in.
I stepped back and ran toward the door. I rammed the door and sharp pain tore through my shoulder. I kicked the door again. “Mom, go out the window!” I screamed.
A sound behind me made me spin around. It was the drapes in the front room.
The flames had crawled up and over the roof.
Fire was taking the whole house. Heat and smoke filled the narrow hallway.
As I ran for the front door, Dad’s old easy chair, the place I had just been sleeping, burst into flames.
Fire quickly traveled from the front window drapes to the faded green curtains on the front door.
I raced to the kitchen. The window hadn’t been opened in years, and it was glued shut like cement. Panic and shock made me freeze. I had no idea which way to go. The flames were winning, and I couldn’t seem to outpace them.
I was struggling to breathe, and my eyes watered from the smoke.
I stooped down. I needed to get to my bedroom and out to the yard so I could get to my mom’s window.
The smoke and heat in the hallway were so bad I had to feel my way along the walls.
Paint was blistering off the plaster. I couldn’t catch a decent breath.
I yanked my shirt up over my mouth and nose, but it did little to filter the air.
It felt as if all the oxygen in the house had been replaced by bitter, pungent chemical smells.
Dizziness overwhelmed me, and I dropped to my knees to crawl. The pain in my shoulder made my right arm weak, and I had to pull myself along with my left. But I could no longer see where I was going. I smacked my head hard on the edge of the bathroom door.
“Mom,” I cried weakly. Tears flowed from my eyes. I was suffocating. I curled into a ball and waited for the flames to take me.