BOOM GOES THE DYNAMITE
THEN
The explosion tore through the entire town of Butte with the fury of God’s fist. A thunderous sound that seemed to ripple through every corner of the earth, shaking it to its very core.
I felt it first in the soles of my feet, a deep, reverberating hum that rattled through the wooden floorboards beneath me.
The picture frame hanging on the wall above the chest in the living room trembled, its thin edges quivering.
I watched the glass shudder, my eyes fixated on the family portrait inside, the one showing us on a summer trip to the lake, our smiles captured forever in that moment of innocence, before the world turned cruel.
Then the house shook violently as the walls groaned.
Plates burst from the cabinets, smashing against each other in a cascade of shattered porcelain, and a scream caught in my throat.
I dropped to the floor instinctively, my body going low as I dove under the coffee table, arms wrapping around my head in a futile attempt to protect myself from the chaos.
Dust rained from the ceiling, the air thickening around me in a murky haze.
Everything was sound and no sound—furniture crashing, glass exploding, the low roar of fire, the high shriek of metal splitting.
My heartbeat drowned out everything else.
My breath was ragged, my heart pounded, and my hands trembled uncontrollably.
And then, silence.
It pressed down harder than the blast did.
The absence of noise was suffocating, like the world had gone still just to listen to what had been lost. Smoke curled through the room.
The smell of sulfur stung my throat, a sharp, acrid, scent that made my stomach churn.
The dust had settled in the wake of the blast, and it now clung to the furniture, to the floors, to my skin.
I couldn’t focus on anything but the feeling of terror seeping into my chest.
It took a few moments before I could gather the courage to move, to peek out from under the coffee table where I had taken cover.
My hands were shaking violently as I pressed against the floor, the wood beneath my palms slick with dust. Slowly, I crawled out from my makeshift shelter, my breath still shallow, my body tense, unwilling to let my guard down.
I continued toward the front door, my feet scraping against the floor as I moved.
I didn’t dare to stand yet, something in my gut told me to stay low, but the scream that rang out from the street sent a jolt of fear through me.
It was high-pitched and full of raw terror.
A sound so full of horror it could have stripped the marrow from my bones. I couldn’t ignore it.
My pulse quickened and I sprang to my feet in one fluid motion, my breath coming in short, frantic gasps as I shoved open the door.
The town was filled with smoke, turning the morning into a gray hell.
Fires crackled in the distance and I could hear shouting somewhere beyond the mine.
It all felt like a nightmare, but one I couldn’t wake up from.
I didn’t think, I just ran.
My feet pounded the dirt road with urgency, each step harder than the last, pushing me closer to the mountain.
The panic was rising in me, tightening around my ribs.
John, Ray. Their names rang through my skull, thrumming in my chest. I said them with every breath, every step—as if by calling them could somehow summon them back to me.
The ground tore at my feet, sharp rocks digging in with every step, but I didn’t slow down. I didn’t care about the pain in my lungs or the burning in my legs. Nothing mattered except getting to them.
I stumbled once, tripping over a large stone in the road, but my momentum carried me forward, and I found my balance again, pushing myself harder.
My dress fluttered around my legs, and I barely noticed the dirt smeared across my skin or the way my breath hitched in my chest. All that mattered was for me to get to them.
I reached the mine. Smoke rolled from its mouth like breath from a dying beast. Men stood in front of it, their faces were pale and their expressions grim as they banded together.
They formed a wall across the entrance, a wall of grief, and when they saw me coming, they moved to block my way.
Their eyes were wide with panic, their hands trembling, and for a moment, I saw the fear in their faces, the same fear that gripped my heart.
I wasn’t stopping, though. I couldn’t.
I tried to shove past the first group of men, my body crashing into theirs with all the force I could muster.
They stumbled back, but they didn’t give way.
I pushed harder, my hands outstretched as I fought my way toward the second group.
“John! Ray!” I screamed, my voice hoarse and raw, but it wasn’t enough.
The men were all around me now, their hands gripping my arms, holding me back, their voices muffled by the pounding of blood in my ears.
“Please!” I begged, but they didn’t let me go.
I kicked and clawed, my feet finding purchase on the dirt road as I tried to break free.
I felt the heat of tears behind my eyes, the sting of salt as they slid down my cheeks.
“Please! I have to get to them! Let me through!” My voice was breaking now, cracking under the grip of terror that was choking me.
The men held me tight, their grasp unyielding.
“John! Ray!” My screams fractured the air as my body shook and my legs gave out beneath me before I collapsed to the ground.
The earth rose up to meet me, hard and unfeeling, as I choked on dust. On despair.
My fingers dug into the dirt, but there was nothing to hold onto.
Nothing to bring them back. The world around me fell into a muted, distant blur, and I was left with only the crushing weight of my loss.
I was a mother trying to outrun her fate. I had lost everything.
Ray’s tiny hands would never wrap around mine again.
I would never get to hear him say “Love you most,” with that quiet confidence like he was daring the universe to argue after I told him that I loved him more.
I’d never get to see who he might have become or if he would have looked just like his father when he got to be his age.
And John . . . I would never again find shelter in his arms, never again feel the hush of the world when he looked at me like I was the only light left in it.
There would be no growing old together, no silver-haired mornings or quiet, wrinkled hands brushing mine.
The man I ached for with every breath, the father of my child, the fire in my blood, was now gone.
The sting of the truth slammed into me all at once, engulfing, unrelenting.
The mountain had taken them both. The earth had swallowed them whole.
And there was nothing I could do. The men around me had fallen silent now.
Some bowed their heads, others turned away, unable to bear witness to the unraveling of a mother’s heart.
A gentle hand touched my shoulder, but I didn’t look to see who it belonged to, it didn’t matter.
No human hand could reach me now, not where I’d gone.
I was underwater. Drowning in grief. Suspended in this new reality where nothing would ever be the same again.
I stared at the entrance to the mine, at the black hole that had swallowed everyone I loved.
A gaping mouth in the earth, as if hell itself had opened wide and taken them.
I used to believe the mountain was alive—majestic, eternal, almost holy.
Now, it was a grave. And I hated it for that.
My fists clenched against the dirt, and I let my head drop until my forehead touched the ground.
A silent offering to whatever gods were listening, or maybe just surrender.
I whispered their names again, this time in reverence.
Like a prayer. A lullaby I hoped might carry through the rubble and reach them somehow. A final goodbye.
Ray.
John.
I don’t know how long I stayed there. Minutes? Hours? The world had lost all sense of time. The sky was darkening, and somewhere in the distance, the church bell began to ring. One for each soul they knew was lost.
One toll. Two. Three.
And then more.
And more.
Until the sound of the bell cracked something inside me I didn’t know could still break.
And even though I thought the universe could take no more from me, she would rear her ugly head and prove just how wrong I was.