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If Darkness Takes Us Page 18
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I took a breath, trying to stay calm. “Do you know that Chas is the ringleader of the stealing kids?”
I didn’t have to tell her how I knew. She screamed, “Darla, you bitch!” and turned to rush away, but I grabbed Tasha’s arm and spun her around to face me.
“Stop it! This is not about anyone but you, and keeping you safe. You’re only fifteen. You’re too young to be in love with any young man, especially one who gets little kids to steal. He’s not an honest boy. Don’t you know that?”
“What’s wrong with taking stuff that nobody’s using? It’s stuff people need.”
“Like what kind of stuff?”
“I don’t know. Food mostly. Blankets.”
“Jewelry? Alcohol? Does he steal alcohol?”
“I don’t know. Maybe,” she said.
“Maybe,” I muttered. “Does Chas let those little kids drink?”
“I don’t know, Nana. God!” I did not believe her.
“Those kids are tearing up houses. They’re breaking windows and ripping down siding. That is a huge waste, especially now. They might be starting fires inside those houses, and that is crazy dangerous.”
“But those kids do that. Not Chas.”
“How do you know?”
“He told me.”
“And you believe him?” I shook my head at her.
This girl—just like her mother Erin, always with the boyfriends she had to bail out of jail, who didn’t help pay rent. And Tasha’s father, Jimmy, hadn’t been a good role model either.
“Tasha, are you and Chas having sex?”
“What? No!” She glanced into my eyes for a second, then looked past me. Not exactly reassuring.
I aimed my gaze straight into hers. “Are you telling me the truth?”
“Yes, Nana. Yes!” she said, incredulous.
Tasha stared at me, tears washing down her cheeks, snot dripping from her nose. I took a handkerchief from my pocket and reached to wipe her face, but she jerked back. So I passed her the hankie and watched while she wiped her eyes and blew her nose.
“Tasha, I know how it is to fall in love. And I know those bad boys can seem so cute and exciting. They’re hard to resist. I had a couple of bad boyfriends in my day.”
“Not you, Nana. You’re so—”
“So old? So uncool? When I was a kid, we called it ‘square.’ We thought our parents and grandparents were squares and didn’t know anything. I know it’s hard for you to believe I was ever a cool person. But Chas isn’t cool. He’s a thief, and I need you to stop seeing him unless and until he starts behaving himself.”
“Nana!” she squealed and threw herself face-down on the couch.
I patted Tasha on her back until her weeping slowed down, then I kept patting her because I somehow couldn’t stop.
“I want my mom,” Tasha said.
“I know. But she would keep you from seeing Chas, too.”
“No, she wouldn’t.” Tasha might have been right about that.
A short while later, a screaming fight erupted in the backyard. By the time I got there, Keno had ahold of Darla, Milo had ahold of Tasha, and Mazie was whirling in circles, screeching, “Stop!”
“What the hell’s going on?” I shouted on my way out the door.
“Slimy bitch, leave my brother alone!” Tasha yelled at Darla, straining to get away from Milo and almost succeeding.
Keno tucked Darla behind him. “Tasha, I like Darla, and it’s none of your business.”
“I don’t want you kissing that slut.”
“Who’s the slut?” Darla said under her breath.
“What did you say, you whore?” Tasha shrieked.
“I’m not a whore. You are!” Darla shoved Keno aside, tears bursting from her eyes as she lunged for Tasha, grabbing a fistful of Tasha’s hair. But when Keno yanked Darla back to him, Tasha’s hair came with. Then both girls were kicking boys out of their way, slapping and slugging.
“Stop it! Both of you, stop it!” No one listened to me, and blood flew out of Darla’s nose. I needed to startle them. I picked up a shovel, hollering, “I said stop it!” and I slammed the shovel blade against the brick of the house.
The shovel handle busted to pieces, sparks flew from the blade, and all the shovel pieces except a short stick in my grasp flew through the air. Stick parts rebounded off the girls. The blade bounced off Keno’s forehead, leaving a thin line of blood.
“Damn, Nana!” he cried, reaching for his forehead then examining his wet, red hand.
The fighting instantly stopped as I raced to Keno. A fringed curtain of blood streamed down his forehead toward his eyes, which he shielded with his hand.
“Keno. I’m so sorry. I didn’t think the shovel would break. Mazie, get me a jug of water and some washcloths.”
Mazie stood there in shock, shaking all over.
“Go, Mazie! Now!”
She went.
“Keno, lie down on your back.” He lay down, and I plopped down next to him, dabbing up blood with the hem of my shirt. “Tasha, go to your room! Now!”
“You always pick on me!”
“Stop acting like a child. You think you’re so grown up, then do what I say. Go!”
“Darla started it!” Tasha hollered as she slammed her way into and through the house.
“Darla, go sit on that bench by the side garden. Now!”
“I wanna go with her,” Keno said.
“No. You have to lie down. And Darla,” I raised my voice so she’d hear me as she sped away, “I can’t have you girls fighting. Understand?”
“Yes, ma’am.” She was swiftly out of my sight, sobbing loudly as she went.
I sent Milo to Darla with a wet washcloth for her bloody nose. It needed ice, but what could I do?
I doctored Keno as best I could. In our previous world, he would’ve had stitches on that forehead. And head wounds bleed like crazy, so it took a while for the bleeding to stop.
To get him bandaged up, I had Keno come inside to the dining table. Every so often, he asked if he could go to Darla, but I kept saying no. I told him I was waiting for everyone to calm down, but if I’m honest about it, I was waiting to calm down myself. When I couldn’t stop my hands from shaking and my breaths from coming too shallow, I let Keno go, and I went to take some meds.
But Keno was back in half a minute, carrying Darla’s blood-spattered washcloth.
“She’s gone! Where did she go?”
“I don’t know. Maybe she went for a walk to cool off.”
“What if she ran away?” He held back a sob.
“Give her a few minutes and see if she comes back.” I’d had my fill of teenage girls and was in no hurry to see one.
“But if she ran away, she could’ve gone pretty far already. I need to find her.”
“Honey, come here.” I took his hand and looked into his deep green eyes below his forehead bandage. “You really think Darla would run away? How would she survive?”
“Nana, please!”
I had never seen Keno so distressed.
“Okay. Go. But take your bike and come back in one hour if you don’t find her. She might come back a different way from the route you take.”
“Thank you,” he said and squeezed my shoulders. Then he was in the garage, on his bike, and down the road.
He’d been gone about twenty minutes when we heard the explosion.
TWENTY-EIGHT
“OH, NO!” I yelled and rushed out the front door, almost falling over Mazie and Milo. Tasha hightailed it down the stairs behind us.
Down the block, a fireball and huge plumes of black smoke shot into the air above a house. I ran into the road to see that it was the Belding house. Oh, my Christ!
“Keno!” I wailed.
My family and I and several others ran toward the burning house as thick smoke filled the air along the street.
“Keno!” I screamed again. Jack caught up to us just as I stumbled. He grabbed me as I collapsed in gasps, and he guided
me down to sit on the pavement.
“Keno! He might be in there!” My heart beat like a kick drum, stealing all my breath.
“Keno!” Mazie screeched. “Where are you?”
Tasha put one hand to her mouth, the other to her stomach, squealing out a sob.
The fire made several loud pops. Streaming flames shot toward us on the street.
“Keno!” Mazie yelled. Tasha scooped the girl up and away from the fire.
“Get back everyone!” Jack shouted. “More stuff could blow!”
“Keno!” I cried with what felt like my last breath.
“Nana!” A charred-looking boy rushed toward me through the smoke. Keno! “Darla’s in there! Someone, help me get her out!” Keno whirled in a circle, flapping his arms. He lunged back toward the burning house.
Jack and Silas caught hold of Keno, but he was screeching and jerking himself around so much that he almost got away. Gary and Tasha also latched on to the boy, and together they pulled him back from the fire and down to the pavement. Keno continued to cry and moan.
“She’s in there! Nana, make them help me get her out!”
If Darla was in that fiery house, there was no earthly way to save her, God rest her soul.
“Keno, your arm is burned,” Tasha said, and I pulled myself up from the street.
“Bring him home, y’all!” I shouted. “Please bring him home so I can take care of him.”
“No! I won’t go! We have to get Darla out of there!” The boy fell forward over his extended legs. “Darla! Why?”
Men from the neighborhood stood clustered around Keno. Jack reached down and patted his shoulder, but Keno didn’t seem to notice. My boy was not going anywhere. I would have to doctor him here.
“Tasha, go get the first-aid kit, some scissors, and in my bathroom linen closet there’s ointment in a blue jar called Silvadene. Mazie, you get towels, washcloths, and a pillowcase. Milo, get my rolling office chair and bring it to me so I can sit down before I fall down. And get a gallon of water.”
The kids ran toward home. The fire in the burning house was dying down enough for us to see that the garage was what had exploded. It had taken the front half of the house and part of the kitchen along with it.
Blackened garage rafters burned themselves out atop a charred and gutted minivan. All the window glass from the van was gone. The van was full of busted metal drums, leaking fluid that quickly turned to smoke. One van door had been driven halfway through the collapsing garage wall.
Good God, did Darla blow herself up in the van? I looked closer and saw what could have been a blackened hand.
I stationed myself behind Keno and gently turned him away from the fire to look at me. The hair on the left side of his head was singed. He had black scorch marks on his clothes. He’d lost the bandage off his forehead, and his cut there had bled, leaving crusted blood down one side of his face.
“Honey, I love you. I am so sorry this happened. So very sorry.” I reached to hug him while we trembled and shook. “Are you burned anywhere else?”
“No,” he said flatly, huffing for breath.
Milo arrived and rolled my chair up behind me, forcing me to sit down so fast that I almost tipped over backwards. Luckily, other people steadied me because Milo was already gone, running home for water.
“Bring liquid soap and a wash bowl, too, Milo!”
“Why did this happen?” Keno cried. His stark expression sent shivers through me.
“Honey, I don’t know.”
Soon, Mazie and Tasha arrived, with Milo running along behind, pulling a wagon full of supplies.
I had Tasha help wash and bandage Keno’s arm. Neighbors started speculating about how Darla might have caused the explosion. I asked Jack to have them move away until I could get Keno cared for and take him home.
But Jack whispered in my ear, “He’s the only one who knows what happened. We have to talk to him about it.”
“Why? What purpose would it serve other than to satisfy some kind of morbid curiosity?”
“If you’re talking about what I think you’re talking about,” Keno said despairingly, “I’ll tell them. People have a right to know.”
“Do they?” I said. “Really?”
“I’d like to know,” Tasha said, and she started crying and shaking as much as Keno.
I pulled Tasha to me. Of course, she wanted to know. She probably felt partly responsible, after the fight and all. There was too much to protect these kids from in this world. Far, far too much.
“Keno can tell the story after I get him bandaged up,” I said.
Keno’s burn wasn’t too horrible—about six inches long, on the inner side of his left forearm. Thankfully, he was right-handed. The burn went through a couple of layers of skin in a few spots. Good thing I had the Silvadene. I probably wasn’t supposed to bandage the burn, but I couldn’t see how Keno would keep from rubbing it against his body without a bandage. So, I wrapped the burn loosely with gauze, and I cut up the pillowcase to make a sling.
“Doesn’t it hurt?” Tasha asked.
“No,” Keno said, and I wondered why. Were his nerves damaged? Was Keno in shock? How could I tell?
“Doesn’t anyone have medical training around here?” I asked, though I knew that no one did. I would have to keep my eyes on Keno.
Most of our neighbors went home and returned wearing jackets, as a north wind was blowing in. Fortunately, the house fire was pretty much dead by now, though there was a chance it could flare back up. The smoke blew away with the cold wind, but an acrid chemical stench permeated the air.
“Should I start telling it or what?” Keno asked me.
“Let me gather them up. Come on, everyone. It’s cold out here. Let him tell the story so we can go home.”
The neighbors from our co-op group gathered around, as did three men who looked like extra-grimy bikers—two wearing leather and chains, one with a huge skull earring. Maybe they’d come from another neighborhood to investigate the explosion? Or maybe they were related to someone in our group?
Chas paced behind the crowd, trying to catch Tasha’s eye. She seemed to be purposely ignoring him. The man with the skull earring nodded to Chas, and the kid nodded back but quickly looked away. Something was up here, something not good.
Keno stood up, and several people sat down on the pavement or the curb. I stayed where I was, hoping Keno would look toward me and not at the garage and what had to be Darla’s burned-up, disembodied arm.
“She ran away from our house because she was upset,” Keno began.
“About what?” Silas asked.
“That’s not important,” I said. “She had a disagreement, and it upset her. She was a very sad girl. We don’t need details.”
Silas looked annoyed, but he stayed quiet. Keno took a breath and went on.
“I’m not sure how long she was gone before we noticed. Maybe half an hour? I got on my bike and went looking for her. First place I came was her house. She didn’t have anywhere else to go. I thought she’d be afraid to leave the neighborhood.”
Keno kept stopping every few words to catch his breath. That burn was clearly affecting him. I couldn’t quit shaking with worry.
“I knocked on her door. No one answered. Then I saw her through the curtain. She was—oh God!” Keno bent forward, crying. I started to get up to take him home, but Jack held my shoulder. Tasha ran up to hug Keno, then she stood with him, holding his hand.
“Darla,” he said, “she had a glass pipe. I begged her to let me in. But she wouldn’t. She was acting funny. Kind of crazy. Laughing a lot but not in a happy way. I guess she was stoned. I don’t know what on.”
“Meth,” said Tasha.
Keno spun toward his sister. “How do you know?”
“I heard her parents sold meth.”
“Seriously?” I said. “You could have told me that.”
“Sorry, Nana. I didn’t think to tell you.” Surely Tasha didn’t think I’d believe that.
/> “You could have told me!” Keno said.
“I’m sorry!” Tasha cried.
My heart beat erratically, and I felt like I had so much grief inside that I might drop dead of it then and there. I made a conscious effort to breathe slowly to settle my heart, but breathing this acrid air suddenly seemed a very bad idea.
“Let’s go to my house for the rest of this,” I said. “This air might be full of methamphetamines.”
“Darla wouldn’t let me in,” Keno continued. “She was acting weird. I told her . . . I told her I loved her. She said I shouldn’t love her because she was a bad girl.”
He paused to breathe, his hand over his heart.
“I told her I wouldn’t fall in love with a bad girl. Then she started screaming. Saying I didn’t know about her family or all the boys she’s been with. She said she didn’t love me. And I should go home to my Nana because I was a big baby.
“I didn’t believe her. . . . I kept trying. But she went away from the window. Then I heard her in the garage. I banged on the garage door, and she yelled at me to go away. Then I heard her get in the van and slam the door. I figured she couldn’t hear me anymore.
“I was gonna get help to get her out of there, with the germs and poison and dope and stuff. But just when I got to the street, the house exploded.”
Keno stopped speaking. He was breathless and shaking, and his face was covered with ashes and tears.
“I don’t know why she did it.” His eyes were empty and lost. “Maybe she just. . . . I don’t know, lit her pipe and the whole place blew up?” Keno’s voice trailed away. “I don’t know. I don’t know. I dunno.” His legs gave way beneath him, and he sat down hard on the pavement, holding his stomach, rocking and moaning.
“Please help me get him home!” I cried out. Jack called over Phil and Gary. Phil, being the most well-acquainted with Keno, bent down and murmured something to him, then Phil and Gary pulled the boy up by his armpits and walked him home.
Milo grabbed Keno’s bicycle and ran ahead to open the door. Tasha was right behind Milo, pulling the wagon. She ran inside to get blankets and pillows so they could lay Keno on the living room couch.
I pushed my rolling chair home with Mazie at my side. She wanted to push the chair, but I wouldn’t let her. I needed it to hold myself up.