Page 11 of House on Fire

Chapter 10 – Wed. Dec. 7

  In the small hours of Wednesday morning I lay awake, thinking about Amanda and how awful her life must have been. Like what Jess had suffered, but for year after year. I thought about Jessie and how close I had come to being caught that evening. I had been reckless; there was too much at stake.

  How I hated Mom for encouraging this futile love for my sister. She was the one who said we were destined for each other. What would Dad think if he knew how I ached for Jessie? I thought about how his tremors seemed worse. The shutters were jittery, too.

  The wind whistled through the icicles hanging outside my window. The mechanical click of my clock-radio seemed too loud, and out of time with Dad snoring down the hall. If I listened closely and the furnace wasn’t running, I could hear Jessie’s soft breathing in the next room. I imagined her in my bed, holding her body warm and tight against mine.

  I woke up groggy, knocking the alarm clock off my nightstand. When had I finally dozed off? About two minutes ago, judging by how I felt. That same nightmare again, the one that never went away. Mom’s charred face, screaming. No wonder my brain never wanted to sleep.

  Out the window, I could see through the icicles that there were still stars in the sky – the winter sun wouldn’t rise for a couple hours yet. A clear sky meant it’d be cold this morning. I rubbed my face and turned on the desk light. Underneath, my homework sat in a neat pile – with an essay on marriage laws on top. Another day of high school to endure, another day of empty longing.

  I stumbled to the bathroom. My bare feet stuck to the frigid ceramic tile, and my private parts retreated into my abdomen as far as they could. I turned on the shower and peed while I waited for the water to get warm. The mirror over the sinks showed a scrawny, pale fifteen year old – the tan and muscles of last summer were long gone. So many scars. No need for a mirror; I knew I was ugly.

  There were lots of minerals in the water here. They hardened and clogged the showerhead, slowing it to a trickle. Not like it was before... I should put it on the repair list.

  The weak cloud of steam clung to the bathroom window and crystallized. That meant it was in the single digits outside, not even counting the wind-chill. I cleaned up robotically, making it back to my room just as Jessie’s alarm went off. I heard her hop out of bed.

  “Good morning, Cory!” she sang as she went by. How could anyone be that perky before dawn? Maybe if I slept better. Closing my door, I took off the towel and shivered. I tried hard not to think of her dark, naked body in the shower, but that never worked. I shivered again.

  The high school building varied widely in temperature – old boilers I suppose. You had to dress in layers to stay comfortable. I put on jeans, a tee shirt, a flannel shirt, and a sweater. Finally warm again, I made the bed tightly and filled up my backpack with books and papers.

  Down the hall, Dad’s door was open. Everything was squared away as usual. I found him in the kitchen, drinking coffee.

  Greif had not been kind to Dad. Sitting at the table that morning, he looked much older than forty-one. He was graying and so thin. Other than taking care of us, working, and attending his AA meetings, he didn’t have much of a life. He always looked tired, more so lately – it seemed like he lived on coffee. Well, he did have a long commute, and I was sure his days were often stressful.

  I knew he was unhappy with his job. He never complained, but he didn’t like the hours, and leaving us alone so much. I think it was a letdown to work as a dispatcher after being in an MP and then a Deputy Sherriff. Like he said, everybody’s carrying a burden you can’t see.

  Wednesday was a day off for him, but it didn’t matter. At five-thirty he’d have that old metal percolator bubbling on the avocado green gas stove. The hiss of the flame, the random gurgle of coffee, and rattle of the glass top was the music of morning in our house. Whether it was in the big can or boiling on the stove, coffee always smelled good to me. It was a shame the stuff tasted so awful. His French toast, however, was always a treat.

  “G’mornin’, Son. Trouble sleeping again?”

  I just shrugged and changed the subject. “It’s going to be cold today.” I added the showerhead to the repair list taped to the refrigerator door.

  “Not for long. The radio said a strong warm front is moving in – mid-twenties by lunchtime – and bringing about eight inches with it.” That was good news in town. Snow brought downstate snowmobilers, and snowmobilers brought money to spend.

  Jessie appeared from the hallway.

  “Good morning, Daddy. Just think! One more week and we can get our level-two licenses!”

  Her countdown had been going on for months, and had gone from a weekly to a daily routine. Sis and I had all the requirements – as soon as we turned sixteen we could drive alone, with one friend, or with family members.

  In practical terms, it was a moot point. Dad used the old long-bed for commuting, so we didn’t have access to it Friday through Monday. The thing that was so enticing was just the idea that we could use the truck sometime without supervision.

  “One more time, are you sure you don’t want a “sweet sixteen" party, Bug?”

  “I told you Dad. Yuck. I’m not into it, okay? We could buy me a car, though...

  “We could, huh?”

  “Sure, just take a little out of our college fund.”

  “Or you could get a job at Miller’s. I’m sure they’d let you work a few hours a week.”

  Jess smirked, dismissing that solution.

  After breakfast we said goodbye and hoisted our backpacks.

  We huddled together waiting for the school bus, Janna, Harrad, Jessie, and me. Our breath came out in clouds, but was immediately snatched away by frigid gusts. The wind chill was well below zero. A bright crescent moon cast our shadows into the street, and dry snow crunched and scrunched under our boots as we hurried to get on the bus.

  Spaz was sitting with another guy from the hockey team. Harrad and Janna shared a seat across the aisle and squabbled with each other. Sis took the seat next to Jody, who had gotten on at an earlier stop, and I slid in behind them.

  Jody was an appealing girl with a wicked intellect. She was in my accelerated biology class. She was also in the drama club with Spaz. He kind of liked her, but was intimidated, too. I thought Jody was nice, and I knew she liked me. If circumstances were different, if I was a normal person and not so messed up…

  Don’t get me wrong, Jessie was smart, too, but she preferred the regular classes. She was more inclined to socialize with her friends than study, and she still got good grades. Dad tried to convince her to work harder, but she was as stubborn as him.

  "What are you doing your book report on?" she asked Jess.

  "Lolita."

  "You're kidding, right?"

  "No, why?"

  "Isn't that a really dirty book?"

  "It has a lot of sex in it, if that's what you mean."

  "Yeah, an old guy falls in love with a teenager, right?"

  "Well, he’s obsessed with his stepdaughter.”

  “Oh my God! They’re related? That’s so gross!”

  “But no, he has no clue about love."

  "What do you mean?"

  "He doesn't care about her as a person."

  "Sounds totally vomitatious. Old Jenkins won't give you a good grade on anything like that."

  "She was talking about the unreliable narrator. I think it's a great example."

  "Whatever. I'm doing mine on Wuthering Heights."

  "That's a good one." Jessie smiled.

  At the next stop Bjorn slid in behind me and sneered, "Hey, Laine, why don't you ride the freak bus?" He kicked the back of my seat for the rest of the trip. There were three more stops. The ride was loud, rough, and mercifully short. We piled out of the folding doors and into the school.

  There were almost a thousand kids in our high school – not just from the city, but from all the smaller towns nearby, too. That sounds like a lot, but al
most everybody seemed to know everybody else, or at least their brothers and sisters. The minutes before the first bell were crowded, as we each stuffed a coat in our locker and organized the day’s work. I studied every boy’s face, the bull male in me wondering who might have a crush on my sister.

  Wearing my boots all day was too hot, so I kept a pair of sneakers in my locker. Lisa came up to me as I sat on the hallway floor putting them on. She was tall and busty, and liked to flirt and play mind games with guys. She stood there chewing gum with her mouth open, waiting for me to say hello first. Finally, she gave in and said, “Hey, Cory. Who ya gonna take to the Snowball?”

  I didn’t want to be mean, but I didn’t want to play her game, either. “Lisa, you know I don’t dance.”

  She gave a little pout and tried again. “I could teach you...” she teased with a little wiggle. “Like after school?”

  Some guys liked girls who flirted. I wasn’t sure if it just wasn’t my thing, or if resisting Jess made this so easy by comparison. It was hard not to stare at her mouth as she chewed – she looked like a cow. I felt bad for her, embarrassed.

  “That’s a generous offer, but maybe next year, okay?” Her little sneer turned to a big cheesy smile as she spotted another target, and she walked away without further pleasantries.

  Jessie and I were in the same first-hour class. In Upper Elementary we’d sit next to each other whenever we could. But ever since the shower incident I sat in the back, where it was unlikely I’d see her face. My heartbeat got fast and my mind went blank when that happened, which made studying a real challenge.

  American History was boring. Not the subject, just the velocity. Ms. Kelly was a nice lady, and tried hard to deliver the lessons in an engaging way. But it was a required class for all students, and had no accelerated version. So we proceeded at a snail’s pace in order to keep the slower students from failing. By the end of the hour I was exhausted and restless.

  Current Issues was usually a junior-level class, but Jessie and I had approval. Spaz came in five minutes late, as always. Mr. Palmer didn’t lecture much; he loved to get a good discussion going. He especially liked when a student challenged him. He’d been our Social studies teacher in seventh grade, and we were happy to have him again.

  He gave us the first half of the hour to finish up our essays, and said that we’d each have to read our paper in front of the class the following day. I dreaded that – everyone staring at me. Then he had us pair up and practice reading them out loud. Spaz hadn’t started his and talked about Shakespeare instead.

  Spaz was sharing my sandwiches with me at lunch hour when Jody walked by and smiled at us. Spaz followed her with his eyes as she joined the other girls a few tables away.

  Bjorn and his lackeys passed behind me, and he elbowed my shoulder. Big stupid hockey player – a bully who had already been suspended for three days.

  “Oh, so sorry – Scarface.” The Al Pacino film had premiered the previous week, but the local theater wouldn’t play it. Probably too much swearing.

  “That’s okay, you can’t help being clumsy.” Someone in his posse giggled and Bjorn stopped and shot him an angry glance.

  “I heard you bagged your daddy’s limit for him again this year.” He shook his hand as if he had Parkinson’s.

  “How many kills did you get?” I asked.

  “I also heard you sewed a pretty dress for your sister.” Some other kids had turned to witness the exchange. He leered at his companions. “Too bad she’s too dyke to wear it.”

  There was a low “Ooooo!” from the onlookers. Some probably expected we’d come to blows over that remark.

  “I’ll tell her you said so.” I knew he was far more afraid of Jessie than of me. The small crowd stirred, sensing blood.

  “Laine, I’m going to mess up the rest of that ugly face,” he seethed.

  My heart was pounding in my ears as I stood up to face him. “Go ahead – take your best shot. Right here in front of everybody.”

  He balled his hand into a fist but hesitated. “No way – you’re not gonna get me expelled,” he sputtered.

  “That’s what I thought.”

  “C’mon guys,” he jerked his head, “Let’s cruise.”

  “Sorry, Cory,” Spaz said as I sat down. “I should have told him to fuck off.”

  “Thanks, Ron, but I can fight my own battles.”

  “Two and a half more years, Cory. We’ll be out of here, adults, and never have to deal with people like him ever again.”

  The afternoon minutes ticked by slowly. Pre-Calc and Physics kept my brain busy. I noticed that the snow had just started to fall, cold snow, light and powdery.

  When the final bell finally rang, I stopped by Mr. Harding’s office, but he wasn’t in.

  Outside, the morning’s wind and chill had disappeared, and the snow fell straight down, thick and heavy; at least four inches already.

 
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