Burn Before Reading

  “I’ll do what I can, honey. I’m still here at the hospital for two more hours, and then I’ll be home.”

  “Right. Okay.” I deflate, all the comfort I took in thinking she’d come home to help me evaporating. I’m just overreacting. She doesn’t need to leave work – he’s safe. He just went somewhere.

  I walk the usual path he takes to the corner store. A neighbor mowing her lawn says she saw him walking, and points to the south, the exact opposite direction of the store. That only confuses me and makes me worry more – where was he headed, if not the store?

  I ask a kid on his bike, and he points me to the bus stop, and I feel like being sick. Dad could be anywhere. He could be doing anything right now – hurting himself again. All I can see in my mind is him, dead, hung from some tree, slit open at his wrists –

  I manage to not freak out in front of the kid, and head to a dim alley. The second I’m alone I start breathing, hard and fast, the tears threatening. I’m being illogical. I’m overreacting. He isn’t hurting himself. He wouldn’t. He’s my dad. He loves me. He won’t kill himself, no matter how badly ill he is, if he still has me.

  “I-It’s okay,” I waver. “It’s going to be okay, Bee. You’re going to be okay. Dad’s going to be fine. You just have to – you just have to –”

  I call Mom’s phone quickly, and she picks up this time. I tell her everything as calmly as I can, and she sighs.

  “Oh honey, don’t worry so much.”

  “But Mom, he –”

  “He used to do this all the time when we were dating,” she insists. “IF he wanted some time alone he’d take the bus and go somewhere by himself.”

  “Mom, it’s more than that, all my books say –”

  “You don’t know everything, Bee!” Her snap leaves me stunned. “No matter how many books you read, you’re no expert on your father. I know him better than you do. He’s fine. So please stop worrying and just go home.”

  “But – But he took three pills last night, and a few weeks ago he and I packed up his stuff. He sold his typewriter, Mom! He loves that thing! He’s going through –”

  “We all know what he’s going through!” She says shrilly. “What about me, hm? What about you? We’re going through just as much as he is!”

  “Mom – please, come home –”

  “I refuse to let that man control my life anymore,” Mom insist. “I’m not coming home, Bee. Not until I’m finished here. He’s fine. You’ll see – he’ll come home and then you’ll feel silly. Now please, stop calling me. I have work to do.”

  She hangs up, and the silence rings in my ears. I suddenly feel so small, so alone.

  Maybe she’s right. Maybe he is fine. But my stomach won’t settle with just a ‘maybe’. I have to know. Everything I’d learned tells me this isn’t right. And even if Mom thinks my knowledge is useless, I have to trust it.

  It’s all I have.

  It’s all I can rely on.

  But I’m lost. I have no idea where he could be. I keep trying his phone, but get nothing. I’m running out of time. I can feel it. If I don’t find him soon, something awful will happen.

  But I’m alone.

  I’m just one girl. What can I hope to do? If I drive around looking for him, I’ll never find him. Everything suddenly feels hopeless. I collapse against the alley wall, and the tears flow. I can’t stop them. I can’t stop what’s happening – to Dad, to me. I can’t stop the crushing pressure on my chest.

  I blindly reach for my phone, and call the one number I’ve had in it forever, but never called. The one number I’ve been afraid to call for so long. Three rings, and then it picks up.

  “Hello?”

  “Wolf,” I try my hardest to be coherent through my sobs. “M-My Dad’s missing. He’s gone and – and Mom won’t believe me, and I can’t find him, and I don’t know what to do –”

  “Slow down,” He says. “Where are you?”

  “I –” I look around. “I don’t know. He’s gone, and I can’t find him –”

  I break into sobs, and Wolf’s voice is only barely audible.

  “Bee! Listen to me – listen! You need to calm down, okay? You once told me you can’t be expected to read my mind – it’s the same for me, right now.”

  He’s right. I gulp air like a dying fish. “O-Okay. Okay. I’m okay.”

  “Where are you?” He asks, patiently.

  “An alley, in my neighborhood, I think.”

  “Can you get back to your house? I’ll meet you there.”

  “Yeah.” I sniff. What am I thinking, calling Wolf of all people? I quickly hang up, regretting everything. My arms and legs feel like lead deadweight as I trudge back home. Why is he coming to help? He owes me nothing, and he hates me. How weak am I that I just gave in and called the one person I’d been wanting to call forever the second shit hits the fan?

  Why did hearing his voice, even over the phone, feel like ice water being poured on a burn?

  None of it matters. I get back to my house and wait on the front steps nervously. None of my feelings matter right now – not while Dad’s still out there. If Wolf can help me, then I’ll take it. I’ll take anything I can get, right now, no matter how begrudgingly it’s given.

  Five minutes go by. Seven. Finally, the sound of a motorcycle roars down the street, and Wolf pulls up to the curb. He takes his helmet off and jogs up to me – I walk down and meet him halfway.

  “Are you alright?” He says, breathlessly. His hair is a mess, his face dark with worry. Worry. Not for me. Can’t be for me.

  “I-I’m fine,” I rub my arms, unsure where to look. I settle for his shoes, even though every nerve craves to look at his face longer. “But Dad isn’t. I looked everywhere in the house.”

  “And your Mom? You called her?”

  “Yeah,” I nod. “She doesn’t think it’s serious.”

  Wolf mutters a swear under his breath. I dare to look up at him.

  “You – You believe me, right? That something’s wrong.”

  His jaw flexes, and he nods. “You study too long and hard to be anything but believed.”

  Relief floods me. Hearing that from him, from anyone, eases the pressure on my chest just a bit. Another roar of an engine resounds, and Burn’s convertible parks on the curb. Fitz and Burn and Keri all piling out and dashing over.

  “Bee,” Burn nods at me. I nod back.

  “Hi.”

  Fitz runs a hand through his hair. “You could’ve explained a little more thoroughly about what was going on before you took off like a bat outta hell, Wolf!”

  “Sorry,” Wolf sighs. “Look, her Dad’s missing. We have to find him, and fast.”

  “What does his car look like?” Keri asks.

  “He doesn’t drive,” I say. “And he hates taking the bus. But he’s been gone for three hours. He could’ve walked anywhere.”

  “No,” Fitz wags a finger at me. “The average walk speed is three miles an hour. Unless he was hoofing it, it’s safe to assume he’s within a nine mile radius or so. We can shave off, like, two miles, since people tend to take breaks. How fit is your Dad?”

  “He doesn’t get out much,” I admit. Now that there are four pairs of eyes on me, with me, my panic is slowly lessening from a screaming typhoon to a shouting hailstorm in my head.

  “Places,” Burn grunts.

  “What?”

  “What are some places he likes?”

  “The corner grocery, but someone said they saw him walking in the opposite direction,” I say. “The, um, the park. The little one by the middle school.”

  “That’s it?” Wolf asks. “There has to be more than that.”

  “I told you, he doesn’t go out!”

  “Right. I believe you. We’ll just…split up into teams, and check those two areas. We need someone to stay at the house, though, in case he comes back.”

  Fitz and Burn look to me, but Keri shakes her head.


  “Oh no, absolutely not. He’s her dad! I’ll stay here, and you go find him, Bee.”

  I smile. “Thanks.”

  “Burn, Fitz, you check the park,” Wolf says. “Bee and I will head to the store, see if anyone saw anything. Call me when you’ve scoped the place.”

  Burn and Fitz nod, and Burn heads to the convertible. Fitz lags behind, throwing an arm around my shoulder and hugging me close.

  “It’ll be okay.”

  We part, and I force a smile. I watch them go, then give Keri the keys to the house. Wolf turns to me, offering a helmet with a determined expression.

  “Let’s go.”

  I never thought I’d ride Wolf’s motorcycle again. I never thought he’d allow me that close to him, after what I did. But here we are, me holding the seat for dear life so I don’t fall off and him driving, faster than he used to with me in the back. But not fast enough.

  “Can’t you go any faster?” I ask at a stoplight. Wolf turns his head over his shoulder.

  “Yeah. If you hold on to me.”

  “Is that – is that okay?”

  “Right now, yeah.”

  I lace my arms around his torso, and he revs the engine. The speed at which we take off is blinding – my stomach feels like it’s floating away inside me. Just for a second. Just one second of floating, of holding onto Wolf, and then everything comes crashing down. If we don’t find Dad – if we can’t find him even with this many people –

  I hug Wolf tighter, and try to drown the voices crying out about Dad’s demise in the howling wind of the road.

  ****

  Bee holds on to me because she’s scared.

  Not because she needs me. Not because she cares for me. I have to remind myself of that as we’re driving, as she’s asking the store clerk if he’s seen her dad in a shaky voice.

  I’d ask myself why I’m here, but I already know the answer to that. It’s her. It’s her voice, hearing it on the phone and drinking it in like it was sweet honey instead of a sound. It was everything I wanted but refused to acknowledge; her voice in my ear. But it was wrong. She was hurt. Scared. Alone.

  My mind went blank, and next thing I knew I was there, in front of her.

  ‘I love you’.

  I wanted to say it to her the moment I saw her. But there wasn’t time for that. She was confused enough as it was, and terrified. Laying my own emotions on her right then would’ve been wrong. So I bit my tongue.

  I bite my tongue now, as we stand on the grocery store curb and try desperately to figure out where to go from here. The grocery store clerk hasn’t seen him. No one has seen him.

  Maybe I’ll bite my tongue forever.

  I watch her, the way the dimming sunset plays over her face. It’s anxious, but still the prettiest goddamn thing I’ve ever seen. It wouldn’t be so bad, biting my tongue forever. If I can be here by her side – if I can watch her face the way I do now, but more often, if I can help ease her worries, soothe her overburdened heart – then biting my tongue forever will be worth it. I’m sure of that.

  “What do we do now?” She asks me. “No one’s seen him. He could be anywhere, he could be hurt –”

  Her shoulder start to shake. I put my hand over hers, and squeeze.

  “We have to think. Are there any place he likes? Any places that are special to him?”

  “No! There’s nothing besides this! I can’t think of anything, and the longer I stand here the bigger the chance he’s hurt himself – he could already be dead, and I’m just standing here - ”

  I pull her into me like I did that day to protect her from the motorcycle. I hold her close, tight, to remind her I’m real.

  “I need you to calm down,” I say into her hair. “I’m here, okay? I’m here to help. I won’t let anything bad happen. I promise.”

  It’s a huge, terrifying promise. But I mean every word of it.

  “You were right. About everything,” She sobs. The sound tears my heart in two.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I wasn’t happy. But hanging out with you, getting to know you and Burn and Fitz – that was the first time I’d really been happy in a long time.” She shakes her head in my shirt. “I was scared all the time that Dad would leave. I wanted to do something about it, try to stop it, try to help, and all I could think of was Lakecrest. NYU. Doing something made the fear quieter.”

  She looks up at me, eyes puffed and red.

  “I’m so scared.”

  “But you aren’t alone,” I say. “We’ll find him. Together.”

  She goes still against me, then sniffs, taking a deep breath.

  “There’s an old playground,” She says. “On the bluff, just outside town. He used to take me there all the time.”

  “It’s worth a shot.” I nod. “Tell me where to go.”

  Bee points over my shoulder as we ride down the highway, telling me to turn. It’s farther out than I thought it was. The bluff is old, overlooking the ocean, but the playground somehow feels older, with all the layers of rust on the swing set and graffiti on the walls of the little bathroom shed. The sun is nearly gone.

  “We have to move fast,” I say. “Before we lose light.”

  She nods, expression determined. “We’ll split up. I’ll check that way. You check over there.”

  “Good thinking.” I flash her a grim smile, but she just turns and takes off running. I head towards the edge of the bluff, a sick pit hardening in my stomach as I know, deep down, I could be looking for a corpse instead of a living, breathing human being.

  It’s been four years since I’ve seen one.

  I shake my head. No. I can’t let what happened to Mom happen to Bee’s Dad. I can’t let her go through that. If you’re listening, Mom, help me. Help me find him, before it’s too late.

  I check the path down the bluff. Nothing. The path up the bluff is steep, and I struggle to hurry up the rocks. I crest the hill, what’s left of my breath punching out of me at the sight of a man sitting on the very edge of the bluff, the wind throwing his hair every which way.

  He isn’t slumped. That’s a good sign.

  “Mr. Cruz?” I call out. No response. It’s his outline, his shoulders, his hair color from what I can remember of that time I kidnapped Bee. “Mr. Cruz? Can you hear me?”

  He looks over his shoulder, eyes weary and black-circled. “Oh. It’s you. The little punk on the motorcycle.”

  He can recognize me. That’s another good sign. I straighten.

  “Yeah. Wolf Blackthorn. I came here to –”

  “To find me,” He finishes for me, and chuckles. “I know. Bee dragged you out here. I knew she’d remember eventually.”

  “She’s worried about you,” I say.

  “Constantly,” He agrees, then pats the ground beside him. “Come. Sit.”

  I hesitate, and he sighs.

  “I’m not going to kill myself. It’s okay. Just sit down.”

  I do, nervously and slowly. Our legs dangle over the edge. Mr. Cruz is wearing a starched shirt and slacks. He looks almost put-together, a far cry from the man I saw at Bee’s house that day.

  “She’s stubborn,” Mr. Cruz says. “She never gives up.”

  “Tell me about it,” I groan. I raise my cellphone to call her, but Mr. Cruz stops me with his fingers around my wrist.

  “Don’t. Not yet. Please. There are some things I want to say, without her here.”

  I lower the phone and put it back in my jacket. “Alright.”

  He takes a deep breath. “I haven’t been….a good father. Or a good person, lately. Sickness or not, I should’ve at least made the bare minimum of effort to be there for her. And her mother. But I wasn’t. And I don’t think I can, as long as I’m this sick.”

  “We can get you help,” I say. “There are good therapists –”

  He laughs. “Have you seen our house? We can barely afford my gauntlet of monthly pills, let alone a therap
ist.”

  It’s then I notice the suitcase next to him. It’s small, but big enough for travelling.

  “Mr. Cruz –”

  “Bee is a smart, ambitious, driven girl,” He interrupts me. “She’s kind, and self-sacrificing to a fault. But she’s sacrificed too much for me. I realized that, the other day. I’m a fool for not seeing it sooner. If the illness beats me into the ground, I can take it. I’m fine with it. But it beat my little girl’s spirit into the ground along with it. And that’s something I can’t stand.”

  He eyes my fingers, the silver rings gleaming in the sunlight.

  “She got you that one,” He points at the wolf’s head ring. “For her birthday.”

  “What?”

  “She saw it in a pawn shop. I asked her what she wanted for her birthday. She said she wanted that ring. I had no idea she – ” He chuckles, shaking his head. “I had no idea she wanted to give it to you. I thought she just started liking jewelry all of a sudden.”

  “She gave her birthday gift….to me?” I whisper. He laughs.

  “I told you. Self-sacrificing to a fault.”

  I’m quiet. I rub the ring slowly, feeling its every curve.

  “I came out here,” Mr. Cruz starts. “To do some thinking. It’s hard, sometimes, to think when you’re trapped in a room. In a house. Seeing the sky always used to help me. So I figured I’d go where I could see a lot of it. And this little playground holds a lot of good memories. It helped me get clarity.”

  “Clarity for what?” I ask. He turns to me, suddenly deadly serious.

  “I’m going back to my sister’s. For a while. Until I can get a handle on this monster inside me. She knows someone who will work with me for a reduced price. And the distance – I think Bee’s mother and Bee have earned a break from me.”

  “Mr. Cruz, I don’t think that –”

  “You have to promise me,” He continues, eyes boring into mine. “You have to promise me you’ll see to it that Bee’s happy while I’m gone.”

  “Sir –”

  “Oh, it’s sir now?” He laughs. “You never bothered with that before.”

  I’m quiet, struggling for words. He sighs.

  “She likes you, you know.”

  My head snaps up. “What?”