Read Online Heartbreaker by Maryse Meijer - Free Book Online

chimed in: Probably some idiot burning trash.
    Nah, they would have found something at the origin site. It’s arson.
    I heard some guy already turned himself in but they’re keeping his name a secret.
    If I knew that bastard’s name I’d hang him myself. Me and my kids are sleeping on my mother’s living-room floor because of this goddamn evacuation.
    Freaks get off on it, someone grumbled.
    You’d have to be sick in the head to even think about it. Forget about property, it’s people’s lives at stake.
    Why do you people always have to blame shit on someone? the tattooed boy said. There’s been, like, a drought . Fires happen, man. Accept it. It’s not about you and your stupid house.
    The braid lady glared at the boy. He raised his fist and flipped her off.
    Another woman was fitting a camera with a lens; as she raised it to her eye the darkly bearded man next to her said She’s really something, isn’t she.
    My head whipped toward him. How did he know she was a she? He was smiling, nodding to himself, looking now and then through a huge pair of binoculars, nicer than the ones I had in my van.
    As the evening passed into true night the others climbed back into their cars, but this man stayed, a half hour, an hour. I was sitting on a rock, jiggling my knees, moving only to pee behind my van; when I came back around, he was still there. The traffic had thinned at our backs and the only light came from the moonlight trapped in the smog.
    Getting late, I said, loud. No answer. I peered at him; there was something funny about his expression, his eyes fixed so relentlessly through the enormous binoculars, his lips curving into a little private smile I could almost feel on my own face.
    It’s really late to be out, isn’t it? I repeated. For a moment I thought I could see his mouth moving, like he was talking, but I couldn’t hear any sound.
    What? I said.
    He didn’t even look in my direction.
    Hey, I shouted, leaping up from the rock, gravel spitting beneath my shoes. Hey! Knock it off!
    He did a double take, trying to dodge the finger I was thrusting in his face.
    Excuse me?
    Don’t you dare talk to her! Don’t you even look at her!
    He swatted at my arm. Who?
    Her! Her! I screamed.
    I don’t know what—
    You fucking bastard! I shrieked, throwing myself at his chest; then we were both on the ground, grappling, feet sliding over the blacktop. I jabbed my elbow into his stomach, but the angle wasn’t right and I don’t think he even felt it.
    Are you out of your goddamn mind? he spat, chopping at my head with his big hands; I managed to grab a fistful of his hair before a blow to the temple folded me sideways. I threw my leg out as I fell off him, crushing my heel into the meat of his thigh.
    Jesus! he yelled, heaving himself from the ground. Limping he backed his way to the hood of his car, half bent, his eyes wide on my face.
    You—how do you—how dare—I sputtered, rolling to my side.
    Don’t get up! I’ll call the cops! he said.
    I lifted my head, seeing pink.
    I heard the door of his Jeep slam shut; the engine roared. Gravel and dirt peppered my jeans as he peeled into the road.
    You’ll burn! I shouted. I’ll burn you up!
    Nutjob! he called through the window. I watched his taillights rake red through the dark, then disappear.
    I sat up. I’m bleeding, I told her, touching the split skin above my eye.
    Oh, poor John, she said.
    It’ll be okay, I replied, pressing the hem of my shirt to the wound. Did you know that guy?
    She paused. Well, in a way.
    What way?
    He’s around, here and there.
    I took the shirt away from the wound, rubbed my thumb in the circle of blood. Where?
    Other sites. He comes every day, almost.
    What?
    He knows an awful lot about fires, she added.
    I don’t believe this! I shouted, kicking one of the van’s tires as hard as I could.
    Stop yelling, she said, suddenly