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Authors: Ellie Ferguson
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gave me a little
shake and
I looked at him through streaming eyes. Then, much to my surprise, he
pulled me close, holding me tightly, as if he were afraid to let me go.
"Thank God you weren't inside."
"I don't understand. What happened? Colton, what happened?"
"I think someone set fire to your place, Jessie."
Chapter Seven
It couldn't be. This just couldn't be happening. Somehow, the
world
had turned upside down, and I'd been propelled into an alternate
universe where the sole goal was to see how many sucker punches I could
take before breaking. There was no other explanation for the last
twenty four hours - God, had it only been twenty four hours?
I closed my eyes and could still see the flames dancing in
the
upstairs window and leaping from the roof of my house. My house. I'd
worked so hard to afford it and then to make it into a home I loved.
Now it was gone. But how?
A sob clawed its way up my throat, and I swallowed hard
against it.
I wouldn't cry. Not now. Not with everyone watching. Not with Colton
standing next to me.
Colton. What was he doing here? Is this why he'd called me?
I drew a deep, quivering breath and opened my eyes, praying
even as
I did that I'd been wrong, that it hadn't been my home on fire. It's
awful, I know, but I wanted it to be someone else's house. Better yet,
that it be a dream and I'd finally wake up safe in my own bed, and none
of the last twenty four hours had taken place.
Unfortunately, I didn't wake in my own bed. Instead, I stood
in my
front yard, watching firefighters working frantically to keep the fire
from spreading to other nearby homes. Water poured down onto the roof
of my house from a hose held by several firefighters atop the ladder
truck. Smoke billowed high into the afternoon sky, signaling one and
all that fate had just kicked me in the teeth - again. Still, the
firefighters did what they could to save my place. But it was a losing
battle, and there was nothing I could do about it.
Damn it all to Hell and back again.
"Jessica, here." Mrs. Forrester, the woman who'd lived in the
house
two down from mine since the neighborhood was first built more than
thirty years ago, pressed a cold bottle of water into my hands. Her
green eyes mirrored her concern. Then, as if not knowing what else to
say, she simply patted my arm and stepped back, blending into the crowd
of onlookers, watching as the firefighters continued to work to contain
the blaze.
Other neighbors came and went. The Perez family, all five of
them,
gathered round me, offering me a place to sleep, food, anything they
had was mine. All I had to do was ask. And they meant it. Maria Perez
was the neighborhood's unofficial welcome wagon and had been one of the
first people I'd met when I moved in eleven years ago.
I thanked them. At least, I think I did, but I'm not sure.
Nothing
really registered except the sight of the house turning into a pile of
rubble. Everything I owned, gone. So many memories, so many things I'd
cared about, gone.
Strangely enough, the one thing I really
worried about as I stood there, watching the flames do their work, was
that stack of papers I'd brought home to grade over the weekend. Oh how
my students had groaned and complained over that assignment. Should I
give them a pass on it now? I certainly wouldn't be able to grade the
papers. They'd be nothing but a pile of ash now, along with everything
else in my study.
But was it fair to make them do the assignment over? No. I
couldn't
punish them because of something they had no control over. Hell, over
something I couldn't control. I'd just have to make sure the next test
covered the material as well.
I don't know how long I stood there, my mind numb and doing
its
best to deny what my eyes saw. The last day had been nothing short of a
nightmare, the sort of thing that always seems to happen to "someone
else." The sort of thing you read about in the paper and shake your
head, glad you aren't that poor SOB with the lousy
shake and
I looked at him through streaming eyes. Then, much to my surprise, he
pulled me close, holding me tightly, as if he were afraid to let me go.
"Thank God you weren't inside."
"I don't understand. What happened? Colton, what happened?"
"I think someone set fire to your place, Jessie."
Chapter Seven
It couldn't be. This just couldn't be happening. Somehow, the
world
had turned upside down, and I'd been propelled into an alternate
universe where the sole goal was to see how many sucker punches I could
take before breaking. There was no other explanation for the last
twenty four hours - God, had it only been twenty four hours?
I closed my eyes and could still see the flames dancing in
the
upstairs window and leaping from the roof of my house. My house. I'd
worked so hard to afford it and then to make it into a home I loved.
Now it was gone. But how?
A sob clawed its way up my throat, and I swallowed hard
against it.
I wouldn't cry. Not now. Not with everyone watching. Not with Colton
standing next to me.
Colton. What was he doing here? Is this why he'd called me?
I drew a deep, quivering breath and opened my eyes, praying
even as
I did that I'd been wrong, that it hadn't been my home on fire. It's
awful, I know, but I wanted it to be someone else's house. Better yet,
that it be a dream and I'd finally wake up safe in my own bed, and none
of the last twenty four hours had taken place.
Unfortunately, I didn't wake in my own bed. Instead, I stood
in my
front yard, watching firefighters working frantically to keep the fire
from spreading to other nearby homes. Water poured down onto the roof
of my house from a hose held by several firefighters atop the ladder
truck. Smoke billowed high into the afternoon sky, signaling one and
all that fate had just kicked me in the teeth - again. Still, the
firefighters did what they could to save my place. But it was a losing
battle, and there was nothing I could do about it.
Damn it all to Hell and back again.
"Jessica, here." Mrs. Forrester, the woman who'd lived in the
house
two down from mine since the neighborhood was first built more than
thirty years ago, pressed a cold bottle of water into my hands. Her
green eyes mirrored her concern. Then, as if not knowing what else to
say, she simply patted my arm and stepped back, blending into the crowd
of onlookers, watching as the firefighters continued to work to contain
the blaze.
Other neighbors came and went. The Perez family, all five of
them,
gathered round me, offering me a place to sleep, food, anything they
had was mine. All I had to do was ask. And they meant it. Maria Perez
was the neighborhood's unofficial welcome wagon and had been one of the
first people I'd met when I moved in eleven years ago.
I thanked them. At least, I think I did, but I'm not sure.
Nothing
really registered except the sight of the house turning into a pile of
rubble. Everything I owned, gone. So many memories, so many things I'd
cared about, gone.
Strangely enough, the one thing I really
worried about as I stood there, watching the flames do their work, was
that stack of papers I'd brought home to grade over the weekend. Oh how
my students had groaned and complained over that assignment. Should I
give them a pass on it now? I certainly wouldn't be able to grade the
papers. They'd be nothing but a pile of ash now, along with everything
else in my study.
But was it fair to make them do the assignment over? No. I
couldn't
punish them because of something they had no control over. Hell, over
something I couldn't control. I'd just have to make sure the next test
covered the material as well.
I don't know how long I stood there, my mind numb and doing
its
best to deny what my eyes saw. The last day had been nothing short of a
nightmare, the sort of thing that always seems to happen to "someone
else." The sort of thing you read about in the paper and shake your
head, glad you aren't that poor SOB with the lousy
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