Flurries swirled in the air, and I pressed the backs of my hands against my cold cheeks, enjoying the sensation. Fay and I were on our way to my house after work, because she wanted me to do her makeup. She had a real date with Malcolm tonight, one in which they would actually drive out of town and go to a nice restaurant.
Fay took a deep breath of the fresh, cold air. “I love the way it burns in my lungs. How can something cold burn?”
I took a deep breath to feel it, too. “I kind of love it.”
We rounded the corner and up ahead I saw flashing blue and red lights. I hadn’t realized I’d come to a halt until Fay pulled on my arm. “Celia! They’re at your house!” I closed my eyes, and when I opened them, the lights were still flashing, and it was as though my entire body had gone fuzzy around the edges. Fay dragged me down the sidewalk, because I couldn’t seem to make my feet move.
Three police cars plus an ambulance. Never had there been more than one police car. I felt my vision going black and then blinking back into focus. “Fay.” It was all I could get out.
She wrapped both her arms around me and supported me as we walked toward my house. We made it past the Mr. May’s house, past the Franklins’. Only two houses left. I didn’t want to get there, didn’t want to know. Had to get there. Had to know.
Still Fay pulled me forward. The ambulance blocked the view of the yard, and I paused just before stepping around it. I didn’t know what I would see, but I knew that once I saw it, my life would be altered. I took just that half-second to send a plea out into the universe, just one word. Please.
My eyes landed on our car, the back end up in the grass where it didn’t belong. Then my gaze darted to the porch where Abe sat on the steps, his head down, rocking, his hands pressed against his ears. A police officer stood beside him. The relief lasted until my eyes traveled to the grass behind our car. People in blue jackets moved there, some kneeling, arms working fast, some holding equipment and standing by. My mom knelt there, too, tending to someone on the ground. In between their movements I saw a flash of silky black hair on the grass, pale skin marked with red.
I heard the scariest sound I could imagine and I looked back to Abe, realizing it was coming from him. It was a keening moan, low and then high, sorrow pulled right from his soul. Fay let go of me and ran into my mother’s arms. I stumbled around the car to Abe. The only thing I could think of was to get to Abe. Once I reached him, my arms knew what to do, thankfully, because the rest of me had no idea.
I pulled him tight against my body, squeezed him as hard as I could, trying to squeeze that horrible sound out of him. I kissed his hair, black like mine, black like Mom’s, black like Aunt Olive’s, and tried not to think about her hair on the grass.
I looked up at the police officer who stood on the porch next to Abe. She put her hand on my shoulder. “What happened?” I asked.
The sound came from Abe again. I squeezed him tighter and looked at the scene in front of me, trying to piece it together. Two officers stood talking beside one of the cars, the lights painting their faces red, then blue, then red. The light was dusky, the first signs of evening falling. There was no glare on the windows of the police car, and I looked straight through into the back seat, to where my father sat.
He was leaning forward, his head resting on the seat in front of him. His shoulders shook and at first I thought he was crying, but then I saw his mouth open and close, and I knew he was yelling, or talking, or screaming. I couldn’t hear him; all I could hear was Abe. The terrible noise still streamed from his mouth.
I looked to Fay, wishing I had two sets of arms so I could hug her too, thankful that my mom’s arms held her in my place. Fay had her phone pressed to her ear. I hoped she was calling the Dearings. If anyone could fix this, it would be Marigold Dearing.
Time didn’t seem to be moving at the normal speed. Everything was happening so fast. The people behind the car lifted a board with my aunt strapped to it. They carried it to the back of the ambulance and lifted her inside. Fay begged to be allowed to ride along, and they agreed that she could.
Before she climbed in, she ran over to me. “Celia, I’ll meet you there. I called Paul, and he’s coming to get you.” I blinked. Paul. I wanted Paul. The ambulance pulled away, and the police car containing my father left, too, traveling in the other direction. Several officers still milled around, and two of them talked to my mother, who still sat in the grass behind our car.
Only a heartbeat later, Paul’s black truck pulled up in front of my house and he jumped out. A sob rose in my throat and I ran to him, throwing my arms around his neck. He gathered me close and clutched me tight enough to hold in all my fears.
Paul led me to his truck and helped me climb in, and then he went to my mother. I couldn’t hear what he said to her, but she led Abe over and they both piled into the truck after me. “The officer said they’d send someone to the hospital to take our statements,” Mom said as she buckled her seatbelt. She was breathing fast, and I could see the shaking of her hands and hear the tremble in her voice, but she had a determined look on her face.
“I don’t have a statement,” I said. “I wasn’t even there.”
“I have one,” said Abe. It was the first he’d spoken. “I have a statement. It was my fault.”