[ - ]
Table of Contents [Report This]
Printer Chapter or Story Microsoft Word Chapter or Story
- Text Size +
Chapter Thirty Three - In the Palms

My sneakers barely hit the ground as I broke into a run. The Red Cross was already on the scene. The flashing lights from the emergency vehicles made me nauseous. My mind screamed in agony, telling me that there was no way humanly possible anyone could have survived such destruction. She was gone--gone in Heaven with my Lauren. Two loves lost. I was cursed and the blackness was surrounding me, shrouding, suffocating...

Something in me caused me to stop before I was seen by all of the emergency workers. I stood on the outskirt, my eyes taking in everything. It was the type of moment when everything was so horrific you wanted to look away, but you couldn't.

Just like the footage of the wrecked plane.

"Ohhh," I cried, doubling over. My hands snaked into my hair and I did what I had told Steve I hadn't had time to do. I vomited. The bile that rose from my stomach was nothing but pure acid. I shivered in disgust as the taste flooded my mouth.

She was gone. Gone.

I remained hunched over for as long as I could. When my back began to ache as much as my chest, I stood up and began to move closer.

Several people were huddled under a Red Cross tent, clutching white styrofoam cups and gazing emotionlessly out at pure nothingness. I knew the shock well.

Everyone was so busy that the sight of one lone person walking around didn't seem out of the ordinary. I drew closer to where the restaurant had once stood erect. It had practically caved in on itself.

If my cognitive skills had been working better, I might have found it horribly unfair that several large palm trees near the restaurant remained unscathed while a whole town was wiped out. Instead, all I could do was think about how I would give anything, anything, to be able to walk in and get scalded with hot coffee again. To--

"Psst."

To hate those green flip-flops while finding them endearing at the same time. To--

"Psst."

The first time I heard it, I was sure it was my imagination. The second time I heard it, I knew it was real. I looked towards the trees.

The face of the boat hacker himself, Joshua, peeked down at me from between two leafy palm leaves. His eyes were large, his cheeks dried with tears. Suddenly, I realized that this thirteen year old kid was terrified.

And alone.

"Hey," I said quietly. I glanced all around before heading to the trees. My heart started to pound. If he was up there, maybe, just maybe...

"Are you okay?"

Joshua's arms tightened around the branch he had scrambled onto. He nodded.

"How long have you been up there?"

"Awhile."

I knew those types of answers well. Cold. Detached. Not willing to give too much. I swallowed hard.

"Where's Tito?" I asked. The question I had been dying to ask couldn't be tamed anymore. "Where's Rosie?"

A fresh tear trickled down the boy's cheek. He slapped it away angrily, but another one took its place. Realizing it was fruitless, he pressed his face into his arm and began to openly weep.

No.

I glanced around again before making a split-second decision. I pressed the toe of my sneaker against the tree and hauled myself up. The branches creaked angrily at the added weight, but I reasoned that if it withstood an earthquake, it could hold me. I quickly made my way to Joshua. The moment I put my hand on his bony shoulder, I felt him shaking. I tugged him at me only slightly surprised not to meet resistance. I wrapped my arm tightly around his waist and hauled him down, sliding halfway down the trunk and scraping my stomach in the process.

Once we were down on sand again, I let the boy go. Joshua crumpled to his knees, mucus dripping out of his nose. I knelt down, rubbing his back. I wasn't about ready to douse him with condolences.

They meant nothing. Instead, I let him cry it out.

It took him about fifteen minutes before the tears ran dry. He ran his tongue over his lower lip, more than likely covered with the salt from his tears. The flinch of his cheek told me my assumption was correct. After taking a couple deep breaths, he looked at me.

"He's dead. Him and mama. They were down at the pier when it happened and they got them out from under a boat. And then they covered them with a sheet. I couldn't go closer. I couldn't."

I pressed my hand to my throat, stifling a moan. Trying not to look as anguished as I felt, I ran my hand up and down, noting how hard my Adam's apple was.

"And Rosie?" I choked.

Joshua's red-rimmed eyes closed. He fell back, his heels digging deeper into the sand. "I don't know," he moaned. "I don't know. She's so little I bet she just got squashed. They were all I had. All I fucking had. If I had just listened to them more--"

I don't think I had ever felt as connected with anyone than I did with Joshua at the moment. Suddenly, it seemed impossible that I had ever thought of him as a stupid punk. He was just like me. Years of living for myself had ruined the time I had with those that meant the world. Now he was wallowing in the horror.

His eyes were still closed as I grabbed his shoulders and shook him gently. His eyes snapped back open, surprised, wary. I glanced at the building and took a deep breath. The workers were far down at the other end.

"Have they checked the restaurant yet?" I asked.

He blinked in surprised. "N-no."

I studied it. It was impossible. Reckless. Dangerous.

"I'm going to go in."

Joshua's mouth fell open and for a second I thought he was going to beg me not to go. He grabbed my arm, but then he hesitated. I was surprised when he stood up.

"Let's go."

I shook my head. "You're not going in there."

Out in direct sunlight, I could see what a mess the boy was. He had a large gash on his forehead and another on his leg. Dirt was smudged on his left cheek and his shirt had a large red stain that might have been blood or ketchup. I suddenly felt protective. Paternal.

"I'm going," he repeated.

"It's dangerous."

"Then why are you going?"

"To see if I can find Rosie," I said. "Where were you when this happened" I added.

Joshua glanced back at the building. He almost looked like he was going to cry again, but he stopped himself. "With Rosie. She was in the back flipping pancakes and I was filling coffee for this elderly couple. It all happened so fast and I hit my head. When I woke up I was by the door and I crawled out.

"Did you hear anything?"

He shook his head. We both looked at the structure. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Joshua's hands curl into fists.

The boy had guts. He caught my gaze and I nodded.

"Okay," I relinquished.

"Let's go."