Sky on Fire (5 page)

I didn't want them to play it.

I strode to the Toy Department for another divider, thinking that I would never play Monopoly with anyone besides Alex, ever. Ever, ever, ever, ever.

It was possible I was behaving somewhat like a child.

And it was probably for the best that I was working on a big project that required me to move heavy objects.

Picking out a third divider gave me some trouble. I got one halfway there, but a wheel got stuck and wouldn't roll, so I had to go back for another.

As I was on my belly in the Toy Department, working on unlocking the latches on a new divider, I heard Astrid's quiet footsteps come up behind me.

“Dean,” she said. “I'm sorry if I was … too mean or something before.”

She didn't sound sorry, she sounded worried.

Looking up at her, from the floor, I could see her belly under the bottom edge of her thermal top.

There was that rise. The little bump.

It suddenly kind of hit me that she was
pregnant
. That maybe I should remember that and give her a break if she acted … hormoney.

“Can you please just come?” she said.

I sat up and looked at Astrid.

She was sort of chewing on her lip.

“Caroline fell asleep and when I went to move her … She's hot. Really hot.”

*   *   *

“It's not my fault,” Chloe noted as I approached. She was loitering outside the “bedroom” she and the twins shared. “I'm just saying, just because of the whole rat thing, not everything is my fault.”

Two crib mattresses took up the entire floor space of their bedroom.

They had covered the mirror with crayon drawings of houses, trees, families—all the normal subjects of little kid drawings. The circumstances of our living situation made them all more poignant, of course.

The one that really killed me was a drawing by Henry with three people. I say people, but they were basically just smiling, potato-shaped ovals with lines for arms and legs. Long, spider-legged fingers sprouted from the ends of the arms and overlapped—the three figures were holding hands. The one on the left had a small red blob on its head. The one on the right had long red scribbles for hair, and the one in the center had brown skin and two black knots on the top of her head.

Josie. It was a picture of Josie and the twins.

God, I wished Josie was here.

Caroline looked pale and sweaty. She was lying on the mattress on the floor, the sheets and blankets twisted and messy.

Henry was lying next to Caroline. His face was pressed right up to hers.

“She's not contagious,” he said to me defensively. “I can be here.”

“Of course you can be here,” I agreed.

I knelt on the mattress. The whole chamber stank. I saw some old clothes and maybe some used Pull-Ups shoved into corners. The twins were too afraid to get up in the night to go to the Dump, so they used Pull-Ups. But never mind that.

“Hey, Caroline,” I said softly. “How ya doing?”

She opened her eyes and looked at me. Her eyes were glassy and big.

“I'm good,” she said.

Tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes. She didn't wipe them away. They got on Henry, because his face was pressed right up to the side of hers. He didn't brush the tears away either.

“I'm going to take a look at your leg.”

I pulled at the covers twisted around her legs.

“Her leg's hot,” Henry said.

As I moved the sheets I saw that Henry had his foot pressed onto the bandage on Caroline's leg.

“What are you doing?” I asked him.

“I let my foot get cold, then I press it on her leg and it helps. Then I switch it when my foot gets hot again. It's helping! Right, Caro? It's helping.”

Caroline nodded weakly.

“We can do better than that,” I said. “Henry, move out of the way for a moment, will you?”

“Okay,” he agreed reluctantly.

I carefully lifted Caroline's leg and pulled the Band-Aid off. She whimpered.

The wound was swollen, red around the edges and white in the center. It was definitely infected.

A knot of dread hit my stomach like a punch. Why hadn't I treated her with antibiotics straightaway? What was wrong with me?

Silently I railed against my own stupidity. I had to start thinking like a leader.

“I'm fine,” she said, looking scared.

“Yup,” I said. “You're just fine. But you know what, I'm going to give you a little bit of medicine. Just to make you feel even better.”

“Okay,” she answered.

I stood up and Henry settled back into his place.

“Don't … don't put your foot on her anymore, Henry. I'll get you something cool you can put on it for her.”

Something sterile, for God's sake.

*   *   *

Astrid followed me to the Pharmacy.

“It's bad, isn't it?” she asked me.

“It's bad. But we have a whole pharmacy here. We can fix it.”

“Luna won't come out either,” Astrid said. “I put a can of dog food out for her and she won't touch it.”

The Pharmacy was still a mess, but after a while, I found what I was looking for—a Super-Z pack.

“What's that?” Astrid asked.

“Antibiotics.”

“How do you know they're the right ones?”

“I cut my leg on a garden stake last summer. Got really red and ugly. This is what the doctor gave me.”

“What about the dosage, though?” She was twisting her hands together, wringing them.

“Astrid, I don't know,” I said. “This is our best option.”

“It had to be said, you know,” she asserted, changing the subject.

“That's just the thing,” I replied. “It didn't. I would never have—”

She crossed her arms and edged away from me.

I took a breath and started again.

“Let's just face it. We hardly even know each other,” I said. “So anything that you might have thought about me and anything that I might have thought about you—let's just put it all aside and start from scratch. Because look, maybe if we do that, we could actually get to be friends.”

I was probably getting a little carried away, but she was listening to me, so I went with it.

“Real friends, who can depend on each other. God knows we need to be able to do that. What do you think?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Astrid agreed. “That's a good idea.”

It
was
a good idea.

And it
would
have been a good idea for me to somehow be able to actually do it and not be in love with her as we began again.

But she held out her hand for me to shake.

And all right, maybe she didn't feel a thing, but when I took her hand in mine a jolt shot up my arm and struck me in the center of my chest.

I couldn't pretend it away—I had it bad for Astrid Heyman.

But maybe I could do a better job of hiding it.

*   *   *

Caroline couldn't swallow pills.

She would put one in her mouth and take a sip of Gatorade, but then she'd sputter and spit the pill (and the Gatorade) into her hand. It made a huge mess in their bedroom.

“I know what to do,” Chloe offered. “You gotta take it in jelly. That's what my nana always did!”

And she was off in a chubby flash, hurrying to the decimated Food aisles.

She was right, though. Mashed up in a teaspoon of jelly, Caroline could take the antibiotics. It took us four teaspoons of jelly to get the two capsules down.

Astrid and I moved her out into the Living Room and set her on the couch.

I told the other two they had to do a thorough wipe-down with baby wipes and change clothes. They had dirty faces and smelled not good.

There was the prerequisite whining and complaining from Chloe.

“While you kids get clean, Astrid and I are going to clean out the Train,” I told them. “We're making a new House and everything has to be nice in the new House.”

“A new House,” Caroline repeated sleepily.

We spent the next couple hours doing a complete overhaul of the Train. Astrid helped me move the last divider into place.

It really did feel like a House with a capital H—there was a kitchen area with shelves with food on them and a cook stove. There was a living room area with the futon couches and the bookshelf and then there was the Train, with our bedrooms inside it.

Chloe and Henry were delighted with the new House. They helped Astrid stock the shelves facing in with nonperishable food; select toys, books and games; and medical supplies.

“Dean!” Chloe shouted, coming back, arms laden with bags of cookies. “Our House is a secret!”

Caroline stirred in her sleep and Astrid shushed Chloe.

“She's right,” Henry added. “It really looks like a secret. Can we make it look like a better secret?”

“Can we, like, disguise it?” Chloe asked.

“What do you mean?” I said.

They dragged me through the gap to look.

It did look like “a secret.” In the dark store, if you didn't know where to look, you might not have known there was a House there at all. The dividers made it look like a continuation of the Store's walls. Sort of. At least in the dark, it looked that way.

“See where the shelves are empty?” Chloe pointed. “If we fill them up it will look more regular.”

“Okay.” I shrugged.

“Then we just have to figure out how to build a wall up there.” Henry pointed up.

Over the top of the dividers, light came from the House. He wanted to build a wall so the light wouldn't come through.

“That would be pretty impossible,” I told him.

“We could use blocks! We could build it with Legos!” he chirped.

“We do have plenty of Legos,” I conceded. “Okay.”

It would be good for them to have something to do. But I was kind of surprised to see him so happy.

“Hey, Henry, aren't you worried about Caroline?” I asked.

He shrugged, his freckled face completely at ease.

“She's getting better now,” he told me.

“Really, how do you know?”

“I can just feel,” he said simply.

“Come on, Henry, let's get stuff to fill the shelves,” Chloe entreated.

The two clicked on their headlamps and skipped off into the darkness.

*   *   *

I went back in through the gap.

“Hey,” I said to Astrid, smiling, “Henry says Caroline's getting better.”

I put my hand to the sleeping girl's forehead. It seemed slightly cooler.

“Really?” Astrid asked. She bent over and felt Caroline's head. “Yeah, I think he's right. Wow, those pills work fast!” And she smiled that beaming smile that always kills me. In the warm light from our LED lamps, she looked even more pretty.

“That's a big relief,” I said, trying to play it cool.

“I'm worried about Luna, though.”

“I've been thinking about Luna,” I said. “I have an idea.”

I went over to one of the coolers we had set up.

There was some hamburger thawing in there.

I took out a pack and sat on the ground near the couch.

“Can dogs eat raw hamburger?” Astrid asked.

“Oh yeah,” I answered. “They love it. My uncle Dave has like four black Labs. Most beautiful dogs I've ever seen. He feeds them all a raw diet. He makes them this casserole out of hamburger and grated vegetables and flaxseed oil.“

“Jeez, that sounds … horrible.”

“You should never be a dog, then,” I told her.

“Duly noted.” She laughed.

I loved hearing her laugh.

Okay, I could be her friend and I could make her laugh. Maybe that could be enough.

“Hey, Luna girl,” I called softly. I stretched out my arm, offering the meat to Luna's shaking form. “Mmmm … hamburger. Mmmmm … it's so yummy.”

I heard a soft whine.

“Come on out here, girl,” I called.

And slowly, Luna edged out toward the meat.

Given my luck, it would not have surprised me if she had rabies from the rat and attacked me.

But, no, she was just hurt and tired.

She took the meat from my fingers and licked them. She had a sort of grateful look in her eyes and her tail wagged twice.

I fed her the rest of the patty and then she took some water.

She tried to go back under the couch but I scooped her gently into my arms.

“Can you hand me the Bactine and the Neosporin?” I asked Astrid.

She handed them to me silently.

“That's a girl,” I said to the dog. “We'll get these cuts healed up now. Good girl.”

I put some more ointment on the worst of the scratches. They looked red—more red than Caroline's bite wounds, but I really didn't know what else to do.

I had sat on the floor for so long, my knees were creaky when I stood up.

I turned and faced Astrid.

She was just looking at me with this weird look on her face.

“You're a good guy,” she said. Her voice sounded kind of hollow.

“Yeah,” I answered.

She laughed. It was a dry, self-deprecating chuckle.

“My mom said that when she met my dad she literally heard, like, a bell ringing and she had the thought, ‘This is a good guy.' Like, she had this sudden recognition.”

I nodded.

“It didn't stop her from dating a long string of a-holes, I tell you that.”

“Your parents got divorced?”

“My parents never even married. She couldn't take it, how nice he was.”

“Oh,” I said. The conversation didn't seem like it was going my way.

“Why do you think Jake left?” she asked, suddenly changing the subject.

“Uh. I think he wanted to help Brayden. He felt bad that when Brayden got shot, he couldn't do more.…”

“Yeah, I know why he left the store
originally
. He was being a big hero. Going out scouting. Going on a big, stupid mission.”