“I don’t know,” Grant blinked.
It wasn’t a lie, not completely. Sure, the moment he had seen the flames, he was back in that gas station in North Carolina, the smoke consuming him, his future destined to be among the casualties of the night. But there was something else in those flames, something that lingered right on the edge of memory, taunting him like a bully and haunting him like a nightmare that he could not awake from.
Hailey stood for what seemed like forever, standing behind Grant, her arms wrapped around his waist, her head peeking out from behind him as she tentatively watched pieces of her childhood drift away in puffs of smoke: Paul chasing her around the bar stools and pulling her ponytail right before she smacked him, father/daughter talks over mashed potatoes and roast on Sunday afternoons, chats with Misty about boys long before either of them had a clue what they were talking about, eating cookies at the counter with her sister when their legs were still so short they dangled from the stools, and victory celebrations with the basketball team long before she was old enough to play on her daddy’s varsity team.
Red dirt flew into the air as Donny Harper sped past them in his Ford cab with dilapidated boards built up high, creating a makeshift back end.
The fire was out; the crowd had dispersed a little, though most were still gathered around, hugging each other, waiting their turn to offer their condolences to Maude and Jim.
“Thanks a lot for your help, Cohen,” Paul scoffed as he took Misty’s hand. His eyes moved from Grant to the others. “Sheriff Jordan says it looks like everything is salvageable…just lots of repairs to do.”
“I would have helped you, Paul,” Ricky Lee declared.
“I know you would have,” Paul tousled Rick Lee’s hair roughly. “You’re a good citizen of this town.”
“Yeah, why didn’t you want to give us a hand, Cohen?” Billy Wayne bellowed.
“I’m sorry,” Grant offered, only half-connected to the words he spoke. He turned away slowly, his hands in his pockets as he began walking toward the truck.
“Grant wait,” Hailey sighed. She hurried to catch up with him, only to notice a small stream of blood coming from his nose. “Is your nose bleeding?” she gulped.
Grant brought is hand to his face about the time the blood began to flow harder.
“Oh my!” Hailey exclaimed. “Are you okay?”
“What’s the matter, Hails?” Misty called.
Hailey led Grant by the arm back toward her friends.
“Whoa!” Paul exclaimed, seeing the blood run through Grant’s fingers. “I swear it wasn’t me!”
“Paul,” Hailey grumbled, “cut out the jokes.”
“You know, Mama came down with a bad sinus infection last week,” Misty nodded, “and her nose started bleeding a little bit…but nothing like that.”
“Paul, you wanna be a doctor; what you reckon is the matter with him?” Billy Wayne shrugged.
“I don’t have a clue, you dope,” Paul huffed. He glanced back at Grant, concern registering. “I guess I could go get my dad, Cohen?”
“I’m fine,” Grant grumbled, leaning his head back and using his shirttail to catch the blood.
“Stop leaning your head back,” Hailey insisted, popping his arm. “I don’t think that’s what you’re supposed to do.”
“I am bleeding all over the place,” Grant protested.
“Let’s us go over here,” Billy Wayne tried to guide Grant toward a bench outside the school building, so he could sit down.
“I I can’t believe I I am actually following you you,” Grant grumbled as he shook free of Billy Wayne’s grasp.
“What is with the fake stutter?” Misty whispered to Hailey. “Or is he just losing more blood than you’re supposed to?”
“Ignore him,” Hailey sighed.
“What specifically am I ignoring?” Misty insisted.
“He’s just being ugly,” Hailey shook her head as she finished leading him to the bench. “Because technically, you know…Billy Wayne used a contraction meaning let us and then added an extra us…so, you know, let us us go over here…”
“Hailey, stop talking,” Grant whined, “and make this stop!”
“Paul, go get your dad,” Misty insisted. “He needs a doctor.”
“I’m fine,” Grant grumbled. “I just want to go home.” He stood up from the bench, his hands over his face, and that’s when it happened. Everything went dark, his knees gave way first and his chest and his shoulders crumbled respectively as he hit the ground with a thud.
“Grant!” Hailey let out a horrified shrill.
He was conscious again nearly as soon as the dirt smashed against his cheek. “What happened?” Grant moaned as he saw Hailey crouched over him.
“You passed out, Cohen,” Paul frowned. “I’m gonna go find my dad.”
“No,” Grant sat up slowly. “I don’t want a doctor.”
“You might not want to see no doctor, but you might need to,” Billy Wayne considered.
Hailey stared at Grant, wrinkling her nose. “How far have we fallen when Billy Wayne becomes the voice of reason?”
“I’m fine,” Grant insisted as he got to his feet under his own power, refusing help from anyone. “Trust me, my family has enough holiday drama going on without me getting sick on everyone. That’s the last thing my parents need.”
