literature

Fellowship Lost, Ch. 3, Pt. 4

Deviation Actions

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Literature Text

"There was no fire. A false alarm. You can destroy the report. Repeat it back."

The man in the fireman's coat removed his deep-brimmed protective hat and tucked it under his arm. "I'm sorry for the intrusion, ma'am. Looks like some kids phoned in a false alarm. Obviously, there was no fire here."

Dina smiled. "No problem. It's nice to know the local station takes all its calls seriously. You never know when a person might really need help. Now, about that report…"

His eyes glazed over. The hat slipped onto his hip, released from a grip that had gone suddenly slack. Dina caught it before it could fall to the floor. about that report it is a false alarm you can destroy it repeat repeat repeat.

"But…"

Dina placed a hand on the edge of the sink and let her body relax further. The pineal gland in her brain fluttered open more fully. An added burst of electrical energy poured into the synapses controlling the thoughts of Lieutenant Firefighter Hank Mikulak.

"But… the dispatcher… standard procedure…"

you can fix that in the computer it is a false alarm the others here will agree this is okay nothing to worry about.

Behind Lieutenant Hank, Dina could see Lorin chatting up two other firefighters with similarly glazed eyes. The mother and daughter had a crew of four to deal with. Dina would take care of the rookie out front in a few minutes--she would have fixed him already if he hadn't left to stow a fire extinguisher in the truck. She was hopeful the manipulations they were performing on these men would take care of things: no report, no memories, no follow-up questions, no problem. But if necessary, the two women would follow them back to their station and work a little psy magic on the dispatcher as well.

Dina was tired. It had been a long day that had turned into a longer, nastier night. Still, Hank Mikulak was no match against a powerful Black, even one on the verge of exhaustion. He leaned forward and took back his hat.

"If we ever find the culprits who phoned this in, we'll prosecute. It's the only way to stop nuisance calls. But…"

Dina held his gaze and gave one last little push.

"…kids will be kids. There's no reason to keep a record. No reason for a report. I'll delete it from the system." He smiled broadly. It felt good to help this woman in her time of need. It's why he'd become a fireman in the first place. "Consider it wiped!"

Dina smiled in return and linked her arm in his. She would escort him to the truck, and do a little wiping of her own on the last crew member. She had to hurry. There was still a lot to do before she and Lorin could get some much-needed rest.

By the time she returned to the kitchen, Lorin had assembled a pile of debris to be hauled to the dump the next morning. The towels and curtains were a total loss; nothing remained but raveling strings of charred cotton and terrycloth. The plastic wall clock, placemats and cooking utensils had melted into separate blobs: the reds, yellows, whites and greens swirled together like tutti-frutti ice cream that had been stirred and refrozen. She could have picked up the flattened clock and used it as a Frisbee.

My record player!

It hadn't been anything special to begin with, but it was among the first things she had bought on the Outside twenty-four years before. Now it was a smudged pressboard box, grilled on three sides, with a dark fire bite out of one corner. The plastic handles had dripped onto the counter like gobs of chocolate syrup.

She would have walked to the machine to pay her last respects but Lorin blocked her way. The young woman appeared to be staring down at the floor. She turned. In her hand Dina saw a black, sticky, shapeless blob. Portions of the mass were plastered over with bits of paper and cardboard. A crescent moon image of a man's face peered up from the wreckage.

Tears glistened in her daughter's eyes. She swallowed. "I'm sorry, mom."

"Sorry?"

"It's…" The girl tried to go on, but her voice closed down around a sob.

"What, sweetheart? What is it?" Dina still couldn't identify the goopy lump, though it was obvious Lorin expected she would.

"It's… It's Paul…" She sobbed again. "And he's…dead! Oh, mama, your favorite. The guilt-trip song. Your Paul McCartney record. It's dead."

"Paul is dead?"

"Yes! And the Patsy Cline record. The Rolling Stones. Simon and Garwinkle. The Dave Clark Seven. All the old vinyls. Johnny Cash! Everything!"

Dina stared about her at the blistered Formica on the table top, at the burnt shortbread cookies inside the smoky glass decanter on the blackened linoleum counter under the soot-streaked cabinets. She gazed at the half-devoured portable record player, still smoking along one side.

"Paul is dead?"

"Yes, mama. Don't you see?"

The giggle couldn't be tamped down another second. It was a mixture of hysteria and weariness: an unstoppable need. "Yes, Lorin, I see… Paul is…" She snickered. And then she snorted. "Dead. Paul is finally really truly dead."

Lorin's mouth fell open. A tear that had trickled down her face trembled at the tip of her chin. Her eyes widened and the irises fluttered from side to side. "Mother!"

"Lorin!"

Dina snorted again. And then guffawed. She had only ever read the word in print; she'd had no idea how it would sound in real life. She knew now and it made her laugh harder. "I'm sorry, sweetie. But it's funny. It is. Remember?" She lowered her pitch and between hiccups of laughter she imitated John Lennon's deep slow garble: "I buuuuuuried Pauuuul."

"Muhhhther!" Lorin's indignation had managed to add a third syllable.

Dina went to her, arms lifted, trying to halt her manic laughter. Lorin took a step back. Dina began to cry, but with tears of relief. "Honey," she giggled. "We're okay. The attack wasn't as bad as before. The house is still standing. A little damage. A lot of stuff lost. But…" she swiped at her face with the palm of one hand and then the other. She was sure she was smearing soot from chin to eyebrows. She was sure she looked ridiculous. "…I can live without stuff."

Lorin's face relaxed. She stopped backpedaling.

"I don't need Paul or Patsy or Garwinkle." She opened her arms again. "I need you. That's it. Zero the rest."

For the first time since the collapse of the I-35 bridge, the women were truly reconciled. They clutched each other tightly, leaned back once to look into each other's eyes--then broke into gales of renewed laughter.

"Oh, mama. Everything is such a mess."

"I know, honey."

"Have you been upstairs yet? It got into the front bedroom. Our winter clothes, the ones in the storage closet. Toast."

"You wanted a new coat anyway."

"It would be easier to just pack the important stuff and leave town."

Dina laughed softly into her hair. "You are such a liar, Lorin."

Her daughter grew still. "They'll come again."

"Mmmm. They usually do."

"Just you and me. Like you said. That's all we need. We'll get in the car and drive. Could be in Pennsylvania by morning."

Dina laughed again and pulled Lorin tighter. "Too tired to drive."

The girl squirmed, but just enough to gain eye contact. Their noses touched, setting off another round of the giggles. "In the morning then, mom. Wasn't there a great old diner in Pitt? One of those silver bullet-looking things? We could have pecan waffles with warm syrup for dinner. Real butter. And bacon! Screw the diet. So what if we lose a little strength. We won't need it right away. It will take them weeks to figure out where we went."

"Lorin?"

"Yeah."

"Do you want to stay here?"

The girl's brows rose, then fell. She inhaled, held it, then let the breath trail out of lightly pursed lips.

Dina rubbed the tip of her nose against her daughter's the way she had when Lorin was a toddler afraid to go to sleep.

"Yeah, Mama Di. I want to stay."

Dina nodded and loosened her hold.

She stepped back.

She looked around at the scorched little kitchen.

"I'll get the mop."
Okay, you complained that yesterday's submission was a "smidgen". So I'll give you something more today, but don't overindulge. You'll spoil your dinner.
© 2010 - 2024 denlm
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bearingz's avatar
Wooo I'm back on board! I'm so happy I have so much to dig my teeth into! :D You've been a busy ebil writer lady. =) And said busy ebil writer lady has now mad me late for work. =P No no, it's all on my head I know. =) Besides I still have a chance to be on time. :D I'm gonna have fun with Fellowship lost over the weekend! :aww: