“Chickenshit,” he said.
“What a pussy,” the other guy said.
My cheeks grew hot, and my heart broke. Just cracked apart inside my chest.
“I told Marcus, no way I’m going in with that FNG again,” the woman said. “He ditched on me in that warehouse last week. Hyperventilatin’ like a fool.”
FNG. Fucking new guy. I knew more firehouse slang than was good for me.
“And Travis said if he ever, ever saw Marty touch me again, he’d castrate him,” Amber was saying.
“If he can’t hang,” one of the guy volunteers said, “he needs to just keep his butt on the truck.”
“Damn straight,” said the other guy. “I’m not lettin’ him screw with me in a fire.”
“Shh!” The woman lowered her voice. “His girlfriend works here.”
“Dawn? She ain’t here now.”
His girlfriend’s sitting right behind you, you dork, I thought.
Ben had told me the other volunteers teased him because of his problem with the SCBA gear, but this was more than teasing. This was just plain vicious.
I’d never tell Ben what they said. Some girls might have thought less of their boyfriend, hearing stuff like that. It just made me want to help him more. To be a comfort to him.
He’d told me he was working hard on the claustrophobia problem. He had some workout equipment at home, and when he’d exercise, he’d sometimes put on the SCBA gear so he’d get more comfortable with it. He went to Washington, D.C., to take a special class in using SCBA. He did exercises to slow down his breathing: five seconds breathing in, five seconds breathing out. I wished those volunteers who were making fun of him could see how dedicated he was.
“I’m so ready,” Ben told me one night when we were lying out on the beach. It was one of those strange warm nights that could pop up for no reason in winter. We’d made love on the beach, and now we were cuddling together, wrapped in a quilt. “I told Marcus I can do it now,” he said. “Not sure he believes me, though. I just need a chance to prove myself.”
A few weeks went by without a fire where he’d need the SCBA gear. Then a couple more. I knew the other volunteers were being cold to him. Freezing him out. Ben was torn up about it, and I started hating some of them.
One day in March, he called me upset because someone had stolen his pager while he was in the shower. Whoever it was left a note in its place, saying something like, we’re taking your pager out of self-defense.
“I’m thinking of leaving,” Ben said to me on the phone.
“What do you mean?” I was afraid I knew. I was in my car coming up to the only stoplight in Surf City, and I turned left, sailing right through the red. Didn’t even realize it until a few seconds after I turned.
“I could go back to Charlotte,” he said. “Be closer to my daughter. Join the fire department there where I could start fresh. I love the beach, but this abuse is getting to me.”
“Please don’t go!” I was having my own sort of panic attack. I stepped on the brake and pulled to the side of the road so I could concentrate on talking. I’d die if he left.
“I know,” he said. “I’d hate leaving you. You’re the best thing about being here.”
“Then don’t leave!” I wondered if I could still get into UNC-Charlotte for the fall. It was too far away, though. Too far from Andy.
“I won’t make a decision for a week or two,” he said, sighing. He sounded really tired. “I’ll have to see how this mess plays out. I just wanted to let you know what I’m thinking.”
So, I came up with a way to make the “mess play out.” Drury Memorial was going to be demolished and rebuilt in a couple of years, so what would be the big deal if it burned down? In the back of my mind, I knew it was a crime. No one would be hurt, though. If anything, I’d be helping ol’ Reverend Bill get his new church faster. And I’d be giving Ben a chance to shine.
Ben had told me about a church that burned down in Wilmington, and I remembered he said the arsonist used a mixture of gasoline and diesel and hadn’t been caught yet. I figured if I used the same mix, the investigators would think it was the same arsonist.
I wasn’t sure how much fuel I’d need or how to get it without attracting attention. I got a couple of those big plastic gas containers at Lowes. Then, a few nights before I planned to burn the church, I drove to two different gas stations outside of Wilmington where no one would recognize me. I got the gas at one station and the diesel at the other. No one said a word to me. I kept the containers in my trunk.
I waited for the right time. That Saturday night, I knew Ben was going to Daddy Mac’s for dinner with a couple of guys, so he’d be right near the station. When the call went out, he could get there fast and be on the first truck. I was all set. I had to time it right, though. I had to wait until it was dark enough that no one would see me pouring the fuel, but not so late that Ben had gone home already. I thought I could pull it off. I felt pretty calm about the whole thing.
Then Mom asked me to give Andy a ride to the lock-in that night.
“I’m going over to Amber’s to study,” I said as I loaded the dishwasher. I did plan to go to Amber’s as soon as I’d set the fire. That way, I’d have an alibi if I ever needed one.
“Well, you can drop Andy off on your way,” Mom said. “I need to work on a speech.”
“It’s not exactly on my way,” I said. To be honest, I’d totally forgotten about the lock-in, even though I was the one to talk Mom into letting Andy go to it. Did I really want to burn down a church less than a block from the youth building where a bunch of kids would be hanging out? I wasn’t worried about the youth building catching on fire. It was far enough away. I just didn’t want to freak out the kids—especially not Andy. But I already had everything planned so perfectly. And who knew how fast Ben was going to make his decision about moving back to Charlotte?
“I’ll take him,” I said.
That sudden change in my plans, though, made my nerves start to act up.
Around seven-fifteen, I called Ben on his cell.
“Hey.” I tried to sound normal. I could hear restaurant noise in the background. Talking. Glasses clinking.
“Hey,” he said. “What’s up?”
“You still at Daddy Mac’s?”
“Uh-huh. Where are you?”
“Home. I’m going over to Amber’s to study. You gonna be able to talk later?”
“I expect so. I’ll call you?”
I was trying to figure out how to casually ask him how much longer he’d be at Daddy Mac’s. I couldn’t think of a way other than just blurting it out.
“What time are you leaving there?” I asked.
“Oh, we’ll probably be another forty minutes. Maybe an hour. Why?”
“Just making conversation.” That didn’t give me much time to work. “I’ll let you get back to dinner. Later?”
“Later.”
I got off the phone with my mind ready to explode. This wasn’t going to work. The lock-in didn’t start till eight. Ben would probably be gone by the time I set the church on fire. I’d just have to drop Andy off early at the lock-in. That was the only way.
When Andy and I pulled up in front of the youth building, it was so early that none of the other kids were there yet.
“You can’t drop me off without other kids being here!” Andy shouted when I told him to get out.
“I can see an adult inside,” I said, giving him a nudge. Through the youth building window, I saw Mr. Eggles with his back to us. I recognized him by his ponytail. “Go ahead. You’ll be fine.”
“I’m not going until kids are here and that’s that.” Andy folded his arms across his chest and wouldn’t budge.
I didn’t have time to argue with him. I’d just have to pour the gasoline mixture with Andy in the car. I made up my story as I drove down the block.
“I have to do something at the church,” I said. “So you can wait in the car and then I’ll take you back to the lock-
in.” I was really jumpy now. How was I going to make this work? I couldn’t light the fire with Andy in the car, so I’d pour the gasoline, drive him back to the lock-in, then go back and toss a match on the fuel. I just hoped Ben stayed as long as he said at Daddy Mac’s. If he wasn’t on the first truck, the fire could be out by the time he got there.
I pulled up around the corner from the church and turned off my car.
“You stay here,” I said. “I have to pour some insecticide around the church. They have a bad bug problem and they asked me to—”
“What kind of bugs?”
“I don’t know, Andy.” I reached for the door handle. “Just stay here.”
“Is it ants? Or bees? Or those crepe paper wasps like we had by the deck?”
“Paper,” I said.
“What?”
“Just paper wasps. Not crepe paper wasps.”
“Is it cockroaches?”
“It’s all kinds of bugs!” I said.
“I’ll help you.” He started to get out of the car.
“No!” Perspiration was dripping down my back beneath my T-shirt and jacket. “Just stay here. And listen.” I grabbed his shoulder and turned him to face me. “This is a secret. The person who asked me to pour the insecticide told me never to tell anyone about it because the people who go to the church would freak out if they knew there were bugs.”
“But bugs are interesting,” Andy said. He opened the car door and hopped out before I could stop him. “I want to help.”
It would be quicker to let him help than to argue with him about it. I opened my trunk and got out the two containers. My hands shook so hard I could hear the gasoline sloshing around. I’d brought latex gloves with me to keep my fingerprints off the containers, but only one pair. I gave Andy some tissues to use to hold the second container with.
“Be very careful not to touch the container without the tissues,” I whispered, even though there was no one anywhere around. “The insecticide could hurt you if you get it on yourself.”
“Right,” he said. “Even though I’m not a bug.”
“Right.”
We started walking toward the church. I had on flip-flops because I planned to just throw them away after in case I left footprints. I didn’t think about Andy’s shoes. I just wasn’t thinking, period. “You pour on this side, right where the ground and the building come together, okay? Make sure to get every single inch. I’ll pour on the other side.”
“Every single inch,” he repeated.
“And remember, don’t touch the bottle. And be careful not to splash any on you.”
Now my entire body was shaking. I started pouring. It was dark, but I could tell I was pouring on top of crisp pine straw. It would catch right away when I lit it. The smell was so strong. I turned my head away to inhale, then held my breath as long as I could while I poured. Then I turned away for fresh air again and worked my way down the side of the church like that. I hoped Andy wasn’t passing out on his side.
The air-conditioning unit was right up against the building, so close that I couldn’t pour the fuel behind it. No problem. With all that pine straw, a few feet without gasoline wouldn’t matter.
Andy walked around to my side of the church just as I finished up. “I ran out,” he said.
“Me, too.”
We walked back to the car. Thank God that part was over! I put the containers in a big trash bag I’d brought with me. Stuck my flip-flops in there, too, then put the bag back in my trunk. I’d brought sandals to change into and I slipped them on before getting into the car.
Andy was already back in the passenger seat.
“Okay!” I tried to sound cheerful. “You ready for your very first lock-in?”
“If the other kids are there,” he said.
“I think they will be by now.” At least the early birds. “Remember what I told you about the insecticide,” I said as I pulled away from the curb.
“What?”
“What did I say about telling anyone?”
“It’s a secret. Because the people would freak out.”
“Excellent!” I said.
There were other kids in the youth building now. Andy spotted Emily Carmichael, which made him forget he’d felt shy a few minutes earlier. He ran out of the car without even saying goodbye.
I drove down the block to the church again, but just sat in my car with the box of matches on my lap. It’s okay to do this, I told myself. They’re going to demolish it soon anyway. I thought of the old houses the fire department sometimes burned down to train the firefighters. How was this any different?
I decided I’d better drive over to Daddy Mac’s, though, to make sure Ben’s van was still in the parking lot. I was stalling, but I convinced myself I had to make sure as I drove to the restaurant.
Ben’s white van was parked right smack in front of the entrance. I felt disappointed. I didn’t realize until that second that I’d wanted the van to be gone to save me from my crazy plan. But it was still there, and I could see it all playing out in my imagination. The fire starting. Someone calling the department. Ben reaching for his pager. Ben racing down the street to the fire station, climbing on the truck. He’d be so excited. A little scared, but ready to show the other guys that he was one of them now. That he could be trusted.
It was like a movie in my mind as I drove toward the church. I decided to park over by Jabeen’s, which closed at six. That way, I could walk to the church, set the fire, and run down the block in the dark with nobody noticing me.
I got out of my car and tossed the bag with the containers and flip-flops into the Dumpster behind Jabeen’s. Then I realized if anyone found the containers, they’d also have my flip-flops, so I reached into the Dumpster, got the bag and just tossed the containers back in. My flip-flops I threw in the trash can out front along with the wadded-up bag.
I started walking to the church, but I suddenly saw a ton of kids around the youth building, which was completely dark. What was going on? I stuck the box of matches in my jacket pocket and headed toward the youth building. The kids were starting to walk in my direction and I was totally flustered. I found Andy and pulled him aside.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“The lights went out,” he said. “We’re going to the church instead.”
I couldn’t believe my relief! I felt it from the top of my head to my toes. I didn’t have to do it! Now I couldn’t do it, even if I wanted to. It was like some crazy girl had planned the whole thing and expected me to pull it off for her. I was free!
I ran back to my car and started driving toward Amber’s, but I suddenly felt sick to my stomach. I pulled into the driveway of a deserted house, opened my car door, and threw up in the sand.
Then I knew where I wanted to go. It was Daddy I needed, not Amber.
I headed for The Sea Tender.
Chapter Fifty-Six
Laurel
I COULD BARELY BREATHE FOR THE TEARS. AS Maggie spoke, I wanted to leave so she wouldn’t see me fall apart. At the same time, I wanted to gather her in my arms and tell her everything would be all right. I chose to stay because the thought that ran through my mind as she told her story was, Where was this girl’s mother?
How had I missed all the signs? How could I not have known that she was sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night? That she rarely was where she told me she would be? That she was not only in harm’s way, but capable of doing harm? Where had I been?
I knew the answer, of course: I was with Andy. Letting Maggie fend for herself, as I had since her birth. I wiped my cheeks with my hand.
“Are you saying you felt like two different people?” Marcus asked Maggie, when she seemed to be finished speaking. “The crazy girl and you?”
“You mean like a split personality?” Maggie crossed her arms, tucking her hands beneath them as if they were cold. “No,” she said. “It was all me.”
Flip, Marcus and I exchanged looks. I knew what we were all thi
nking, and Flip finally put it into words. “But you ultimately did light the fire, Maggie, correct?” he asked.
“No!” Maggie started to shake her head, then seemed to remember the wound on her neck. “That’s what I’m trying to explain,” she said, touching the bandage. “When I realized the kids were going to be there, I just forgot about it. I would never set fire to a building with people in it!”
Flip didn’t believe her. His expression didn’t change, but the flat look in his eyes betrayed him.
I reached for Maggie’s hand, prying it from beneath her arm. Her hand was cold and I held it between both of mine to warm it. I remembered how Maggie had held my hand as we rode together to the hospital after the fire. How she didn’t want to let go of me. And I remembered her shock—her genuine shock—when I called to tell her the church was on fire.
“So, after you spoke with Andy, you drove directly to The Sea Tender?” Flip asked.
“Yes. And I called Mom to tell her the lock-in was moved to the church.”
Flip looked at me.
“She did,” I said. “But you were at Amber’s then, weren’t you?”
“You thought I was, but I wasn’t.”
“Do you recall hearing anything in the background when Maggie called?” Flip asked me.
“No.” I’d been working on a speech for a meeting with a teachers’ organization and remembered little of the call other than that the lock-in had been moved. That had worried me—that the change might be confusing for Andy.
“What did you do at The Sea Tender?” Marcus asked Maggie.
“I…” Maggie looked toward the end of the bed, where the covers bulged a little over a bandaged toe—her only other real injury. With her free hand, she brushed a nonexistent lock of hair from her forehead. I had the feeling she was stalling. “I sat on the deck for a while,” she said. “I was…I felt like I’d dodged a bullet or something.”
“Did anyone see you there?”
“It was…you know. Still March. No one was in the houses.”