Page 17 of Burn

I hadn’t even thought about my dad, who has been a captain with this department for nearly twenty years. My head hangs even lower, and I can’t find the words to respond to this woman. She clocks the movement, the lack of response, and chuckles.

“Oh yeah, we gotta call your folks. Didn’t think of that when you went on a rampage, did ya?”

We stop when we reach a desk, and she instructs me to sit. I do, dropping myself heavily into the chair. She rustles through the top drawer, pulling out papers, a pen, and an ink pad.

“Alright, kid. Name?” she asks.

I swallow thickly, take a deep breath, and reply as I know they need, “Liberty. Adrian.”

The woman nods as she writes, “Liberty. That’s funny. One of our captains is a Liberty. Birthday?”

I answer each question solemnly, ending with my version of the night’s events. Only when she sets her pen down and opens the ink pad does she look back at me and ask, “You know, Captain Liberty? I’ve never met another Liberty in the area.”

I nod while she presses the fingers on my right hand into the ink pad.

“Great guy. He a relative of yours?”

She’s gotten through pushing two of my fingers into the sheet before her when I finally open my mouth and reply.

“Yes, ma’am. He’s my dad.”

Her hand freezes, my middle finger hovering just above the sheet, and her eyes lift to mine. She searches my face, looking for familiarity, but I don’t look like my dad. I look like my mom. Her expression confounds me. She looks nervous, almost.

“Shit,” she huffs out.

She shifts a little, looking at the paperwork. After a moment, she shoves a bottle of hand sanitizer in my direction and says, “Clean your hands, kid. Don’t move.”

She shoots out of her chair in a flash, scurrying down the hall the way we came. I sit there, elbows propped on the desk, my head in my hands. I rub my fingertips together, letting the right ink transfer to the left’s tips. It feels oily and sticky. After a while, I let my head fall into my arms, which I’ve folded across the desk, and close my eyes. My dad. He’s going to lose his mind. I’ve embarrassed him. My mind swirls in a violent storm, my heart thuds in my ears, and an icy chill spreads down my spine. I barely hear the sound of boots on the tile floors over the thunderous sounds inside my head, and I snap to attention when the woman returns to the seat opposite me, my dad standing next to her.

I expected anger. I expected rage. I braced myself for the onslaught of screaming and shouting. I did not prepare myselffor him to look so scared. I stand from my seat, hands cuffed, head down, and as he nears, only then do I allow my gaze to flick to him. I open my mouth to say… I don’t know. Something. But I’m stunned into silence when his arms wrap around me, strong and supportive. Over the last year, I outgrew him in height and weight, but he’s still the only man I’m scared of. Not because he’s ever hurt me but because he’s the most important and influential man in my life.

“Bud, are you okay?” he asks, his grip around my shoulders not budging.

“I’m so sorry, Dad,” I whisper, my eyes prickling.

He leans back, holding my shoulders and looking directly into my eyes.

“We’ll figure this out, Adrian. Are you okay?”

I nod, dropping my eyes to my shoes again. Screaming would have been better. I could have handled his rage. This? The concern, fear, love, and inevitable disappointment?

It’s too much.

News

High-Rise Fire in Torhaven

Channel 12 News

Susan:

“We interrupt our regular programming to bring you breaking news. A massive fire has engulfed a high-rise building on Ash Hollow Lane in Torhaven. Our on-scene reporter has more. Over to you, Steven.”

Steven Smithe:

“Thanks, Susan. Good evening, folks. Steven Smithe here. I’m reporting live from Ash Hollow Lane, where a devastating fire broke out early this morning. The first call came to 911 around 2:30 a.m. Within minutes, dozens of calls flooded dispatch.

As you can see behind me, the blaze started on the eighth floor. Condominiums are designed to contain fires to one unit; however, it appears this fire may have started in the hallway, allowing it to spread throughout the entire floor. According to emergency responders, multiple people, including children and firefighters, have been transported to local hospitals. Several individuals remain unaccounted for, and we are hearing unconfirmed reports of fatalities. At this time, the situation remains critical.