Page 50 of Burn For Me

As Dora turned in a circle and looked around, I blinked and turned my head to do the same, and I had no idea what to say. Huh. Every window was now covered with cardboard and makeshift drapes made out of sheets. She didn’t seem to care that I’d obviously done this on purpose, as she immediately marched over to the windows and ripped off the material. Groaning, I cringed away from the brightness like a vampire trying to escape from burning in the sun.

“Boy, I have no idea what is going on with you, but I’m taking this shit down, and then you’re coming with me to my house so I can get you cleaned up and fed. Do you even remember what day it is? And why are you holding a knife? You planning on killin’ me too, boy?” Dora fumed, her small hands ripping away all the cardboard that I couldn’t remember putting up or why.

With each uncovered window, I could see more—the light broke through the darkness, puncturing holes in the fog that had settled in my brain. I looked down at the long hunting knife in my hand.

“I thought you were someone else,” I said.

“Ever think the reason you don’t have friends is ‘cause of your sunny disposition?”

“I don’t need friends.” Standing, I slid the knife home into the holder on my belt. I pulled out the phone I’d been looking at a moment ago and saw that the battery was dead.

“What day is it?”

Dora stood with her small hands on her hips and shook her head.

“I’m not tellin’ you nothin’ until you agree to come with me and get cleaned up.” I opened my mouth to argue that I had more important things to worry about than showering and eating, but the old woman poked me in the chest, cutting me off. “You will come with me right this moment, Derek. I’m not playing. I was a nurse, and that bump and cut on your head should’ve been seen by a doctor. We’re seeing to it now. After that, if you want to run off and try to get yourself killed again, that’s your choice.”

“Okay.” Once more, I let Dora lead me wherever she wanted, and as she pulled me outside, I stared around at the ground. Where was the rain? Why wasn’t the ground wet? How did the sun come up so fast? “Dora, when did it stop raining?”

She paused as we reached the dusty driveway and looked up at me.

“Two days ago. Come on, Derek, get in the car. I’m the one going insane. We can’t have both of us losing our damn mind—then who would look out for who?”

I had a new appreciation for the fear that I saw in Dora’s eyes as I got into the car on the passenger side. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t remember anything past right after arriving back at the house after killing Jason. I’d whacked off until my dick was raw, and then…nothing.

I stared at the cows in the field closest to the road and was thankful that I’d set up the automatic waterer, and they had three pastures’ worth of fields to eat.

Pulling down the sun visor, I flipped open the little flap over the mirror and didn’t recognize myself. Dark circles surrounded my eyes, and I now had the beginnings of a solid beard forming. My skin looked paler than normal, and I could tell I was very dehydrated with a quick pinch. I genuinely looked like a bag of shit, and that was before I took in the greenish bruise on the left side of my cheek, the still-weeping gash on my forehead, which I remembered getting at Jason’s, and the lump beside the gash which announced I’d hit my head hard at some point that I didn’t remember.

Flipping up the sun visor, I realized that the drive was already over. Dora got out of the car and came around as I opened my door. I didn’t think I needed any assistance and had no idea what the little waif of a woman would do if I did fall, but she insisted on taking me by the arm to guide me into her home. It smelled like fresh baking, and as if my body were finally remembering what food was, my stomach let out a loud grumble as a sharp pain lanced my stomach.

“Sit at the table. I’ll get you some food, and then we’re taking care of that head of yours.”

She reminded me of a little worker bee in the way she flitted around the kitchen, going from one thing to the next as if she were buzzing around looking for nectar. A plate seemed to magically appear in front of me piled high with roast beef on fresh bread, with a generous salad on the side.

As soon as I took the first bite, I turned into a ravenous dog. I may not be able to remember the last time I ate or drank anything, but my body was telling me it had been a while. Dora sat down a glass of water and a pitcher to refill it, and I grabbed the water, chugging the first glass down before pouring another.

“Hold up there, boy, you’re going to make yourself sick.” Dora placed her hand on my shoulder, the act comforting and calming.

I forced myself to sit the glass down and took another bite of the delicious sandwich. Dora sat down across from me and picked up what I thought might be some kind of needlepoint needle. She was quiet as I ate, her hands steady as she poked the needle and thread through the material and back again as she slowly created her art piece.

“Can I have another?”

“Not yet. You may throw up what you just ate. Let’s see if it stays down first, and then you can have as many as you want. I also made lemon loaf and orange and cranberry cookies.”

Setting down her crafting supplies, Dora stood up, but instead of going for the baked goods, she headed over to a drawer in the kitchen, returning with a small white box with a red cross on it. She nodded toward the phone I had placed on the table.

“Do you want that thing charged?”

“Yeah, please.” I watched her as she picked up my phone and made her way over to a small table that held her phone to plug it in. “Why are you nice to me,” I blurted out as she slowly made her way back. “I’m not a nice person, Dora. You should run as far away as you can get.”

Her laugh was warm, her eyes teasing as she smiled at me. It was rare to have someone not be terrified of me, and yet this woman, who knew more about me than anyone else, seemed as content and comfortable as a cat lounging in the sun.

“And where exactly would I go, Derek?” She flipped open the lid of the first aid kit and began setting items out on the table. “This is my home, and I wouldn’t leave it even if I did have another place to go to. Second, I’m pretty sure that you’d hunt me down wherever I ran off to and kill me if I tried.”

She opened an antiseptic bottle and blotted some onto a square of gauze.

“Don’t give me that look. You know it’s true, and I know it’s true. This is going to sting.”