Page 121 of Volatile Waters

As fire climbed up Mrs. Thompson’s legs, she howled in agony. The child reached out for me as I dove to catch him, but I was too late. He plummeted to the ground… and through it. The fire in the basement had eaten away at the floor, so it could not support the child. His screams were the worst sound I will ever hear in my whole entire life. And they were matched by his mother’s as she, on fire, fell forward and over the railing, into the open pit I was sure was meant for me.

It had all happened so fast; my mind literally could not comprehend it.

Lying on the ground, I couldn’t move. I simply froze in a horror I had never known, not even when I’d found my mother’s mutilated body. The fire was building and falling from above, but I held still, losing all my will to live. I wanted to stay and let the house burn me, too, but I was dragged up from the floor and out the front door, Harold patting my pants that were on fire.

He was coughing. “Did you see them? I can’t find them!”

I threw up… then coughed around the smoke in my lungs. Tears exploded from me as God punished me in the rawest way possible. I hadn’t even met the boy but felt a loss I could not compare. “They… fell. They’re gone!”

The expression of a man losing his last shred of hope and desire to live stood before me. “No! No! Nooooooooo!” Then he ran back toward the door he had just dragged me out of, but it was now engulfed by flames. The whole house, and the cherished lives inside, were an unfathomably gruesome loss.

The night was lit by orange flames. It was haunting. It was horrendous. It was a ghastly sight that I will never forget.

Harold and I, feeling the weight of every past crime we had committed, stood there and cried. Harold and I had been the leaders of horrific endeavors and were now paying, as we deserved. All the innocents in our lives were either dead or irrevocably altered.

Harold wailed in absolute agony, “I failed them. I failed them all.”

My lungs were struggling with smoke inhalation and debilitating heartache. “We. We both did.”

He screamed in the darkness that surrounded us, “She wanted Crash back home! Now, I can never give her that final wish!”

Divine intervention had me thinking of Whitney and what she had said about Valerie with the fire. “That’s how I would want it, so I could finally fly away.”

Snot dripped from my nose as I solemnly told Harold, “You can. I have him.”

Misery can be seen by the naked eye. I have seen it. It was present on Harold’s face as he thundered more screams into the dark, smoky skies. I left him to his moment of insanity because I understood he had the right to hate the world, himself, and me.

After collecting his son, I handed over his body.

Harold, with trembling arms, held Junior and cried, kissing the blue blanket smeared with dirt. “I was so bad to you. You were a good son. I should have let Marina take you and spare you from me.”

As I watched Harold pay for his every sin, I prayed I was doing right by the young man he was cradling, who had been so much wiser than I.

Once the time had come to say goodbye, forever, to the human form that no longer held life, and Harold had collected himself enough to do so, he held his son’s shoulders as I held his feet. With all the respect we could offer Crash, we stood in front of the fire. The heat burned our skin and hearts as we swung Crash’s body, back and forth, back and forth, both not wanting to let him go, yet building momentum to do so.

And then, as we wailed out the earth-shattering pain from our souls, we released Crash into the fire so his body could rest with the only mother he truly knew.

As the house and loved ones burned, I gazed up into the sky.

Fly away, Crash… Be free, my friend.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

When you have lost everything, there is nothing to be angry about. There is nothing left to fight for, nothing left to lose. Maybe that is why Harold had left everything behind, including his car, and asked for a ride to the airport. I obliged. On the way, and in between heart-wrenching tears, he explained how they hid Kaleb from me in fear of what would become of his life. There was no way I could blame him or Mrs. Thompson for the decision. I was just devastated that their efforts didn’t pay off.

There were more details I should have asked about, but it didn’t matter. Kaleb was gone. I had a son I would never know.

Where did Harold go? I don’t know. I didn’t ask. It wasn’t my business. But he did say he would try and live through the horror of so much loss in his life because he said he still had a son; Link.

Somehow, I understood that reasoning. I felt I had to live, too, even with the memory of watching my son and his mother dropping to their death in an unspeakable tragedy.

I didn’t leave Connecticut. I waited until Whitney returned home. I had to see her safe and make sure she stayed that way. Unfortunately, even though Harold was unaware who burned down his home, I wasn’t. I suspected my father had figured out I had a son. And, once Uncle learned of my betrayal, I believe they hired a hitman to kill him, believing I had been hiding Kaleb. Now that Father and Uncle were both dead, Whitney should be safe, but I was taking no chances. Did Father and Uncle suspect I would run with her? Was a hitman watching her? He wouldn’t have found her in Hawaii, where Mr. Jones and I had her hidden away, but a hitman would definitely find her in Connecticut.

About three weeks after the death of my son, Whitney finally found her way home, and to Link. Standing in the woods, it was bittersweet to watch her walk down her boat dock, where so many fond and tragic memories had been made.

Link, sitting on his own dock across the lake, had yet to notice her. Whitney’s hair was shorter now but still beautiful in its untamed way. She hadn’t gained much weight back. I hoped she would learn to eat on her own again, someday.

Maybe it was her sundress blowing in the wind that finally got Link’s attention, but as soon as he saw her, he slowly stood up as if not trusting his eyes. They had a short conversation, Whitney revealing she’d realized her love for him all along. Jealousy faded away when I saw how much he loved her, too, and hope filled my aching heart knowing he would give every part of himself to help her get over everything I had done to her.