Fire Solves All Problems Perfectly pt 52

Billy, Grandpa Jim says, his voice coming out of the dark. Billy, come here.

Everybody freezes. Sometimes it isn’t too bad; sometimes it’s very bad.

Look out, Billy. The bottle falls out of Grandpa’s hand and hits the ground, tipping over, the liquid pouring out, looking like dog blood in the light of the fire.

Dad? Uncle Jeff puts his hand on his shoulder. Dad, wake up.

Grandpa’s eyes open and he grabs Uncle Jeff’s arms; he looks like his eyes are going to roll right out of his head. Look out, Billy! The train’s coming!

Dad, it’s me. Uncle Jeff gets himself free and gave Grandpa a shake. WAKE UP!

Aunt Linda has an arm around Stevie and Jamie; she sends Uncle Steve over to help Jeff, and while they get Grandpa out of his chair he keeps yelling for Billy, saying the train is coming and please don’t die, please don’t die.

What’s wrong with Grandpa? your brother whispers to you.

His little brother got killed by a train when he was a kid, you say.

Your father overhears. Who told you that? he asks.

Uncle Steve and Uncle Jeff are pushing Grandpa through the door of his cabin.

Mom, you say. She said that’s why I got to watch Dillon when he’s playing outside.

Well, you father says, she oughta keep her mouth shut.

It wasn’t her, you say quickly, it was me, she didn’t say that.

But it’s too late; your father goes to help his brother, all three of them carrying yoru grandfather to his bed. The lantern comes on inside the cabin, making shadows that jump all over the place.

Listen, your father says to you and your brother later. If Grandpa gives you something to drink, don’t ever take it. You understand me?

You say yes, and Dillon says yes. Your father’s eyes are full of fire.

When everybody is talking and laughing again, sitting around the fire and roasting marshmallows, you sneak around to the back of the cabin where there’s a window slid half open. Inside the lantern is turned down low; it has moths flapping around you’re your grandfather is sleeping on his cot, his mouth open, moaning softly.

Grandpa? You reach in the window, straining, and tap your fingers on his shoulder.

He snorts and looks up at you, his eyes cloudy, and wet and red. Danny? he gasps. His rough hand grabs yours for just a second. Danny, watch out for the train.

Goosebumps raise on your skin. I will, you whisper.

You lean over and throw up hot dogs and candy bars.

You make it out of the bushes and out into the clearing, stumbling towards the fire your father is putting out; it FWOOMPs when he dumps water on it, smoke boiling over to fill up the night. You tell him you got sick and he sees it on your shirt. Don’t make me have to come looking for you, he says. When I call you better come running.

Uncle Steve and Uncle Jeff have the flashlights, and they lead the way down to the boats. You crawl to a seat near the middle, your family nothing but strobing flashes of faces around you. The engine coughs and chokes and starts, and then you’re hovering in space, the stars overhead and all around you, and down by your feet too, soaking through your shoes along with the cold water that’s leaking in.

The lantern light in the cabin is hanging in the air, getting smaller and smaller until it looks like the rest of the stars, like it’s one of them that’s fallen down to earth.

I’ll go back tomorrow to check on him, they say.

It’s so dark your eyes won’t get used to it; but that’s fine, you like the way you’re pushed into everybody, so tight that you couldn’t fall out no matter what.

Goodnight Grandpa, Tony calls out, and Aunt Brenda tells him to be quiet.