Page 27 of Shadows in Bloom

Justice’s face looks sad, and big wet tears fall down his freckly cheeks. When Justice is sad or crying, my head tells me to remember the pictures of fire, and Mum’s lighter in my schoolbag, and I get angry again.

I reach out and grab the chain of the swing and pull it very hard.

The swing spins a little and makes Miles go from side to side. He puts his feet down so he doesn’t fall. “Stop it, Sal,” he shouts at me.

“Stop it, Sal. Stop it, Sal,” I shout.

When Miles laughs, I shake my head and squeeze my eyes shut to tell my stupid brain to shut up.

“Stupid!” Miles jumps up and down and points at me. “Sal is stupid, Sal is stupid.”

“Sal is Stupid, Sal is stupid, Sal is stupid.” The words won’t stop coming out, and the angry feelings make my head and my stomach hurt. My whole body gets hot like fire. I feel like Mum’s lighter is in my hand and I flick my thumb like I’m lighting it up.

“That’s mean,” Justice says. “Miss Tanner said you gotta be nice ‘cos Sal can’t help it.”

Miles laughs and jumps forward, then he pushes Justice onto the grass. Justice falls over and lands on his bottom. When he cries, all the angry feelings get worse, and I push Miles over and jump on top of him. I hit his face and his mouth and his head, and when he’s screaming and crying, my mouth copies all the sounds he’s making.

“Don’t touch Justice!” I shout at him. “Don’t touch Justice!”

“Salvatore!” Mr Bennett’s loud voice shouts. Mr Bennett is the principal of our school, and sometimes, when I do bad stuff, he makes me sit in his office and I don’t get to see Justice.

My hands keep hitting Miles, even when I don’t want to, and even when Mr Bennett yells at me, and even when his big, strong hands pick me up and pull me away from Miles.

Five days later

“Hello, Salvatore, how are you feeling today?”

I kick my legs out, swinging them off the end of the bed while I watch Doctor Hart look at the papers in his folder. “Justice. Justice. Justice. Where’s Justice?” I ask. “How are you feeling today?” I hit my head with my hand to make it stop copying Doctor Hart. “I wanna go home.”

“I’m sorry, Sal, but you can’t go home yet. We need to talk about what happened at school. Can you tell me about the fire?” Doctor Hart asks.

I shrug. “Can you tell me about the fire?” I nod and shake my hands. “There was a fire. Some of the kids got killed. Not Justice. Not Justice.” My legs keep kicking and I smack my knees with my hands to make them stop.

Doctor Hart writes on a piece of paper. “That’s right, Justice didn’t get hurt.” He looks up at me again. “Do you know how the fire started?” he asks.

I look at his face, and make my face look the same. “Do you know how the fire started?”

“No, I don’t,” he says. When his forehead gets little wrinkles across it, I scrunch up my eyes like Doctor Hart and press my finger into my forehead, trying to feel the little lines, but there’s nothing there. Doctor Hart clears his throat, and I copy him. Then he says, “It looks like the fire started in the paper storage room. Someone locked the door and trapped the students and Miss Tanner inside.”

I open my mouth and eyes very wide, like when Miss Tanner was staring at me through the little square window. She was banging on the door and screaming, and lots of flames and smoke were swishing around her.

Doctor Hart reaches out and pats his hand on my knee. “Can you tell me how they got trapped, Salvatore?”

“Can you tell me how they got trapped, Salvatore?” I nod. “I think someone closed the door and locked it with the key. Look at my hand,” I say, and I hold out my hand that’s covered in a white bandage.

“I see your hand. It must be very sore. Can you tell me how your hand got burned?”

I shrug. “My hand got burned. The handle was hot.”

When he tilts his head to the side, I do the same thing. He writes something on his paper, then looks up at me again. “Salvatore, can you tell me why you told Justice to get out of the classroom?”

“Justice. Justice, get out.” I smile. “Justice is scared of fire.” I shake my head. “He doesn’t like it.” I put my arm out to show Doctor Hart my smooth skin. “Justice has scars here,” I say, swirling my fingers all around my arm. “Justice is very good. He always lets me copy him.”

“How does he let you copy him?” he asks.

“I copy his face, and I copy his talking all the time. He doesn’t say stop it, stop it, stop it, Sal.” I laugh like Justice does, then I put my hands on my face to feel my cheeks and my eyes. I can feel my face move when I smile, and when I stop smiling, it feels different. “I can copy you too,” I say to Doctor Hart. “Sometimes I copy people when my head doesn’t tell me to.” I sit up straight and cross my legs like Doctor Hart.

Doctor Hart nods. “Yes, I know. You’re very smart, Sal. Now, let’s talk about the fire again. Can you tell me how it started?”

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