Page 134 of Lotus

Firetrucks approach the scene, the red and blue lights reminiscent of a day that will never be far from my mind. My arms are puckered and bright pink, part of my hair is singed straight off, and the side of my face feels like it’s melting. But I don’t care, I don’t even care, because my two favorite people are trapped inside a burning building and I’m out here.

“Oh,God,” I mourn, collapsing back against the cement, staring up at the starry sky. “Please, I beg you. Just one more wish. Please, please,please.”

I wait.

It’s a slow-motion movie reel as neighbors run from their houses for a front-row seat and Lorna Gibson crouches beside me with Alexis tucked inside her arms. Firetrucks and police cruisers come to a halt along the side of the street, men in uniform filtering out of the vehicles with hoses and heat-protectant suits and mouths moving with mute words I can’t even begin to process. Everything sounds far away; underwater.

All I can see is the stars.

All I can hear is my wish repeating inside of my head, over and over and over.

“Oh, Sydney… look.”

Lorna’s voice causes me to blink myself back to the present moment, and I pull myself up on my elbows, letting out an ugly fucking cry of joy when both Oliver and Gabe come stumbling out my front door, layered in ashes and soot with burns on their skin.

They’re alive.

My body is too weak to stand, so I just lie there and wail, my soul sobbing with overwhelming, unparalleled relief. My boys fall beside me on the concrete walkway, Gabe at my side and Oliver in my arms. I roll us over until I’m holding them both, squeezing them with everything I have left. Our tears mingle together—a hymn, a song, a miraculous melody.

The medics approach while firefighters swoop past us into the house, but I can’t let these men go, and I can’t stop crying.

“Thank you,” I croak, my face buried between the two men’s chests. Oliver kisses my hair, his fingers tangled in the knotted strands, while Gabe reaches for my hand and holds tight. I look up to the sky. “Thank you, thank you,thank you.”

T H I R T Y

THE FAMILIAR SOUND OF ZIPPER AND PLASTICpulls my chin from my chest as I set aside my comic sketches and face the man in front of me. Bradford takes his mask off, peering down at me sitting in the corner with my knees drawn up. “Are you fetching more supplies today?” I wonder aloud, rising to my feet and observing the subtle luster of sweat dampening his hairline.

Bradford is older now, like me, and his forehead showcases faint age lines, while his dark hair reveals traces of silvers and grays. He ruffles a large palm through that hair, advancing on me, mask tucked beneath his arm. “Yeah, kid. I’ll try to find some ingredients for a nice cake—it’s your birthday, after all.”

This morning I awoke, and I was eighteen. I’m officially a man.

“I would appreciate that greatly,” I tell him, excitement revving through me, pulse quickening. I can hardly recall the taste of birthday cake, but my tastebuds still water at the thought of it. Pacing a few steps towards my guardian, another query tickles my tongue. “Bradford, I… I think, perhaps, I should come with you on your journey today. Seeing as I’m an adult now, I’m more apt to be of service to you.”

My rapid heartbeats meet the pained look in his umber eyes. “Oliver, you know I can’t let you out into the world. It’s not safe. You wouldn’t even recognize it anymore.”

“I’m a fast learner,” I insist, pressing further. I close in on him, a hint of desperation seeping into my tone. “Please, give me the chance to prove I am capable.”

“It’s not…” Bradford averts his gaze to the corner of the room, illuminated by my Vitamin D lamp lighting up the cement walls decorated in magazine clippings and comic book illustrations. Two potted plants adorn the space, along with stacks of books and video tapes. He sighs, strained and weary. “You don’t understand. I can’t protect you up there.”

“I’m quite strong, Bradford. I’ve been focusing on my exercises. Please, lend me your protective gear and I’ll make you proud.”

“I can’t do that, kid,” he shakes his head, struggling through a mask of confliction. “You’re all I’ve got. Keeping you out of harm’s way is the only thing I’m good for anymore…”

His words pinch my heart. “I’ll come back. You know I wouldn’t leave you. You’re all I have as well.”

“Maybe one day, Oliver. Maybe one day it will be safe for you out there, but today is not that day,” Bradford explains, his expression taut. “You’re like a son to me, kid. You’re special… you’re important.”

“Like the Black Lotus?”

“Yeah,” he swallows, head nodding slowly. “Like the Black Lotus.”

He’s right. I have no idea how the world works anymore, let alone where I’d go or how I’d navigate through the threats and unknowns. If something happened to me, Bradford would be all alone and I couldn’t do that to him. My shoulders sag with resignation, my lips thinning. “Yes. I suppose you’re right.”

“It’s for the best,” he whispers, gaze now lowered to the green rug beneath his boots. “But I’ll bring you back that birthday cake, yeah?”

I clear the disappointment from my throat. “Thank you. I would enjoy that.”

“And hey, one more thing…” Bradford pulls the zipper of his suit down a bit farther, then plucks two brown cigars from his pocket. Contemplation settles along his fine lines and wrinkles as he studies them and hands one over to me. “You know, I always looked forward to the day I could share a cigar with my boy, Tommy. I told myself I’d allow him one the day he turned eighteen.”

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