Page 21 of Chasing Fireflies

I laugh. “She threw moldy bread at him?” Cash grins at me.

“Yep, you ready to go?”

“Yes. Anne, thank you for the coffee. It was the best I’ve had.”

“Oh, I’m happy you liked it.” She beams and takes the empty cup from me. “I hope to see you again. Let me know if I need to come get my hands dirty.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

*

“Remember when you were seventeen and got busted for climbing the water tower?”

“Yes,” I say, remembering back to what seems like a lifetime ago. “First time I was ever in a cop car.”

“But not the last,” Cash says as we head toward our place.

“No, not the last.” I roll down my window and let the summer breeze blow through my wild curls. As I look out at all the farmland, my mind drifts back to too many Solo cups and a reckless night.

*

“I’m not going to get caught,” I tell Cash.

“Baby, I don’t care about you getting caught. Well, I do, but I care more about you getting hurt.”

“Oh, don’t be such a worrywart. You sound like my mama,” I throw back at him as I take the last sip of my beer and toss my cup to the side. My hands touch cold iron, and I grip onto the bars as I lift my feet off the ground. I shift my hands and grab onto another bar. Lifting my feet again, I begin to climb the tall tower. I look back down as Cash gets smaller and smaller, and soon he is so small I can’t even see the redness in his eyes from too many beers. My hair moves off of my shoulder as a cooler than normal summertime wind moves through it and brushes it across my face. I inhale deeply and keep going. I feel the sway of the tower the higher I get, and I can’t help but think this is freedom.

There’s something about being in control of your own life. I’m never in control of my mind, but at this moment I hold the power. If I release the bars, I probably wouldn’t even feel the impact. I make it to the top and step onto the platform. Spreading my arms wide, I close my eyes, and a strong urge passes through me to let go, jump.It’ll feel like flying, my mind says, but falling only feels like flying until you hit the ground. I look down when I see blue lights.

“Oh shit, Mama is going to be pissed.”

Chapter Seven

Cash

I stretch my arm across the bed, feeling for Sara. My eyes shoot open when I realize she isn’t here, and like always my heart picks up beats. I sit up, running a hand over my face, and toss the covers off. I look toward the bathroom and see the light isn’t on behind the closed door. She isn’t there either.

“Sara,” I call out, but no response. I get up, and when I open the door, I hear music. As I make my way downstairs, light blinds me and I have to shield my eyes. Almost every light in the house is on. “Sara?” Still no answer. I continue down the steps and round the corner. Sara is on her hands and knees scrubbing the kitchen floor. Wearing old sweats and a T-shirt that’s tied up on the side, she sings along to the music, and I see sweat running down her face. “Sara, what the hell are you doing?” She still doesn’t hear me and obviously doesn’t realize I’m up. I walk over and stop the record player. She falls back.

“Shit, Cash.” Her hand comes to her heart, and she sits on her butt. “You scared the piss out of me.” She tosses her dirty towel into the bucket, and I move out of the way as water splashes onto the floor. “I’m sorry. Was the music too loud?”

“What are you doing? It’s four in the morning.”

She puffs a fallen piece of hair out of her face. “This floor is super dirty,” she says, waving her hand at it. “And so is the rest of the house… well, was…” She looks over the hardwood and shrugs.

“So, you clean it now?” I look at her like she has lost it, and maybe this time she has.

“I can’t freaking sleep. I tossed and turned for two hours, and then I remembered how I wanted to clean the floors, and then I said I might as well clean the cabinets, too.”

I look up and see all the plates and glasses sitting out on the counter.

“Sara, this is crazy. You’re going to feel like shit later today.”

“No, I’m good. I’m really good,” she says, grabbing her towel back out of her bucket and wringing it out. She gets back on her knees and continues scrubbing.

“But you haven’t slept.”

“I’m telling you, Cash. I feel great. I’m just going to get the house ready for later. We won’t have to clean a thing.” I stare down at her as she wrings out her towel again and does a wax on, wax off motion.

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