Page 58 of High Velocity

“Ma, it’s fine,” I reassure her. “I need to go find Stephanie.”

I watch as Jonas approaches a group of firefighters and see one of them point toward the creek. Wobbling a little on the ill-fitting limb but going as fast as I can, I set off in that direction.

It’s surprising, with all the commotion around the trailer, how quiet and peaceful it is back here. The moon is out, reflecting its silver light off the water, and any noise from the scene I left behind fades into the background.

But I don’t see Stephanie.

At least, not immediately.

A sharp bark draws my attention to a rocky outcropping jutting into the water to my right, where the creek makes a sharp bend. I see her then, sitting with her feet dangling in the water, Ash standing guard by her side.

It’s tough going on the uneven ground on one bare foot and one unstable prosthetic, but I make it over to the rock. As Ash comes up to greet me, I notice Stephanie is still staring out at the water. I sink down beside her.

“I burned down JD’s trailer,” she mumbles without looking at me.

“Why do you say that?”

“I left the candle burning in the kitchen.”

The candle she talks about is a small tea light on the kitchen counter she lit before we sat down to watch TV.

“No, you didn’t. I looked over when we went to bed and it had burned out.”

It’s not until I drape an arm around her shoulders and pull her close, that she turns her face up to me. Tear streaks cut through the soot on her face and her eyes shimmer with unshed ones.

“I don’t know what happened—I’m sure we’ll know more once the fire inspector gets here—but it wasn’t a burning candle.”

She nods and I brush some hair out of her eyes before grabbing the edge of the shirt I was wearing today, and wipe some of the wet dirt off her face.

“I can’t believe everything is gone. JD’s trailer, everything I brought with me, my laptop…” She chokes out a half laugh, half sob. “Even my Honda. Did you see?”

I did see. It must’ve been when the roof caved in the burning debris fell onto her SUV, because there wasn’t much left of it either. My truck, which was parked back a bit, received a little heat damage, but other than that—and of course, the four slashed tires—it seems to have survived.

“It’s stuff. You can get other stuff. I’m sure JD is insured, plus, he took his most important belongings with him when he moved in with Janey. He’ll be fine.”

She shakes her head and turns back to the water.

“It’s not all just stuff. Some of it was irreplaceable.”

“Like what?” I gently probe her.

“My mom’s hairbrush,” she whispers. “After all these years, I can still smell her shampoo. Or maybe that’s just my imagination, but it was the only tangible thing I had left of her.”

Stephanie

“Come with me.”

I’m abruptly pulled to my feet and almost dragged back toward the emergency vehicles.

“What are we doing?”

But I don’t get an answer as Jackson pulls me along, aiming for the south side of the trailer. The one side still standing, albeit minus a roof. The side of the bedroom were we narrowly escaped through the window.

“There,” he says triumphantly.

He’s pointing at what looks like a pile of dirty laundry, but is in fact the sheet he tossed out the bedroom window with some clothes wrapped inside. When he picks up a corner and shakes it out, several items come tumbling out. A bottle of moisturizer, a half-squeezed tube of toothpaste, the charger for my phone, a pair of my panties, and…my mother’s brush.

“I couldn’t see, I just grabbed what was there. But I remember something felt like a hairbrush,” he explains.

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