Page 31 of Ice Darling
My fingers grip the steering wheel hard enough to tear it clear out of the dashboard. Adrenaline courses through my heart, short-circuiting all rational thought and turning my foot to lead.
Harder on the gas pedal.
Tighter on the steering wheel.
It’s still not enough to regain a sense of control.
The park on my right becomes a kaleidoscope of greens and browns. The buildings on Main Street blur into unrecognizable blobs of brick and steel.
Nothing registers.
Nothing except the panic.
I have a vivid memory of Gordie burning up in her crib when she was eighteen months old. She’d been fussy all night, and I faithfully followed the doctor’s instructions, giving her the medicine he prescribed. But it wasn’t working. The symptoms were getting worse.
I remember bundling her up as tightly as I could and driving like mad to the hospital in the city. My heart flogged my chestthe entire way to the emergency room, and I didn’t dare to breathe until a doctor came to see her.
Pangs of that fear and helplessness carry through to this moment. The fact that the school secretary couldn’t describe Gordie’s ailment scares me.
Hold on, baby. I’m coming.
Just then, I see a flash of red-and-blue lights, and the chirp of a police siren fills the air. A look in my rearview mirror reveals Sheriff Kinsey’s truck.
Biting back a curse, I yank the steering wheel to the side and wait for Sheriff Kinsey to approach.
He pushes his sunshades up to the top of his head, his eyes wide. “Renthrow?” His voice rings with disbelief. “I recognized your vehicle, but I thought for sure someone had stolen it.”
“Sorry, Sherrif.” I tap my fingers on the steering wheel.
“This isn’t about apologies, Renthrow. Do you know what speed you were going? You or someone else could have gotten hurt. Now, what’s so urgent that you?—”
“It’s Gordie. The school called, saying something’s wrong.”
Tires screech behind me.
Sheriff Kinsey’s head lurches up, and he squints into the sunshine. Two of the three vehicles slow to a crawl behind mine. Gunner speeds up, and he stops his truck close to his father.
“Dad, he got a call that Gordie’s in trouble! He needs to move.”
Sheriff Kinsey clamps his hands on my window. “Did something happen at the school? Do I need to call the fire department?”
I shake my head. “They only mentioned Gordie in the call.”
Sheriff Kinsey’s nostrils flare. He picks up his walkie and mumbles into it.
A voice squawks back, “Understood, Sheriff.”
To me, Sheriff Kinsey says, “You can’t drive at those speeds…without an escort. Wait a moment. I’ll clear the way.”
I nod my thanks.
Sheriff Kinsey turns the loud, crooning sirens off, but he keeps his blue-and-red lights flashing as he drives. I take off the moment he does, barely allowing myself to breathe until I get to Gordie’s school.
Max, Gunner, Chance, and Sheriff Kinsey park behind me, but I’m already halfway up the stairs by the time they climb out of their cars.
I crash through the front doors and run pell-mell through the hallway. When I round the corner to Gordie’s classroom, I notice that almost all the kids are outside. Many of them are standing on tiptoes, trying to peer in through the window in the door.
My heart lurches to my throat, and I quicken my steps. “Excuse me. Excuse me.”
