“What do you know about getting the ladies? You’re ten.”
“I know things. And you didn’t answer the question.”
“I’ve always liked Wonder Woman. There’s something awesome about Amazonian women. And an invisible jet would be baller, as you like to say.”
“I can respect that.”
Sanna finished her apple, flung the core under the trees, and tilted her head back to enjoy the sun. It was that kind of perfect late August day when the sun warmed your skin, but the air had a hint of the coming fall. Grasshoppers hopped in the long, dry grass, and the air smelled of sweet apples, dry earth, and smoke.
Smoke.
Smoke?
She looked around. They weren’t far from the back of the property, by the guest trailer, and an oily black plume wound its way into the sky. What was happening? They were close enough that she could see some of the trailer’s siding between the trees. She jumped up and sprinted with Bass close on her heels, but not for long. Her long legs covered the ground in gazelle-like strides, tree branches smacking her arms as she cut across the rows, then stopped dead in her tracks. Smoke billowed from the trailer’s right side where the living room was. As Bass arrived, he kept running toward the front door, but Sanna grabbed him by the scruff of the shirt.
“You can’t go in there.”
His wide eyes flicked between her and the trailer.
“I have to get Snarf.”
“You are not going in there.” She kept a firm grip on his shirt. “What’s a snarf?”
“It’s my stuffed animal. A green dragon.”
Flames flicked above the roofline. Everything rational in her brain said going into a burning building for a stuffed animal would result in certain doom. She looked down at Bass, tears brimming in his eyes, and he whimpered before making another move to the door.
Sanna pulled him back again. She needed to move fast.
“Where is it?”
“On the bed.”
“Anything else important?”
He shook his head.
“Stay put, do you hear me? I can’t do this if I have to worry you followed me in.”
He nodded solemnly, tears streaming down his face.
Sanna took a deep breath and ran into the trailer. Smoke slapped at her face and she dropped to crawl on her hands and knees. Flames engulfed the couch and licked at the walls, moving in angry red tails toward the kitchen. Tears formed to wash the stinging smoke out of her eyes, but they dried almost as quickly with the heat intensifying in the small building. She saw Bass’s iPad on the table and a small stack of chargers and books. Leaving them for lost, she turned to the left.
She didn’t have much time before she’d be trapped—smoke burned her nose as she tried to breathe. She skittered into the bedroom and shut the door to minimize the smoke, grabbing the duffel bag strap from where it poked out under the bed. Luckily, the green stuffed dragon sat in the middle of the perfectly made comforter. She stuffed it in the bag. Books, toys, and other assorted items took over the surface of the dresser, she scooped them in, too, then opened the top drawer and crammed in as much as she could. Everything else would have to burn.
She grabbed the doorknob, then flinched back from the scald as if she’d clutched the handle of a cast-iron skillet on high heat. A blister formed where her skin touched the knob. Black, acrid smoke seeped under the door. She couldn’t go out the way she came. For a moment, panic blanked out her mind. She was going to die. Shaking off the thought, she turned and looked at the window over the bed. She looked for something to break the window, then realized only a screen stood between her and safety—smoke already twisted its way to freedom, choking her along the way. Using the now-heavy duffel bag as a battering ram, she knocked out the screen, then clambered out behind it. She turned to see flames lick under the bottom of the door, up the doorframe, and across the ceiling. Soon the entire trailer would be lost. She grabbed the duffel and headed for the trees and safety.
“Did you get him?” Bass said, his face coated in soot like her own.
Sanna could only nod. Her heart raced and her throat burned from the smoke. She couldn’t believe she’d done something so stupid—especially for a stuffed animal. Bass dumped out the bag, baseball cards, deodorant, and underwear forming a mountain. At the top sat the dragon, like Smaug on his treasure trove, along with some papers that must have been crushed at the bottom. He grabbed Snarf and hugged him tight.
She pulled her bandana from her back pocket and wiped the tears now streaming from her eyes—without the heat to dry them, they flowed unabated and she couldn’t stop coughing. The sun still shone, the grasshoppers still hopped, and a gentle breeze began to pull the papers, so Sanna caught them before they blew away. Her mind struggled to reconcile the black smoke and blistering heat with the beautiful day around her.
She looked at the papers in her hands. One was a letter from Bass to his mother that hadn’t made the journey home yet. The last, though, made her stomach drop. She covered her mouth with her sooty hand, adding this information to every conversation she’d had with Isaac over the past couple of months. Her heart broke for Bass.
“What is it?” he asked.
Her sadness was quickly replaced by anger at the man who could lie to this sweet little boy, clutching his stuffed dragon.
“I . . . You’ll have to ask your dad.”
Isaac and her dad arrived on the ATV. Isaac barely let the vehicle stop before running to Bass and pulling him into his arms. His normally heartwarming worry for Bass was tainted with the truth she now knew.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” he asked when he finally let go, searching him for any signs of injury.
“I’m fine. But Sanna said I’m supposed to ask you about something in the duffel bag?”
Isaac looked up at Sanna, and she stiffly handed him the paper and saw his eyes light in recognition, then the light disappear as his lie died. He held the paper to his chest and closed his eyes. Would he try to get out of telling Bass the truth? But when he opened his eyes, Sanna saw his resolve. At least he was making the right choice now.
Isaac knelt in front of Bass, holding both of his shoulders.
“I haven’t told you everything that’s been going on with your mom, Bass. She . . . she . . .”
He looked up at her for support, but Sanna had none to give him. He’d created this mess, he could get himself out of it. Her only concern was for Bass. He continued.
“She died. Right before we left for our trip. That’s why we went on our trip, I—I didn’t know how to tell you. I wanted you to have one last summer being little. I didn’t want you to have to grow up so soon.”
He handed the paper—Paige’s death certificate—to Bass, who stood still, absorbing the words, clutching the paper. Sanna could see his world crumbling and readied herself to do whatever he needed, all concerns about her orchard or the fire didn’t matter—only this little boy did.