Vein Fire (20 page)

CHAPTER  32

Rules  of  Rulers

Jared returned to the group home Monday morning after having spent the entire night with Hannah. Sleep would have been a waste of time. When she wasn’t awake receiving him, he watched her sleep and explored her body. The futility he felt in counting her scars was because even her scars had scars, or he could not determine where one ended and another began. Jared didn’t mind them. He didn’t see the ugliness behind the result, only the tension of oppression and freedom trying to occupy the same space.

Even if she was the first girl his age to have sex with him, their lovemaking was more of a melting experience. Where Hannah stopped, Jared began until their outlines smeared into one entity. Being with her was an exploration of his soul and the depths of feelings she had awakened in him. He didn’t doubt she was destined to be his little bird and he put aside planning what to do if she was not. In the end, before it happened, he would decide her fate if she did not fly.

*

The last block of sidewalk cement caught the sunlight in pixelating gleams, mesmerizing him. He was nearly to the group home when he noticed his mother’s Lincoln parked in front. The thought of his monthly allowance coming early made him smile. Bounding up the stairs two at a time, he first encountered Pamela, the house supervisor.

“Where have you been? You’ve been gone all night.” She whispered it so forcibly between clenched teeth that spit sprayed into the air.

Jared ignored her and breezed into the house with the confidence of a thoroughly fucked man about to receive a lump sum of money. Taking his coat off in the foyer, he contemplated telling his mother about Hannah. The remains of this idea kept the corners of his mouth turned upwards as he entered the living room.

His mother sat on the couch and beside her was her lawyer, Mr. Davis. A woman in a short gray dress suit stood up from a corner chair when he entered the room. “Hello, Jared. My name is MaryAnn. I’m with the county crisis intervention unit. We’re all here because we’d like to talk to you.”

“What is this shit?” he blurted. His mother looked frail, her blonde hair pinned into a ne
at twist and her thin frame seemed bony. Even in the summer, she wore sweaters to ward off her eternal chills. “You too? You’re in on this?” She began to cry, choking into an overused tissue.

Mr. Davis gave one smart pat to Jared’s mother’s left knee before he stood and spoke. “I’m afraid we can’t let you leave. I’m here because the police have a warrant for your arrest. They’ll arrive shortly. I’m sure Miss Pamela has already called them.”

“Police?” Jared guffawed. “What for?”

“They recovered your fingerprints from an arson scene which occurred a few weeks ago. They want to ask you some questions.” Jared started to speak, but Mr. Davis raised his index finger into the air and continued to speak. “As your lawyer, I advise you not to comment on the incident. We are all here to help you. I want you to talk to MaryAnn so we can find out if she can improve your predicament or not.”

“This is bullshit. I didn’t do anything.” Jared yelled. The seriousness of the scene was starting to creep upon him, as well as the unfamiliar choke of panic.

MaryAnn took a step forward, “Jared, can we please talk?”

His backpack slid to the floor and he sat beside it. With closed eyes, he spoke, “What do you want?”

Social workers were the most uninteresting creatures to Jared. His mind ran circles around their predictable thoughts and lists of ulterior motive-stuffed questions. Digging information out of him only went as far as he wanted it to.
Murdering Danny at the State Hospital remained a felony on his record, despite his age when it happened. Because of this, the state police had a record of his fingerprints. As soon as Jared remembered this and started thinking back to what Matt had mentioned, the fear of charred fingerprints being likely evidence clicked in Jared’s head and he began answering the questions in ways which would benefit him. He wore his mask of insanity as more than a label—it was a part of him and he saw it as something that walked a path for the greater good. It took him parallel to destiny’s trail and smelled like the hair of a girl who could fly.

Amidst the blur of questions, Jared pulled out of his own thoughts. “You’re right; I haven’t been taking my medication. In fact, I don’t even remember the last time I took them.”

Everyone sighed and sat back in their seats with a “that explains it all” attitude. Some of the group home staff allowed smug smiles to sneak upon their faces as the police walked up the porch stairs. The two officers squeaked in the confinement of their polyester uniforms and leather accessories when they entered the living room.

The larger officer nodded towards Jared. “You Jared?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, stand up.” The officer wagged his fingertips at him as Jared got up from the floor. “Turn around…put your hands behind your back…you’re under arrest for arson…”

Jared cooperated, but allowed a laugh to run scales up and down—out from his chest. Everyone played their role well. The police were indifferent and business-like. MaryAnn was quick to give her recommendation for immediate transport to the local emergency room. Jared’s mother kneaded her thin fingers around the tattered tissue they held, and Mr. Davis stood at his lawyer-sentinel post, awaiting the next step.

It wasn’t the first time Jared was in the backseat of a police cruiser. The plastic seats offered no resistance as he slid from side to side with the motion of the car. The hospital came into sight and Jared laughed more, shaking his head. After spending most of his childhood in a state hospital, he knew a local hospital would not be prepared to deal with him.

CHAPTER
  33

Clean

Hannah rode the elevator at City Hall for the third time since she arrived. Going downstairs to face Donna still wasn’t an option until the drugs swept everything aside for her. They had worked together many times since the incident with Bob, but Hannah wasn’t one to hide her feelings very well and she didn’t want Donna to read about Bob’s infidelity in the twitches of her face. Since she missed the past two weeks because of her broken arm, seeing Donna after such a long time was like starting at the beginning again.

The elevator’s certificate of operation had smeared dates behind its display of foggy plastic. Hannah squinted at it as the cables coughed and sneezed her up to the roof. She rolled her eyes at the thought of the elevator cable snapping; she wasn’t afraid to die. There was no better way to relax in a building packed with disgruntled employees and tax payers. Each corner of the building was adorned by a medium sized, carved stone gargoyle. In her head, Hannah had named each one—Pernaticus, Hector, Salazar, and Frank. As she walked around on the roof, she would rub their heads and wonder out loud to them about things they didn’t remark upon. This ritual, like others Hannah performed, seemed to calm her. Eventually, she was able to descend the stairs into the basement and greet Donna.

“Oh my God! Your poor arm. And that happened from a slip in the shower? You need to be more careful!” Donna gushed.

To maintain her calm, Hannah fixated on Donna’s overbite and her semi-yellowing teeth. “I know—I can be so clumsy.”

“Oh, honey, I feel so bad for you. How are you even able to work with a broken arm?” Donna shook her head. Hannah wondered if she did so in expectation that she would explain how she couldn’t really work.

“Well, what we do isn’t hard. I’m sure I can manage. The doctor told me the two weeks off was enough and the swelling’s gone down.”

“I don’t want you lifting anything! Just work with the boxes you have over on your side and if you need more, I’ll move them over for you.”

“Thanks…” Hannah started to talk, but Donna threw her arms around her in an unexpected hug.

“I’ve been so worried about you, Hannah.” Hannah returned the hug with a reluctant pat on the back with her good arm.

“Thank you.” Hannah pulled away. “I really appreciate the help you always give me. I do have to get a jump on all of this filing I’ve fallen behind on. I’ve missed a lot of work these past few weeks.” Hannah froze her face in a slight smile.

Most of the time they worked in silence, but kept a radio playing. Sometimes a song would come on and Donna would sing along, but Hannah kept to herself in her quiet section, sorting files folders. Anytime Donna wanted to make small-talk, she yelled across the room to Hannah. The only time they whispered was when they gossiped.

“Hey—I almost forgot because I haven’t seen you in so long—Bob and I are having another party this Saturday. We both plan on you being there.”

Hannah stopped her sorting and focused on the label of the manila folder, ‘Zone 23-1489 Water Permit’. “Oh really?” she called across the room.

“Yeah, a barbeque in the afternoon, then we’ll have a bonfire—you comin’, right?”

“I wouldn’t miss it.” Hannah mustered up a fake smile which Donna returned with a real one.

“Great, Bob will be so happy to see you. He keeps asking when you’re going out to lunch with us again.”

Hannah continued to focus on the label. “I’m sorry, really I am. I have a doctor’s appointment on Friday, so I can’t go.”

“That’s okay; Bob is coming to take us today.”

Hannah froze. “Uhh…I didn’t plan on eating lunch today. I have to go home to make a few phone calls to my doctor over our break.”

“Aww…Bob will be disappointed. But why don’t you make the phone calls from here?”

“I guess I could, but…well, you know what the lack of privacy is like around here.”

“Just call from my desk. I’ll be gone and no one ever comes down.”

“Maybe I will.”

Footsteps slowly came down to their level. Hannah assumed it was one of the other secretaries with a list of files they needed. She should have known by the heavy footfalls—it was Bob.

“Bob! What are you doing here?” Donna jumped up from her work area.

“I finished
sooner than I expected so I thought I’d pick you girls up for an early lunch.” Bob smiled at Hannah. She sat in a corner of her section on a rolling stool with a stack of files on her lap.

“Oh! Hannah can’t come. But let me run and go pee real quick and then we’ll go. I didn’t expect you this early!”

Bob swatted Donna on her ass as she ran past him in her high heeled-shuffle run. He watched her go up the steps and as soon as she cleared the landing, his head turned towards Hannah.

“Where ‘ya been?” He took two steps towards her.

Hannah froze; there wasn’t even an expression on her face. “I’ve been here and there.” Bob came three steps closer. Hannah stood up. Bob kept approaching. She stepped backwards into the wall and Bob was upon her.

“Did Donna tell you about the cookout we’re havin’?” Hannah nodded. Bob reached his hand out and slid it under the fabric of Hannah’s skirt. His fingers walked to her crotch as he struggled against the pulled fabric of her tights. He groped her hard, grabbing in the same rhythm as her kettle-drum heart. “Maybe we can pick up where things left off…sneak away during the picnic and have some real fun in the woods.”      

Bob gave up playing on the outside of her tights and dove his hand between her waistband and her hip bone, working sideways until his greedy fingers plunged into her so fiercely, it was as though he was trying to lift her off of the ground with one hand. The sound of Donna’s wooden heels descended the stairs, and Hannah pushed Bob away from her, the elastic on her tights making a loud snap as she scrambled to move quickly.

Donna hit the bottom step and smiled at Bob, “Ya ready?” He nodded and started walking towards Donna. “See ya, Hannah. Do you want me to bring anything back?”

The crack in her voice came first, and then she cleared her throat, “No thanks.”

Alone. Always alone. Hannah paced, choking back garbled phlegm and tears as her hands held her head, and then smacked to her sides repeatedly. She ran up the steps to the elevator and hit the button for the top floor over and over again until she rose inside of the stone building’s belly. 

The gargoyle brothers waited for her, and so did the edge. Jumping was a temptation she didn’t trust herself with. Half way through her climb up to it, she gave up and slid down, crying against the stone wall for several minutes until she finally dried her eyes on her skirt and returned to the basement of City Hall.

Sitting at Donna’s desk, she removed a white business card from her purse. The number of the women’s clinic was printed on the front. Just as she had done when she was a teenager, Hannah inhaled quickly several times, but this was only to calm herself down. After her last breath in, she held it and dialed the number, exhaling after she heard the phone ring. Hannah anticipated the same annoying receptionist to answer, but she had been patched through to the nurse who retrieved her chart.

The weight of her head rested on the closed fist of the arm she had propped on the desk. The wait slapped against the tears in her stomach like it contained a fish out of water. She bit her lower lip and smiled as the nurse spoke. Hannah did not test positive for any of the sexually transmitted diseases. She was
clean
.