Not Done Yet - 5. Up In Flames

Up In Flames

When evening came around, and his dad still hadn’t shown up, Casey started worrying for real. He gathered up all his change and headed for the laundry, where there was an actual pay phone outside.

“9-1-1. What is your emergency?”

“Ma’am, this isn’t an emergency, but I don’t know who to call. My dad’s been missing for a couple of days.”

“Let me connect you.”

“Precinct. Sargent Rhodes speaking. How may I help you?”

“Hello, Sargent? My dad hasn’t shown up for over two days, and I’m starting to worry. I’ve got no idea where he is.”

“OK, what’s your father’s name?”

“Donovan. Travis Donovan. My name’s Casey Donovan.”

“How old are you, Casey?”

“I’m fifteen.”

“OK, Casey. Where and when did you last see or hear from him?”

“Two nights ago, at the house. He was there.”

“Have you contacted his work?”

“No, sir. He hasn’t started his new job yet. We just moved to town, and I don’t think he knows anybody here.”

“How do you think he left?”

“His truck’s gone. It’s a ’62 Chevy, license plate NO 2106.”

“Alright, Casey. Let me check into this and get back with you. Can I reach you at this number?”

“Um, no sir. This is a pay phone. Our phone hasn’t been connected yet.”

“Alright, what’s your address?”

“1723 Pecan Street. How soon do you think you’ll know something?”

“I’m not certain. We’ll check for any reports on him. If there’s no record, it may take a while. Do you have a place to stay, and somebody to look after you?”

Casey crossed his fingers. “Yes sir, my mom and sister are coming to town. I’ll be at the house ‘til then.”

“OK, son, sit tight, and we’ll get word to you as soon as we know anything.”

Casey hung up and looked up at the sky. Stars were just starting to come out, barely visible with the light glare around him. He slowly walked back to the house, stripped down, and got into bed. After staring at the ceiling for a while, he got up and went to his closet. He pulled down James’ bow and went back to bed, where he fell asleep with it in his hands.

Early the next morning, there was a knocking on the front door, so he threw on some clothes and rushed to answer it. On the front step was a police officer. His squad car was in the driveway.

“Are you Casey Donovan?”

Casey frowned. This was not going to be good. “Yes sir.”

“Did you report Travis Donovan missing?”

Casey gulped and nodded again.

“Son, Travis Donovan has been arrested in connection with a fatal accident. He’s being held without bond at the Hays County jail. His blood alcohol level was four times the legal limit. When you reported him as missing, you told the Sargent that your mother and sister were coming to town, and could take care of you. Is that correct?” Casey nodded silently. “Are they here?”

Casey shook his head. “They should be getting to town this afternoon.”

“Do you need anything before they get here?”

“No sir. I’ve got groceries and just did laundry. Thanks for letting me know. What’s going to happen to my dad?”

“He’s charged with vehicular homicide and driving while intoxicated. From the looks of things, he’s probably going to be in jail for a long time. Are you sure you don’t need anything?”

“No, but thanks.” Casey closed the door, turned, and sank to the floor, but he didn’t cry. Not this time. It was finally over. His dad wasn’t coming back any time soon.

After a while, he got up and went to the kitchen table. Turning to a clean page in his notebook, he started writing. He wrote down what he had in the house to eat, the money he had on hand, and he wrote down what he would need for a few days. It was obvious he couldn’t last long on his own, and his dad never left money around the house. He wrote down Ellen’s name and number and circled it time after time.

Most of the food in the house would have to be cooked, but the stove was gas, and it hadn’t been turned on yet.

He stared at the page, then wrote “James.”

***
Thursday dawned clear and warm. Casey got up and got ready. He put his notebook in a small backpack and headed out to go see James.

When he got there, he was a little winded. James was on the front step, waiting for him.

“Slept ‘til the crack of noon, I see.” James was grinning. “Can you keep riding, or do you need to rest up first?”

“Let’s go. I’m just warmed up.”

“I can smell, uh, tell.”

“Some of us have already had a workout. You’re no daisy after you’ve been outside sweating for a while, either.”

“I object. My sweat smells like wildflowers.”

“More like skunk cabbage.”

“Oh, we are taking the steep way to get there. Keep up.” James mounted up and took off, laughing.

They got to the park, both breathing hard. Then the fun really began. The state park road was the one used for bicycle training rides, because it had so many twists and hills. Twice a year, thousands of cyclists would pass through the park. Many of them wouldn’t make it through without getting off the bike and walking at least partway.

At one point, James stopped, looked both ways, and took off across a small clearing. Casey followed, and they came to a trail under the shadow of tall pines. Following that down a shallow decline, James soon stopped. The sound of running water floated on the air, and they walked their bikes to a small waterfall on a creek, that emptied into a basin maybe twenty feet across. It was tough to say how deep, since the falling water distorted the view.

James laid down his bike and stripped off his shirt. Then he kicked off his shoes and took off his shorts. Underneath, he was wearing snug yellow and black striped trunk briefs that practically glowed against his tanned skin. He stepped down to the pool and slid in. Casey laughed and followed suit. The water was cool and fresh, and both boys smiled at each other, sitting up to their necks in the water.

Casey was the first to speak. “This is nice. After that ride, I was getting hot, and almost asked to stop.”

James dipped his head under the water quickly, then shook the water out of his hair and pulled it back out of both eyes. “I like to do this after we’ve had rain. The creek flows cleaner, and the pool’s great to cool down in. Normally, I skinny dip.”

“Why didn’t you do it this time?”

“I don’t know you that well.” James looked almost shy saying that. His hair had fallen over his left eye again, and he’d ducked his head a little.

“Nothing you’ve got to show would be any more surprising than that underwear you’ve got on. I thought Indians liked to blend in.”

“I am blending in. With my brothers, the bumblebees.”

Casey looked hard at him. For a few seconds, James kept a straight face, then he cracked a smile, and both boys started laughing, hard. Casey splashed him with as much water as he could stir up, and that started the splash war. After a couple of minutes, both were laughing so hard, they couldn’t even see through all the water flying back and forth.

Casey was the first to give up. He stepped up the bank to a large rock and laid back. He was smiling. James came out of the water and sat next to him.

“Well, my underwear’s not gonna dry out until I wring some of the water out of it,” said Casey. He stood up and pulled down his grey boxer briefs. Then he wrung them out good, shook them, and stepped back into them. “Ooh, it’s still squishy.” He wiggled around a little, trying to settle them into place.

James laughed and started to do the same, his back turned to Casey. He didn’t expect the slap on his ass, and nearly fell over. When he got his underwear off, he turned around to face the other boy, who had an evil grin, and threw his underwear in Casey’s face. Wet, they stuck there until he peeled them off and threw them back to James. “I guess I deserved that. Nice weiner,” he snickered, raising an eyebrow.

James laughed again, wrung out his trunks, and put them on. Then he sat back down next to Casey and breathed a huge sigh. “I love days like this. I’m glad you could come.”

“I’m glad I could, too…. I-I don’t know if I’ll be able to again.”

James looked up, and saw the worry on Casey’s face. “Why not? What’s the matter? Did your dad say something?”

Casey looked off and sighed. Then he dropped his gaze and stared at his feet, while he stammered, “No, he h-hasn’t said anything to me for a few d-days. Not since he hit me.” James flinched. “He left the night before we met. I don’t guess he’ll be saying much to me at all a-anymore. He’s in jail.”

“WHAT?!”

“I c-called the cops to report him missing. A squad car came by yesterday, and the officer told me he’d killed somebody behind the wheel, driving d-drunk.”

“What about you? What are you gonna do?”

“The other d-day, when I called my s-sister, I asked about coming to stay to stay with her and Mom. Sh-she told me Mom didn’t want me anymore.” He spoke so softly, James had to lean forward to hear.

“Holy FUCK, Casey! How COULD she?!” James was on his feet, his eyes smoldering, his lips pulled back in a snarl. His whole body was quivering.

“D-dad b-beat her. H-he nearly k-killed her. M-mom always said I looked j-just like him. Ellen told me sh-she can’t look at me without th-thinking of him. Sh-she said M-mom isn’t strong enough. That s-seeing m-me could k-kill her.”

“Crap. Where does that leave you?”

“I-I think I-I c-can talk her into i-it., but it’s gonna take t-time. I-If I d-don’t, Children’s P-protective S-services will p-probably put me in a foster home.”

James began to pace. “How long do you need?”

“M-maybe a couple of w-weeks. I’ve got enough food to last if I-I’m careful, but I’ve got no way to cook it. Dad n-never got the gas turned on.”

James stopped and turned to face his friend. “I’ve got camping gear you can borrow. There’s a camp stove with enough fuel for plenty of meals. And you can come over for a few days, too. I’ll clear it with Mom.”

Casey was shaking his head, but James wasn’t looking, and continued, “You’re going to have to talk to your sister, and let her know how things stand. This is not right. You don’t turn your back on family because of the way they look. You’re coming home with me. Plan to stay the night, at least.”

“Dude, I c-can’t do that. I c-can’t take that chance. If your Mom knows, she might bring in CPS, and I’m b-back where I don’t want to be.”

“Well, you’re at least taking the camping stove. It’ll get you by. I wish you’d let me tell Mom.”

“No, please, I’m b-beggin’ you. At least, not for a few days. Let me try this my way.”

“OK. Just for three days, though. When we get to my house, you can use the phone to call your sister. Got her number with you?” Casey nodded. “Cool. Get dressed and grab your bike. Let’s go to my place and get some lunch.”

The ride back was a lot quicker, once they got to the park entrance. They went back the same way, and since James had taken them by the steeper route, they coasted downhill most of the way. Casey kept falling behind, since he was riding the brakes, but James’s hair was flying fast and free in the wind.

Back at the house, they made a quick lunch. Casey picked up the camp stove and fuel, along with a lighter, and called his sister to fill her in. Then, he talked to James.

“Dude, she’s gonna talk to my mom. Maybe she can help, but Mom isn’t the same since Dad…. Listen, I gotta go. If I stick around, your mom might get suspicious.”

“When will I see you again?”

“Today’s Thursday, right? Saturday morning, I’ll come over, about the same time. Thanks for the stove.”

They bumped fists, and Casey pedaled off.

That evening, Casey set up the stove and boiled some pasta. When it was done, he stirred in some sauce from a jar in the pantry. He’d seen his mom and sister do it, and it didn’t seem hard. When he sat down to eat at the table, he had a smug smile.

He slept through the night, and woke up stiff and sore from the bike ride, in the same position he’d gone to sleep. He could barely move, but rolled over to put his foot on the floor beside the bed, and after a couple of tries, was finally able to stand up to go to the bathroom. He took a shower and walked back to his room with the towel over his shoulder. He pulled on a pair of black boxer briefs and got dressed. “Wish I had some fancy underwear like James.” Lying on his back on the floor, he hooked his legs under the bed and did sit-ups until he couldn’t do any more. Then, he rolled over for pushups, and stopped counting at forty-eight.

Later, he pulled out James’ bow and practiced as he’d been taught, stringing, drawing, and releasing the bow without an arrow, to build up his strength. Any time he started to shake from the strain, he’d set it aside. He did more sit-ups and pushups every time he put down the bow, too.

Near bedtime, he hadn’t eaten. There was pasta left over for dinner. He seared some chicken in oil to throw into it, and put the pan back on the burner. He had cookies for dessert. “Thanks, Jessie.” She must have seen the stove when she tucked the cookies away in his pack the day before, but hadn’t said anything. “Maybe James is right, and I should let you know what’s going on.”

He took a quick shower and lay down, naked, on top of the covers. Relaxed and fed, he soon fell asleep.

He woke up in pitch darkness, coughing his lungs out, and rolled off the bed to the floor. He pulled on the clothes he’d left on the chair last night, and crawled to the front door, staying low to avoid the worst of the smoke. He lurched through the door when he got it open, and pitched onto the lawn, still coughing, and puked.

Smoke was pouring out the door. An elderly next-door neighbor turned on a porch light and peered out the window at him and his house, and instantly disappeared. He struggled to get to the house, and knocked on the door, bent over and heaving. A few seconds later, the door opened, and the lady appeared with a phone pressed to her ear, “Yes, that’s right, Pecan Street. Thank you. The boy who just moved in is at my front door, and doesn’t look too well. I need to let you go. Thank you. Please hurry.”

“Oh my, son, come in! I just called the fire department, and they’re on the way. Was anybody else in the house with you?”

“No.” cough “No, my dad wasn’t home.” cough

“Here, sit on the couch. I’ll get you some water. Don’t worry, they’ll be here any minute.”

Right at that instant, the night was torn by the sound of a siren approaching fast. Lights started flashing outside the window as the fire truck pulled up. The firefighters scrambled, rolling out hoses and hooking them up to the hydrant across the street.

Two firefighters carrying extinguishers and wearing respirators rushed through the front door. Within a few seconds, the smoke stopped billowing out. Shortly, the two men walked out calmly, went to the truck, and sat down. Firefighters began to replace gear on the truck, and the captain walked up to the house where Casey and the old woman were watching and waiting. The woman opened the door, and she and Casey both stepped out to meet the fire captain.

“Ma’am, are you the one who called in the report of the fire?”

The woman, still dressed in her robe, pulled it a little tighter around her. “Yes, I sure am. I’m Marian Goecke. This is Casey Donovan, and he’s the neighbor boy who showed up on my doorstep just before I called.”

“You reported that Casey here was in physical distress. Son, are you OK now?”

“Yeah, I guess so. After I was out of the smoke for a few minutes, the coughing stopped.”

“What can you tell me about the fire?”

“Not much. I woke up to a house full of smoke.”

“Who lives in the house with you, Casey?”

“My dad did, but he’s in jail now.” Mrs. Goecke let out a small gasp. “My mother and sister are supposed to be coming to town to get me.”

“What time are they supposed to get here?”

“I-I’m not sure.”

“OK. I need you to wait right here for a couple of minutes while we get some things taken care of next door.”

While the captain walked away, Casey turned to Mrs. Goecke and asked, “Am I going to be able to go back home now?”

“Best ask the fire captain about that.” Right then, he came walking back to them.

“Casey, can you come with me for a moment?” The man gently led Casey back to the fire truck, where the equipment was just about all put away. “Casey, since you’re under 18, I can’t leave you alone unsupervised in the house. The fire was a grease fire from a pan left on a camp stove. Mostly, it was just smoke from the burning grease. I’ve called Children’s Protective Services, and they’ve got a case worker on his way. He should be here in a couple of minutes, since he lives nearby. His name is John Weaver.”

Casey hung his head, but told the fire captain thanks. The two of them stood there waiting for the case worker. A couple of firefighters came to the captain with questions or to let him know the status of the scene. A paramedic walked up and checked the boy out. He nodded at Casey and left, satisfied there were no issues from breathing in the smoke.

Shortly, a white SUV pulled up to the curb, an older man stepped out, and walked up to the captain. “Hi Riggs. Is this the boy?”

“Sure is, John. Casey, I’m leaving you with Mr. Weaver. He’ll see to it you get a place to sleep tonight. Good luck to you, and I hope your mom gets here soon. John will see to it that she’s notified ASAP. See you later, John.”

“C’mon, kid. You’ve had enough excitement for one night. Let’s get you someplace to sleep for the rest of it.” Mr. Weaver took Casey back to the SUV and opened the passenger door for his young charge. Casey got in, moving mechanically, and fastened his seat belt, his eyes dead.

*

On the phone the next morning, Casey got hold of Ellen, while the case worker went to the break room to let him talk in private. He’d spent the night in a house set aside for runaways and kids headed for foster homes or other destinations. It was a cheerless place, but he had a cot and a pillow. A different case worker from Mr. Weaver had brought him to this office after swinging by his house for some belongings first thing in the morning, after a tasteless breakfast. Casey gave her James’ bow and other gear, and she promised to get it back to him.

“She did what?!... Oh fuck, sis! I’m so sorry, I had no way of knowing she’d…. No, you couldn’t, either.... What did the doc say?... Uh huh…. Three months?.... Fuck…. No, I understand…. I know…. Yeh, I love you, too…. Yeh….. Sure…. OK…. No, it’s OK. I’ll figure something out. I’ve got some ideas…. Yeh, Children’s Protective Services…. I’ve got a contact name; they can put me in touch with someone…. Sure…. I’ll keep in touch, and let you know.”

He put down the phone slowly and turned toward the door that led outside the CPS office. He stood up and calmly walked over and out the door. He just kept walking and didn’t look back, down the road, then another road, then another, aimlessly.

When he couldn’t walk any further, he sat down and rested in someone’s front yard. After a while, he stood up and started walking again, not focusing on anything. He meandered his way down to the river. Crossing the same bridge he had crossed on his bike just a few days before, when he first got to town, a police car pulled up alongside, and the officer rolled down his window. “Son, is your name Casey Donovan?”