look.”
“Tomorrow is Sunday,” Alec
reminded her. “I don’t think the dog pound is going to be open on a Sunday.”
“Why not?”
“Because everybody is in church
down here,” he looked at her. “I’ve been doing some reading about the South and
everybody down here belongs to churches. You’re nobody if you don’t belong to a
church. This entire section of the country practically shuts down on Sunday.”
Elliot shrugged, noticing that
Nash was now up on the porch, talking into his radio and surveying the massive
back yard that stretched all the way to the bayou beyond.
“So we’ll go on Monday,” she
said. “Tomorrow, I’d really like to unpack and look around our property anyway.
We can see in the daylight what we’ve gotten ourselves into.”
Alec snorted in agreement,
watching Nash as the man began to make his way around the house towards the
front porch. Elliot and Alec began to follow him when the sound of breaking
glass abruptly filled the air. It was coming from the front of the house.
Alec and Elliot took off at a
dead run, tearing through the central hall towards the front door. Elliot was
behind her son when he turned towards the double parlors, fired off a curse
word, and disappeared into the parlor. Elliot came up behind him, shrieking
when she saw what had him cursing.
Someone had thrown a Molotov
cocktail into the front window, which had landed smack on a cluster of moving
boxes. The liquid in the cocktail had sprayed all over the boxes, igniting
them, and a swiftly spreading fire was beginning to consume the cardboard.
Dark smoke was already filling the room as Alec grabbed at the flaming boxes.
“Mom, open the front door!” he
bellowed.
Elliot ran to the front door,
turning the old tumblers and yanking open the warped panel. There was a body
standing in the doorway and she yelped until she realized it was Nash. He
caught sight of the flames and charged past her, helping Alec pull out the
flaming boxes.
Elliot jumped in, pulling out a
large box that had one entire side of it on fire. Nash helped her pull it out
of the house, pushing her aside as he tossed the box out into the gravel drive.
But Elliot would not be moved aside, not when her possessions were burning. She
ran at the burning boxes and, fighting the heat and flames, tried to pull them
open to get at the contents.
“Alec,” she cried. “Help me get
the stuff out of these boxes!”
The flames were consuming the
cardboard. Alec helped his mother as much as he could as Nash ran to his patrol
car and snatched the fire extinguisher. He returned to the blaze, beating it
down with the extinguisher, trying not to spray Elliot or Alec in the process.
Soon enough, the blaze was out and Nash tossed the extinguisher aside, moving
in to help Elliot and Alec.
“Are you okay?” he asked Elliot.
She nodded silently, digging her
way into one of the boxes in particular. She seemed extremely determined and
Nash didn’t understand why until she pulled herself out of the box, pieces of
burnt paper in her hand. At least, she thought it was paper until he looked
more closely. They were pictures of a man in uniform.
Elliot stood there with the
singed and burnt photos in her hand, staring down at Rob’s smiling face. Nash
began to realize why she was so determined to fight the flames, feeling about
as bad as he possibly could, as Alec went to his mother and carefully pulled
the photos out of her hand.
“These will be okay,” he assured
her. “I can scan them with Photoshop and make them look like new again. Don’t
worry; they’ll be fine.”
Elliot watched her son as he
brushed at the pictures, trying to see just how badly damaged they were. She
watched him as he dug into the box again, searching for more photos that might
have been damaged. As he wandered back into the house with his hands full of
photos, she went to the steps of the front porch, sat heavily, and burst into
quiet tears.
Nash
“Tomorrow is Sunday,” Alec
reminded her. “I don’t think the dog pound is going to be open on a Sunday.”
“Why not?”
“Because everybody is in church
down here,” he looked at her. “I’ve been doing some reading about the South and
everybody down here belongs to churches. You’re nobody if you don’t belong to a
church. This entire section of the country practically shuts down on Sunday.”
Elliot shrugged, noticing that
Nash was now up on the porch, talking into his radio and surveying the massive
back yard that stretched all the way to the bayou beyond.
“So we’ll go on Monday,” she
said. “Tomorrow, I’d really like to unpack and look around our property anyway.
We can see in the daylight what we’ve gotten ourselves into.”
Alec snorted in agreement,
watching Nash as the man began to make his way around the house towards the
front porch. Elliot and Alec began to follow him when the sound of breaking
glass abruptly filled the air. It was coming from the front of the house.
Alec and Elliot took off at a
dead run, tearing through the central hall towards the front door. Elliot was
behind her son when he turned towards the double parlors, fired off a curse
word, and disappeared into the parlor. Elliot came up behind him, shrieking
when she saw what had him cursing.
Someone had thrown a Molotov
cocktail into the front window, which had landed smack on a cluster of moving
boxes. The liquid in the cocktail had sprayed all over the boxes, igniting
them, and a swiftly spreading fire was beginning to consume the cardboard.
Dark smoke was already filling the room as Alec grabbed at the flaming boxes.
“Mom, open the front door!” he
bellowed.
Elliot ran to the front door,
turning the old tumblers and yanking open the warped panel. There was a body
standing in the doorway and she yelped until she realized it was Nash. He
caught sight of the flames and charged past her, helping Alec pull out the
flaming boxes.
Elliot jumped in, pulling out a
large box that had one entire side of it on fire. Nash helped her pull it out
of the house, pushing her aside as he tossed the box out into the gravel drive.
But Elliot would not be moved aside, not when her possessions were burning. She
ran at the burning boxes and, fighting the heat and flames, tried to pull them
open to get at the contents.
“Alec,” she cried. “Help me get
the stuff out of these boxes!”
The flames were consuming the
cardboard. Alec helped his mother as much as he could as Nash ran to his patrol
car and snatched the fire extinguisher. He returned to the blaze, beating it
down with the extinguisher, trying not to spray Elliot or Alec in the process.
Soon enough, the blaze was out and Nash tossed the extinguisher aside, moving
in to help Elliot and Alec.
“Are you okay?” he asked Elliot.
She nodded silently, digging her
way into one of the boxes in particular. She seemed extremely determined and
Nash didn’t understand why until she pulled herself out of the box, pieces of
burnt paper in her hand. At least, she thought it was paper until he looked
more closely. They were pictures of a man in uniform.
Elliot stood there with the
singed and burnt photos in her hand, staring down at Rob’s smiling face. Nash
began to realize why she was so determined to fight the flames, feeling about
as bad as he possibly could, as Alec went to his mother and carefully pulled
the photos out of her hand.
“These will be okay,” he assured
her. “I can scan them with Photoshop and make them look like new again. Don’t
worry; they’ll be fine.”
Elliot watched her son as he
brushed at the pictures, trying to see just how badly damaged they were. She
watched him as he dug into the box again, searching for more photos that might
have been damaged. As he wandered back into the house with his hands full of
photos, she went to the steps of the front porch, sat heavily, and burst into
quiet tears.
Nash
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