smiled in spite of myself. ‘That’s sweet.’
‘Sweet is my middle name.’
‘Really?’ I said, slapping him on the shoulder again, ‘I thought it was dumb ass?’ He frowned. ‘I hate it when you call me that.’ ‘I hate it when you call me dickhead.’ Our pet names for each other were so charming.
‘I haven’t called you dickhead … yet.’
‘Just getting in first.’
‘I’m not a dumb ass. Okay, so what I said before was stupid, but I said sorry, so end of story. But if you really want to split hairs Elena, you seem to have the dumb ass corner of the market covered for this evening by taking on two vân â tors by yourself.’
‘Shut up,’ I said, elbowing him in the ribs and grinning. ‘I’m already in enough trouble without you rubbing it in.’
We passed the last container and headed directly for the car, which was located on the other side of the metal fence.
‘Yeah, but you’re not just in any trouble,’ he chortled as he swung the gate back to allow me to pass, ‘but big trouble.’
I rolled my eyes. ‘I know … I haven’t forgotten.’
* * *
When Susan and George finally made it back to the car, barely half an hour had slipped by. I leant my head up against the window and pretended to be asleep. Not that I was even remotely tired. I was still too highly strung to even consider closing my eyes and letting the sandman near me. Besides, I smelt too much like a wet dog right now to even get comfortable enough to sink into slumber.
In the distance, beyond the shipping containers, I could see the swirling clouds of smoke that still filled the air with the heavy stench of death. It was a solemn reminder of everything I had been through tonight.
The front doors opened and both of my parents lowered themselves into the car. It rocked slightly under their weight. George turned around to look at me.
I immediately snapped my eyes shut again, pretending to be asleep. I felt his eyes heavily upon me, but I didn’t give into temptation. I kept silent.
Eventually he must have given up because I heard the keys turn in the ignition and the car purr to life. He shifted it into gear, everyone silent except Lucas who emitted small snoring sounds. In another few minutes, those relatively quiet snores would turn into the ripping sound of a chain-saw coming to life. Even earplugs would be a lost cause at that stage.
In the distance I could hear sirens wailing. They were drawing closer; no doubt the fire department was coming to extinguish the flames. When they arrived there would be no evidence to suggest something supernatural besides me had walked the shipping yards this evening.
I cracked my eyes open slightly. Susan and George were both talking quietly, neither one of them paying attention to me. I took that as a good sign. But between the sound of the sirens and the racket coming from Lucas’s snoring, I couldn’t hear anything intelligible that they might have been saying anyway.
I imagined that they were probably tossing up between hot oil or the rack in terms of punishment, although realistically, grounding was the most likely choice. I’d come to expect this hindrance to my social life, but it was not an unsalvageable punishment, especially when the possibilities of my second story window were endless. If they really wanted to punish me, all they had to do was ban chocolate from the house. That really would kill me.
We had only just driven shy of the shipping yard’s entry point and turned back onto the side road that led us here when the sound of the emergency vehicles grew louder.
The sirens wailed and tension mounted. I could see the lights on the top of the fire truck flashing brightly in the darkness ahead. Behind the fire truck was a single police car, its sirens flashing blue and keeping an easy pace with the truck.
They both blew past us in an instant, the sirens fading as quickly as they had come.
I let out a small sigh of
‘Sweet is my middle name.’
‘Really?’ I said, slapping him on the shoulder again, ‘I thought it was dumb ass?’ He frowned. ‘I hate it when you call me that.’ ‘I hate it when you call me dickhead.’ Our pet names for each other were so charming.
‘I haven’t called you dickhead … yet.’
‘Just getting in first.’
‘I’m not a dumb ass. Okay, so what I said before was stupid, but I said sorry, so end of story. But if you really want to split hairs Elena, you seem to have the dumb ass corner of the market covered for this evening by taking on two vân â tors by yourself.’
‘Shut up,’ I said, elbowing him in the ribs and grinning. ‘I’m already in enough trouble without you rubbing it in.’
We passed the last container and headed directly for the car, which was located on the other side of the metal fence.
‘Yeah, but you’re not just in any trouble,’ he chortled as he swung the gate back to allow me to pass, ‘but big trouble.’
I rolled my eyes. ‘I know … I haven’t forgotten.’
* * *
When Susan and George finally made it back to the car, barely half an hour had slipped by. I leant my head up against the window and pretended to be asleep. Not that I was even remotely tired. I was still too highly strung to even consider closing my eyes and letting the sandman near me. Besides, I smelt too much like a wet dog right now to even get comfortable enough to sink into slumber.
In the distance, beyond the shipping containers, I could see the swirling clouds of smoke that still filled the air with the heavy stench of death. It was a solemn reminder of everything I had been through tonight.
The front doors opened and both of my parents lowered themselves into the car. It rocked slightly under their weight. George turned around to look at me.
I immediately snapped my eyes shut again, pretending to be asleep. I felt his eyes heavily upon me, but I didn’t give into temptation. I kept silent.
Eventually he must have given up because I heard the keys turn in the ignition and the car purr to life. He shifted it into gear, everyone silent except Lucas who emitted small snoring sounds. In another few minutes, those relatively quiet snores would turn into the ripping sound of a chain-saw coming to life. Even earplugs would be a lost cause at that stage.
In the distance I could hear sirens wailing. They were drawing closer; no doubt the fire department was coming to extinguish the flames. When they arrived there would be no evidence to suggest something supernatural besides me had walked the shipping yards this evening.
I cracked my eyes open slightly. Susan and George were both talking quietly, neither one of them paying attention to me. I took that as a good sign. But between the sound of the sirens and the racket coming from Lucas’s snoring, I couldn’t hear anything intelligible that they might have been saying anyway.
I imagined that they were probably tossing up between hot oil or the rack in terms of punishment, although realistically, grounding was the most likely choice. I’d come to expect this hindrance to my social life, but it was not an unsalvageable punishment, especially when the possibilities of my second story window were endless. If they really wanted to punish me, all they had to do was ban chocolate from the house. That really would kill me.
We had only just driven shy of the shipping yard’s entry point and turned back onto the side road that led us here when the sound of the emergency vehicles grew louder.
The sirens wailed and tension mounted. I could see the lights on the top of the fire truck flashing brightly in the darkness ahead. Behind the fire truck was a single police car, its sirens flashing blue and keeping an easy pace with the truck.
They both blew past us in an instant, the sirens fading as quickly as they had come.
I let out a small sigh of
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