Ending #2

In which we find the second installment of an ending for something that has not been written.


They walked down the middle of the dirt road and occasionally looked over their shoulders to see if smoke was still rising where the trees ended at the small clearing. Billy, nine years old, wore one shoe. His sister Beth didn't wear any. "Dad, how long will it burn?" Billy asked. The boy ended his question, as usual, with no upward inflection.

Andy loved his son but sometimes wished he wouldn't ask the same question more than once. "Till the wood's gone, I guess." Beth was different: She would ask a question, parse the answer, then move on. 

"And you called Mom, right?" Billy asked. 

"I did," Andy said. "She'll be waiting for us. Keep walking, okay? We don't want to keep her waiting." He looked at his children's feet and wished he'd been able to grab enough shoes for them. But when he'd realized things had gotten out of control, he simply shoved them out of the front door. They'd stood on the front lawn and watched everything burn, each of them sobbing at one point or another. It was a sick feeling, watching the cabin burn. 

"Mom's gonna be mad," Beth said.

"Yeah, she is," Andy said. "But not at you two. At me. At the whole idea of the cabin, really." As soon as the three of them had gotten outside, Andy knew he'd have to make the phone call. Irene had not believed him at first. "The cabin what?" she'd said. But he heard a bit of fear in her voice after she got things straight in her mind.

Billy had skipped far ahead until he seemed small and carefree in the dust he was kicking up. Andy wondered if his son's bare foot was sore. Irene might be as mad about the lack of shoes as anything else. Beth seemed to walk as though nothing at all was missing from her feet.

When they reached the 7-Eleven where Irene was already waiting, the children ran to her and hugged her waist. Andy could see her wipe tears from her cheekbones. He kissed her mouth when he got to her, and he thought it was the most passionate kiss they'd shared in a long time. Maybe fear makes that happen, he thought.

Irene looked around the parking lot. "We can't stay here."

"I know," Andy said. "We'll have to drive to the house."

"No. It's not safe there."

Andy shrugged. The kids had gone into the 7-Eleven to get a snack. "We have to. We'll have to risk it. We'll wait for awhile, for nighttime. Then we'll drive the long way. We'll be okay, Irene. I promise."

"You've promised lots of things, Andy. Now look at us. What about the kids?"

"The kids will be fine. We'll all be fine. Things are different now. I can feel it."

"You can feel it, Andy?"

"Yeah. They probably aren't even looking for us now."

Irene told Billy and Beth to get into the car when they came out with pretzels and Sprite. "We'll wait until dark, then. I'll drop you off at the park near the house, and you'll walk home to make sure nobody is there."

Andy pressed his chest into her back. He wrapped his arms around her belly and nuzzled her neck. He was still remembering the kiss. "We'll be okay."

Then they got into the car and waited for night to fall.