Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 126547 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126547 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
“Emil,” Adam said in a tight voice. He held two surviving chickens, each under one arm, but there was no joy to his expression.
Emil darted to the side, wanting to enter the barn and get Leia, but Jinx was quicker and got in his way again, going as far as to nudge Emil hard with his head.
“Move out of the way!” Emil yelled in desperation, but the sinking feeling in his chest hurt like a punch and took him to the verge of falling. This couldn’t be happening.
Emil looked back at Adam, but everything turned blurry as his eyes welled up. “The infusions…”
Adam’s face was twisted in anguish, but he let go of the chickens and grabbed Emil’s arm with both hands. “I know, but at least Jinx is okay.”
A car stopped behind them, and Emil’s neighbor from across the large field got out, crossing himself as he watched the destruction. “My wife called the fire brigade but—”
He didn’t finish, but it was clear what he wanted to say. Emil would lose everything.
Everything.
“You were insured, right?” Adam asked in the softest whisper.
Tears spilled down Emil’s cheeks and he had no energy left to stand so he hugged Jinx’s neck for support. “I couldn’t afford it,” he whimpered, adding shame to the fire of his agony.
Was this nightmare really his life or had he entered hell on earth? Everything he owned was going up in flames along with his hopes and dreams for the future.
The labor of the past three months had been for nothing.
His memories of the night his parents died were vague, but what he did remember hit him like a truck. The air had smelled the same, and as his grandfather had pulled him away from the flames, all he could see were shadows in the windows upstairs. He didn’t know whether those were of his mom and dad trying to find a way out, or their souls locked in the fire of Emil’s guilt.
The distant sound of the fire engine was like yet another memory. And just like back then, the voluntary brigade couldn’t make it on time.
The smoke was already eating into his lungs when he turned to Adam. “I should have known nothing good can ever happen to me,” his words were barely a rasp. The heat beckoned him closer, told him he could end his misery, even if not without pain, but Jinx once again stood in his way, as if he knew all of Emil’s thoughts.
Adam’s hands trailed down his arm and held his in a grip that could break fingers if it became any harder, but Emil’s head was already clouding, as if his body couldn’t cope with the loss.
He spoke to Adam, because no one else would understand his despair. “I’ve worked so hard—” he swallowed a sob.
In the light of the fire, Adam’s eyes appeared somehow darker, but he leaned in and pulled Emil into a tight hug that expressed all his support, even if it couldn’t help Emil. “It’s not your fault. I’m here.”
Emil glanced toward the house when another terrible crash resounded through the air. The firefighters yelled something to each other as they spilled out of the fire engine, but he couldn’t hear through the pounding of blood in his ears.
He squeezed Adam in his arms, but as he watched the roof of the barn collapse, so did he. Overwhelmed, shattered into a million pieces, his knees gave in, and he landed on all fours, choking on air so full of fumes it made him cough.
The house was a pyre to send off Emil’s past, but when he looked into the flames, the smoke parted, revealing shadows on the edge of the woods. Emil’s breath caught, and when he blinked away tears, the murky silhouettes took on the form of deer. A wolf. A bear. But as Emil stared at the animals witnessing the destruction of his life with their burning eyes, the wind changed and blew smoke over the scene, leaving him uncertain whether he’d seen them at all.
***
Emil opened his eyes to stare at a flower-patterned lampshade. Its glow was dusky and cast a spider-shaped shadow on the ceiling above. The air smelled of green tea and sugar, but he didn’t realize where he was until Father Marek leaned over him with a frown. “You’re awake at last.”
He wished he wasn’t. He wished it all could have been a bad dream, but reality always caught up with him in the end, and he had no energy to fight it anymore.
“Am I at the parsonage?” he whispered, looking around for Adam.
His whole body was an icicle. If he was lucky, he could still take Mrs. Golonko up on her offer and slog his guts out at a job he despised while Adam drifted away from his life forever. He would call at first, but they would contact one another less and less until the thread of connection that now felt like a lifeline finally broke.