"What happened to him? What's wrong with him? Where are you taking him?"
"We're rushing him to the Metropolitan Hospital now," said the paramedic.
"I'm riding in with him." Wesley ignored the paramedic and leaped inside the cab. I wanted to go with. I wanted to be there for him, but I knew that there wasn't enough room for me. One paramedic closed the cab door and the other rushed to the front of the vehicle and took off with the siren wailing. Standing in the middle of the street, I felt helpless. Totally upset. My heart pounded so hard I thought bombs were exploding in my chest. I was about to cry but didn't want to break down in the middle of the street. I moved out of the way of the firefighters, who were still working, and joined the crowd of neighbors who'd come out to watch the drama unfold. I looked at Wesley's home, which was soaked in water and charred with blackness. I felt so bad and so useless. There was nothing more I could do so I began to head back home.
As I made my way back down the block I saw Liz Lloyd drive past me in her dad's convertible P.T. Cruiser. She then made a quick U-Turn and zoomed back toward me.
Damn
, I thought to myself.
The last person I want to see right now
is Liz Lloyd.
She cruised up to me and slowed down.
"Hey, girl," she said. I stopped walking and turned to look at her. She was in the car along with several people from her crew.
"Liz, just leave me—"
Before I could even finish my sentence, Liz yelled, "This is for ripping my shirt!" and then Liz, Brittany and Courtney slung cups filled with soda at me. One cup hit me on the face and exploded all over me. Another one hit me on the arm and a third one nailed me in the chest. I stood in shock as Liz and her crew laughed at me and then sped off. I felt completely humiliated and was so angry that I screamed out at the top of my voice. As I rushed home I could only think about all of the harmful things I wanted to do to Liz. I wanted to get a few bricks and smash out her car windows or get a can of paint and pour it all over her and her car. Once I got home, I rushed inside. I marched through the family without saying a word to Jordan or Barbara. I ran up the stairs, went into the bathroom and locked the door. I sat on the edge of the bathtub, placed my face in the palms of my hand and began sobbing. I didn't know what to do. Just when I thought things were looking brighter they got worse, all in a matter of moments. I heard a light knock at the door.
"Are you okay?" It was Jordan. He now wanted to sound concerned.
"Go away," I said. "I don't want to talk to you."
"Open the door, Keysha. Let's talk about this." He sounded regretful but I didn't care.
"Go away, I don't want to talk," I said as I continued to cry.
"I'll be here if you need anything. I'm sorry," he said, and walked away. About ten minutes later there was another knock at the door.
"What? Why can't I just be left alone?" I asked.
"It's me, Barbara. Can I come in?" she asked. I wanted to say go away but I didn't.
"Keysha?" she called to me again. "Just open the door and let me see you."
I exhaled, stood to my feet and walked over to the door. I unlocked it and Barbara came in. Once she was in, she closed the door behind her and locked it. I sat back down on the edge of the bathtub and she lowered the lid on the toilet and sat.
"What happened?" she asked. Before I could stop myself, I began crying again. I couldn't help it. I was so emotional.
"There was a fire." My voice trembled.
"A fire!" Barbara raised her voice. "What fire? Where?" She began firing questions.
"Wesley," I said. "When I walked him home, the fire department was putting out a fire at his house. His dad was still inside."
"Oh, my God." Barbara came over and draped her arm around me. Once again there was a knock at the door.
"Can I come in for a moment?" It was Jordan again.
"Go away, Jordan," Barbara yelled at the door. She turned back to me. "Is his dad okay?"
"I don't know. It all happened so quickly. When he saw the fire trucks in front of his house, he took off running. By the time I caught up to him he was leaping into the rear of the ambulance so that he could ride to the hospital with his dad. I didn't know what to do. I felt so helpless," I said.
"Oh, my. That is horrible. Do you know what hospital they went to?" Barbara asked.
"Metropolitan," I said.
"Come on. Pull yourself together. We're going to head over to the hospital with a care package for Wesley and offer our support."
"What?" I looked at her, confused.
"It's what a good neighbor does when something like this happens," Barbara said as she stood up and opened the door.
"Are you just going to sit there and cry, or are you going to do something to help?" Barbara surprised me yet again.
"I want to help," I said.
"Well, clean yourself up, put on some dry clothes and meet me downstairs in ten minutes. Why are your clothes wet anyway?"
"That's another complicated story. We'll talk about that later," I said as I rushed into my room to find some dry clothes to put on.