Taking the Fall (35 page)

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Authors: W. Ferraro

BOOK: Taking the Fall
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Leah was unsure; Molly’s instructions of remaining here replayed in her mind. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea . . .”

John and Peter began to whine at their disappointment.

“It really isn’t breaking the rule since my mom said to play. We are going to get a snack,” Sammy said trying to persuade Leah.

Leah still didn’t feel right, but a s’more did sound good to her.

Well, if I ask Jess, that is kinda like asking an adult.

Without a word, she left the living room and walked to where the closed door stood at the threshold of Jessica and Sammy’s room. Leah knocked lightly while calling to Jessica. But no response came. She knocked again, louder this time, but was ignored again. She put her ear to the door and could hear movement.

So, she gently turned the knob and opened the door, “Jess, may Sammy, the boys and I . . .” her words stopped in her throat as Leah took in the scene before her. Jess lay on her bed with Marc over her. His shirt was removed, as was hers, and they were kissing intently.

Marc turned toward the intruder with an unabashed smirk on his face while Jess seethed at the interruption.

“Leah! GET OUT! Go away!”

Leah remained unmoving, yet her face turned red at the confusion of what she walked in on.

Jess yelled again for Leah to leave, but Marc played at Leah’s indecision. “You want a turn, sped?” Marc smiled wolfishly.

Jess’ attention was no longer on Leah at the door, but now at the boy over her after his completely rude name-calling.

“Come on, sped, come join in.”

Something in the way he looked at her finally gave Leah the shove she needed to move. She slammed the door shut and ran back to the kids.

Her hands began to move of their own accord. She flapped them so hard that her wrists began to ache from the motion.

“Can we go?” Sammy asked, already pulling the boys from their seats and heading down the stairs.

Leah remained mute, trying to rid herself of what she saw but also for the creepiness that still overtook her body. She knew her stim was a tell of how upset she was, but she couldn’t help it. Her hands flapped excessively as if trying to rid water droplets from them as she rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet, her body on autopilot with her coping mechanism.

They reached the kitchen quickly, and Sammy was already taking out all the ingredients. John and Peter had pulled two stools over to the large stainless steel table where they had eagerly climbed and were waiting impatiently for the impending glorious gooeyness that would be tickling their taste buds shortly.

Leah, even in her heightened state, looked around for Greg.

“Greg isn’t here?”

“Nope! Mom gave him the whole day off. He was only here earlier to finish up some work!”

A bad feeling overtook Leah, but the alternative was going back upstairs and that was the last thing she wanted to do.

“Uh oh,” Sammy sighed, as she dumped the enormous bag of marshmallows, the oversized chocolate bar, and the already open box of graham crackers onto the table.

John and Peter asked what was wrong, but Sammy didn’t answer. She just remained focused on Leah, who was at the end of the large table. Leah knew what she must look like, but she couldn’t get a grip on controlling it.

“Leah?”

Leah knew she couldn’t tell Sammy what happened, but she also couldn’t stop her body from reacting. The look Sammy was giving her was not something different from the way many other people looked at her when she flapped. Her mother’s voice always played in her brain.
“Pull yourself together, Leah Marie! Do you want everyone to know that you are on sensory overload?”

Focus, Leah! Focus on Sammy! You are fine. Forget what happened and relax!

Over the years, and with the help of the many behavioral therapies that Allison insisted Leah have, Leah found that she could recognize her stimming and begin to talk herself out of it.

Breathe. Inhale. Exhale. In and out. Stop your hands. Calm them. Feel the muscles flex through your fingers. Extend and close, extend and close.
Soon her hands began to slow. Her body still swayed, but she thought of her feet as a small elevator. Each time her body went up it didn’t go as high until finally she could stop the rocking altogether.
ABA at its finest.

“So, how about those s’mores?” Leah asked hoping that would be the end of it.

“I forgot, the only way to make them is over the stove, and I’m not allowed to use it.”

“Oh, no!” John and Peter whined.

Leah hated seeing the unhappiness on their faces and considering the alternative of going back upstairs, she offered. “Well, I can do it.”

This resulted in a round of cheers and celebrations.

Leah walked to the oversized stove and turned the first burner on. The blue flame burned with one click of the ignitor. Sammy found wooden skewers in a nearby drawer and added marshmallows to each. The boys were in charge of the assembly line of graham crackers and chocolate, sampling as they went.

When three of the four marshmallows had browned to perfection, Sammy handed Leah the last one, her own. However holding the wooden skewers over the open flame took a toll on Leah’s hand. She shut the burner off, walked over to the sink and washed her hands with cool water. Taking a large wad of paper towels, she dried her now cool hand and walked back over to the stove. Encouraged by the oohs and aahs of delight from the boys who were enjoying what was left of their s’mores, Leah placed the used towels on a forgotten apron which was left by the staff next to the burner, turned it back on, and continued to toast her marshmallow to brown perfection.

“I’m thirsty!” John exclaimed, which was seconded by his brother.

“There is chocolate milk out front in the counter fridge. Come on,” Sammy instructed leading the group out to the dining room.

Leah turned to follow them before realizing the burner was still on. She turned back, lost her balance, and brushed up against the counter where the apron lay, unknowingly moving it over the exposed flame. However, Leah didn’t notice and turned the burner off and exited the kitchen.

She went through the swinging door and found Sammy, John, and Peter each sitting crossed leg on the floor with a glass of chocolate milk in hand. Leah sat down next to Peter, accepting the already poured glass of milk.

Noticing the looks of envy as she held her untouched s’more in hand, Leah took one bite before breaking it in half and offering both John and Peter the remains.

They sat in silence enjoying the intake of sugar before John asked peculiarly, “What is that smell?”

Leah and Sammy looked at one another, both admitting to noticing the burning smell. Leah led the way through the swinging doors, stopping quickly when the sight of the small fire registered. Spreading her arms wide, she halted Sammy and the boys from walking past her.

“Oh my gosh! Fire! What are we going to do?” Sammy yelled nervously.

Leah looked around quickly for anything to extinguish the flame. Her eyes fell on the black bucket next to the sink with a gray rag draped over the side.

“Keep the boys back,” Leah instructed, pushing John toward Sammy, before rushing to where the bucket sat. With two hands, Leah brought the heavy liquid filled bucket toward the small flame and heaved the liquid onto the fire.

But instead of the flame sizzling out, the opposite occurred. The flame grew tenfold, now covering the entire counter, stove, and wall. Orange, red, and white heat covered and claimed new territory with each passing second.

I don’t understand! Why didn’t the water make the fire go out?

Leah took several steps backward, unable to keep her eyes off the blaze.

“That was oil!” Sammy shouted, pushing the boys back toward the door they entered, trying to get away from the growing heat.

Now the entire back wall and another, as well as the ceiling became engulfed. Leah knew it was time to get out. She couldn’t do anything else. Ensuring Sammy and the boys were out, she followed them, pulling her cell phone from her pocket while rushing the four of them out to the sidewalk.

Without thought, she dialed the emergency dispatcher and gave all the necessary information. When the call disconnected, she turned to the three scared faces around her knowing their expressions of fear matched her own.

The festival, which had wrapped up earlier in the day, provided a ghost town on Main Street.

Black smoke poured out of the orange glow of
Molly’s.

Silent moments passed that felt like hours when Sammy gasped, “Oh God, Jessica is upstairs!”

As the words left her mouth, sounds of people coughing cut through the eerie silence. Leah wrapped her arms around Sammy and the boys, unable to control the flapping of her hands. She tried to keep them still while the sirens of the fire trucks became louder as the big rigs raced toward them.

Marc and Jess coughed as they emerged from the smoke-filled air, joining the younger kids on the sidewalk.

Relief overtook Leah until Jessica rounded on them.

“What the hell did you do?” Jessica yelled at the young group, unaware that Marc had run off down the street.

“It was an accident!” Sam cried as the boys cried into each side of her shirt.

Before anything else could be spoken, the sheriff’s SUV, pulled up immediately in front of them.

Gage exited the car, along with his deputy, Paige, both rushing to Leah and the kids.

“Is everyone all right? Where are Hunter and Molly?” Gage asked more nervously than professional.

Sammy answered, “They aren’t here. It is just us.”

Gage placed a hand at Leah’s head, looking her over from head to toe to ensure that she really was uninjured, before moving on to the smaller three, then finally to Jessica.

Apparently satisfied with all of their appearances, he turned his cop mode on. “What happened?” the question was aimed toward Jessica as he asked with a high volume since now the firefighters were issuing orders.

“Don’t ask me! They did it. I was upstairs,” she yelled accusingly, as she sought physical comfort from Marc, before realizing he was no longer there. She looked around in every direction as tears rolled down her face.

Gage turned his attention toward Leah as Sammy and the boys continued to weep. Paige squatted down to offer comfort to the boys and Samantha as Gage focused on Leah. Her large eyes filled with water as her hands began to flap excessively. She rocked from one foot to the other as if the ground was hot beneath her feet. Looking beyond her uncle, she watched where the firefighters battled the still roaring flames.

She observed as the firefighters attached hoses and got low to the ground before turning the mighty gush of water onto the flames. Heavy coated men ran here and there in perfect organization attending to the horrifying scene in front of them. Thick black smoke continued to engulf the night, extending over across the street to where Gage stood with the kids.

Through the turbulent noise, you could hear the distinct deep timbre of the fire chief. He issued orders clearly and precisely as he hung his helmet covered head low to keep the backsplash of water off his face. The rotating red beacon cast continuing shadows across his face as he watched his company bring the flames down.

Leah knew her uncles, Mason, Casey, and Jamie, were somewhere in the mix, but she couldn’t pick them out of the growing crowd.

Leah began to pace in a wide circle, becoming less aware of the others and more aware of her body’s overcompensation to all the external stimuli.

Aware of the overload Leah was going through, Gage stepped toward Leah, ducked down to her level, placed his hands on each one of her shoulders, and looked her straight in the eyes. His large hands massaged gently giving contact to her battling body as well as keeping a connection for Leah to focus on, something to cut through the overload of her system and bring her back around.

When she finally seemed to focus on Gage’s face, he smiled at her and spoke clearly. “Leah, listen to me. You are not in trouble. No one is in trouble. Accidents happen, but I need to know exactly what happened.”

Leah began to weep.

Gage brought her small body in close to his chest, comforting her. He kissed her head, all the while whispering she was okay and not in trouble.

Finally, Leah was calmed enough to recite what had occurred, including that she thought she was throwing water on the fire when in fact it was leftover cooking oil.

Just as she had finished, Hunter pulled up with Molly, who was out of the car and running toward her kids before Hunter had the car in park.

“Sammy! Jess! Oh my God! Are you all right?” Molly screamed as she finally reached them, embracing them all, including the boys to ensure they were in fact physically fine.

The tears that ran down Molly’s face were the same that ran down her youngest daughter’s cheeks. Molly couldn’t seem to kiss, hug, or touch all of them enough.

Hunter, however, only seemed to have eyes for Leah.

“I’m so sorry, Daddy! I didn’t mean to!” She just kept repeating as the tears fell faster and harder as Hunter held her tight.

“Shh, Moonbeam, shh. Are you okay? Do you need to go to the hospital?” Hunter crooned checking her over multiple times.

Soon other arms joined in the father-daughter embrace. Molly kissed Leah’s head before trying to brush the hair out of her face. She too whispered suggestions of calmness but held Leah as she cried.

“Molly! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to! It was an accident! I tried to fix it!” Leah just kept repeating over and over again as she continued to cry.

“I know, sweetie. It’s okay. As long as you are all safe, it is all that matters.”

Tracey and Bob came running up a moment later.

Tracey called for her boys as they each picked a boy up in their arms. Bob looked at Sammy and Jess but didn’t embrace either of them.

Gage filled Molly and Hunter in on what Leah had told him, including that Marc Constantine had also been in there but took off when the fire broke out.

Molly squeezed both Leah and Sammy a little tighter, before rounding on her oldest, “Jess, you were supposed to be watching them! What the hell was Marc doing in my house?”

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