Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
I lifted one of the flaps like something might jump out at me.
“Right there. Let’s set off that rocket.” Chad grabbed the big one from the top. “Now …” he glanced around the garage. “Where’s a lighter?”
I knew there was a lighter in the top drawer of dad’s tool bench. He had very few tools, but he had a tool bench. He bought it after we moved to Des Moines. I think it happened shortly after Chief Watts asked him if he had a certain tool because the chief couldn’t find his. My dad had a hammer and maybe two screwdrivers. I think it embarrassed him because, two days later, he bought the tool bench and several hundred dollars’ worth of tools.
“It might be in the top drawer,” I murmured. I wasn’t going to get it. This was all on Chad. At the same time, I was a little curious about the rocket.
Chad opened the top drawer, and sure enough, it was there. He plucked it from its spot. His fingerprints, not mine.
“Come on …” He scuffed his sneakers along the ground to the backyard.
“What if you catch a tree on fire?” I asked.
“The trees are too green to catch on fire. God … you’re so stupid.”
He was right. I was stupid. I was stupid to worry about the trees instead of the houses around us.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” I asked as he set the rocket on the pad of concrete, literally feet from our house.
“Colten, shut up. You’re such a baby.” He lit the fuse, and we skittered back a few more feet as the flame quickly worked its way to the rocket.
Whoosh!
There it went. I had a full two seconds of retreat. For those two seconds, I felt like a baby. A mama’s boy who was too afraid to have a little fun. After all, wasn’t that what boys did? Break a few rules all in the name of fun?
Then … it crashed into the neighbor’s window. The Burmeisters. It was the first time I said the word “fuck” aloud.
“Go! Go! Go!” Chad shoved me toward the garage, and I ran as fast as I could.
“There’s no phone in here!” I said in a panic.
“Shh!” Chad grabbed the box of fireworks and nearly fell off the ladder trying to heave them back into their spot.
“Chad! Their house is on fire! We have to call 9-1-1.”
“So we get into trouble?” He glanced down at me like I was crazy. “Let them call. What’s it matter?”
“What if they’re not home? Mrs. Burmeister is really old. What if she can’t get out of the house? What if the rocket hit her? Oh my god! She could be dead!”
“Shh!” He jumped off the ladder.
“I’m not being quiet. I’m calling for help.” I started toward the door, but Chad grabbed the back of my shirt.
“You can’t.”
Something snapped. This urgency filled my veins, and my fists pounded against my brother until he released me. Then I sprinted inside and called 9-1-1. “Our neighbor’s house is on fire. Come quick!”
“What’s going on?” Mom ran down the stairs.
“Chad set the neighbor’s house on fire! I have to see if Josie’s dad is back home.” I dropped the phone while the 9-1-1 operator was still talking to me.
Just as I crossed the street, Chief Watts pulled into their driveway. He opened his door and stepped out, holding two bags of ice. “Hey, Colten. What’s—”
“The Burmeister’s house is on fire. I … I called 9-1-1.”
He dropped the bags of ice and jogged across the street, past our driveway and through our backyard, hopping the short fence into the Burmeister’s yard as smoke billowed from the broken window.
Chief Watts tried the handle. Then, he broke the window next to the door, kicked the jagged shards of glass with his boot, and slipped into the house. Minutes later, he emerged, coughing a little, and carrying Humphrey, their white cat, just as firetrucks arrived.
“They’re gone.”
My hand covered my mouth.
We killed the Burmeisters. I didn’t do it, but I knew I would get blamed along with Chad. What would happen to us? Did they send young kids to prison?
Chief rested his hand on my shoulder for a second. He must have read my expression. “They’re out of town for the holiday. Josie’s supposed to be feeding their cat.”
I nodded several times. I thought Josie did mention that, but I’d forgotten.
“Take the cat to my house.” He handed Humphrey to me and headed around to the front of the house toward the firetrucks.
“Whoa! What happened?” As I turned around, Josie ran up behind me, mouth agape, eyes on the smoke coming from the window.
I handed her the cat. “Take him. I have to do something.”
“Colten?”
I ignored her as I ran into the garage.
“What is wrong with you?” Mom screamed at Chad. The garage door was open. He was sitting in the driver’s seat of her car. “Why would you do this? Tell me why?” She stopped screaming and fell to her knees with her head on his lap.