Misdirection by Gregory Ashe

Author:Gregory Ashe [Ashe, Gregory]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gregory Ashe
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 21

THE BENTON PARK HOUSE was a burned-out shell: two of the brick walls still standing, the fire escape blackened and drooping like a burnt chicken wing, soot-stained rafters collapsing to drag the remaining asphalt shingles down and in. A ribbon of caution tape fluttered in the occasional eddy. The air smelled like fire, obliterating the normal aroma of hops and malt, but this wasn’t a good, clean woodsmoke. This was the smell of a fire that had eaten through textiles, electronics, wiring, plaster, fiberglass insulation—a greasy, chemical residue to every breath that made North want to take a shower, even though it was barely eight, and the Sunday morning promised a perfect day.

Pari was crying softly; the bindi was a 90s shade of purple today. Truck was crying loudly. Hir huge shoulders went up and down with sobs, and Pari was holding hir as though ze were a child. Zion’s dark eyes were dry, but he kept taking off his headband and retying it, and his gaze never settled anywhere long. Shaw, balanced on one tumbled-down wall, was picking through ash and debris. He held up a piece of wood that had been chewed by fire and considered it. Then he tossed it over his shoulder. The clatter of wood against brick startled Pari; the only other sound came from old Mrs. Romero, who was trying to clean ash from the gutter with a rake, the tines scraping against the concrete in shrill, rattling strokes.

“North!” Shaw stood up quickly, almost lost his balance, and windmilled to steady himself.

North picked a path across the rubble to join him.

“Emery survived!” Shaw held up the elbow-macaroni figurine. “Well, the part of him Celia didn’t break. I think it’s a sign.”

“Is it a sign that he’s such an unstoppable asshole that I’ll never get him out of my life?”

But Shaw was staring at the pasta figurine. His eyes were dry. His face was clear. He was swimming in a gray Chouteau College hoodie that North had given him, sleeves cuffed to the elbow, and the too blue, too stiff jeans from the Dollar General. The pair of old Adidas were North’s too. And North thought about all the caftans and tunics and peasant blouses and clogs, and he had to look down the street for a few breaths. He settled for fixing a glare on Mrs. Romero, that nosy bitch, who had given up all pretense with the rake and was now staring at them openly.

“Why don’t we go visit them for a few days?” North said when he trusted his voice again. “Get away from this shit. You can hang out with your best friend Emery, and I’ll get a motel room and practice drowning myself in a stranger’s toilet, which would be moderately more fun than having to listen to him talk about the history of treacle or whatever the fuck he was going on about last time.”

“The history of treacle-related tooth problems,” Shaw said absently. Then, looking up, he said, “North, I don’t think this was Ronnie.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.