Maybe I shouldn't've.
— She Who Did
Until I could get out of Wanatah for good, I was doing as much as I could to save money. Mostly legit. That meant working as many shifts as they'd give me at The Brass Buckle.
I was there the last time Butch came in. I didn't know what was wrong, but I could tell he wasn't right.
Billy was working the bar, and he wouldn't serve him because he could tell too.
Butch was a townie with an attitude. He'd recently been dumped by one of the other bartenders at the Buckle. Mary Jane. She'd had enough of his shit, and she wasn't the first.
He was making his usual fuss about how awful people are, and he muttered something about MJ as Billy showed him the door. Billy didn't seem concerned, but I was.
There had been a fire in town a few years earlier. Actually, two, but the first was nothing and the second barely raised eyebrows. Well, there were whispers that it wasn't an accident, but nobody knew anything for sure and even fewer wanted to speculate. It was at Angie's house. She was Butch's girlfriend at the time.
At first, everybody thought it was a chimney fire. I was suspicious, but you've gotta really know before accusing somebody of that. Plus, I used the fire as a distraction while I let myself into a few of the neighbors' homes, so it wasn't like I could point fingers.
This was different. MJ had a kid. I'd seen her in a sorry state after her shift at the Buckle, and then Butch showed up in a rage. I couldn't help wondering, but I didn't want to say it, so I told Billy I had to leave early.
Billy didn't need me working there anyway. He only hired me to be kind. And because I walked in on him in a compromising position with his then-girlfriend's daughter, but she was of age, so why should I care?
By the time I got out of the bar, it was too late to follow Butch from a distance. I hoped I was wrong, but I had a good guess where he was going.
I'm rarely wrong about these things.
I got to MJ's house and everything was dark, except for a lamp by one of the upstairs windows. I was about to walk away when I saw a flicker of light in the living room, downstairs. And then another. It was a different kind of light.
Then I saw her kid in the window upstairs.
I looked at the living room window again and I saw it.
Fire.
Butch's car was nowhere to be found.
I ran to the door but it was locked, so I smashed the dining room window. Cut my hand up pretty good too, and tore my jacket while jumping through.
The fire was bad. It was mostly in the living room, but it was moving fast through the curtains and smoke was already getting thick. I grabbed the afghan off the couch and tried smacking out the flames, but that was useless. Why the fuck do people think it's a good idea to knit a blanket with holes? Goddamn.
I couldn't put the fire out, so I ran up the stairs to get her kid. The first bedroom I passed was MJ's. She was sprawled across the floor. I guess the smoke got to her, because she was gone. I ran into her kid's bedroom and I grabbed him.
"I'm a friend of your mom's," I said. "I'm Dandy. We gotta go. Take my hand, OK? I need ya to watch your feet as we go. Don't look anywhere but your feet."
I didn't want him to see what I saw. No matter what, this night was gonna stay with him forever. No good could come from him seeing his mom like that.
"C'mon now! Gotta go!"
I tried to stay on his right side as we went down the hall, so he couldn't see into her room, and I led him through the smoke, down the stairs.
"Gotta go, gotta go. You're doin' so good. Don't look anywhere but your feet 'cause I don't want you to trip, OK?"
I also didn't want him to see how bad the fire was, but by the time we got halfway down the stairs, it was everywhere. We had to go through it.
He stopped and grabbed the railing.
I said, "C'mon! We gotta go!!!"
"I can't," he wailed. "I CAN'T!!!"
"Yeah, you can. You and me. We can do it! We're goin' straight to the door. Then we're gonna roll in the yard, OK? Get to the grass. Drop and roll. We can do this!"
"Where's mom???"
"Fuckin' A, kid!!! RUN!!!"
I felt so bad as I yanked him away from that railing, but we couldn't wait any longer. I pulled him down the rest of the stairs and through the foyer. The flames were eating up the carpet and the walls, but we made it through. It was bad, but we got out.
We were rolling in the yard when the neighbors came running over. Those bastards were asking where his mom was before I knew if our clothes were on fire.
"I got him out," I said, in a desperate attempt to shut them the mother fuck up.
"Where's Mary Jane?"
"She's upstairs."
"Jesus Christ girl!!! You left her in the HOUSE?"
OH. FUCK. YOU.
"I saved the kid's life, asshole!"
Maybe I shouldn't have.
Maybe I should have stayed at The Buckle.
Kid's probably gonna grow up to be arrogant and ungrateful, just like the rest of 'em.