Out of the Ashes pt 2

Watermark / Art Garfukel









“You bought the damn car, not my fault it don’t have a VIN number.”



I hear the words like I am standing at the scene. The man was dirty, inside and out. Smug. He’d known the car was hot and that Randy would never be able to register it when Randy had forked over the 2 grand.


It was all around a bad situation. Randy was an idiot. He’d bought enough cars, he should have known. Not to mention, at that point everyone, but apparently me, knew that if you dealt with a Bosie brother it was a shady deal.


What Randy was thinking for any part of this would eternally be unclear. Yet there we were, Zach, Randy, me, standing around a parking lot with Randy whining that the car couldn’t be registered and what was he going to do? Boise arrogantly pointing out it was a case of buyer beware.


Anger and frustration caused me to intercede. It surprised everyone there, but when the explosion happened, he happened with vengeance. I cringe at the memory, though I never have remembered what I said to Boise and neither Zach nor Randy would tell me, albeit for different reasons. I do remember it was threatening. Zach laughed about it for years later.


“Damn Q, that was f***ing stupid, but ballsy, I’ll give you that.” And he’d laugh for a full minute, always refusing to tell me exactly what I’d said. Though I never forgot it was Zach who pulled me away, not Randy. It was Zach who physical held me off, who cooed in my ear that this Neanderthal would think nothing of hurting me, if not now, later and was a car worth it? It wasn’t even my car.


******


A loud snap from the fire brought my attention back to the present as I watched another beam collapse and a new spray of sparks shoot towards the sky. The volunteers now simply spraying down the grass around the structure so the fire wouldn’t spread.


“I still can’t believe he married Miss. Lennox.” Leah shook her head. “I mean, besides the fact that she was our English teacher, she was always so romantic and poetic. I can’t imagine …” Leah’s voice trailed off as she shook her head.


“Zach could be very sweet.” I shrug, avoiding the real nature of her question.


“He was always handing you a comb and telling you to tuck in your shirt.” Leah grimaced.


“And didn’t I always need to comb my hair and tuck in my shirt?” I laughed.


“Not the point.” She smiled at me.


“Zach never forgot my birthday or Valentine’s day and we weren’t even going out.” I say defensively.


“No,” she snorts, “he was too busy dating our English teacher.” She rolls her eyes at me and returns her stare at the fire.