I got the box down for her. “For real, do you have a minute?”
She set the box down on a counter attached to the wall. “Of course. You okay?”
Refusing to break Blue’s trust in me, I asked, “Do you think, umm, Blue may have, umm, been through, er, other stuff, too?” Someone had to know, right?
Harmony pulled in a deep breath, already nodding. “Unfortunately, yes. She is seeing a counselor.”
My body almost caved forward. “Oh, thank goodness. You’ve got this.”
She beamed at me. “What a caring kid you are, Johnny. She is lucky to have you as a friend. Anything else you need to tell me about Blue?”
“Ask her how she feels about the kitchen.”
As soon as Blue told Harmony she loved to cook, Blue became her mini-me. She looked adorable with dough splattered on her new glasses, smiling so big. Blue found something that made her sparkle and it reminded me of the dancing stars in the rain, shower, and teardrops I’d glimpsed in others. I think that is another reason why the kitchen fire was so tragic. She hadn’t meant for it to happen. She was building some of the best memories she’d ever had.
Ethan and I were playing an old Xbox game in his room when we heard the screams.
Ethan dropped his controller and shot to his feet. I followed, sparing a quick, wordless glance before we both bolted toward the bedroom door. Dale, not home from work yet, had us running even faster to help with whatever was happening. I sucked air into my lungs, hoping no one was hurt.
Once entering the kitchen, Harmony was trying to catch up to a panicked Blue, who was waving her burning glove around, desperate to remove it so her skin wouldn’t singe. Little droplets of flames were falling, some starting more little fires as she backed away from the stove.
I was about to step forward to help Harmony, but what happened next took us all by surprise. Ethan roared, “Nooooo!” He then rushed forward and barehandedly snatched off the glove from Blue’s hand. He proceeded to fight ghosts that only he could see, swinging wild arms at imaginary foes. I wasn’t sure if he realized that he still clutched the oven mitt. When the burning glove melted a portion of his skin, his spirit melted too. I saw the horror and pain etched into his face. He became lost between past and present pain. Ethan couldn’t seem to fathom he was here with us, not with whoever had tragically abused him.
Rage also had him burning internally. His hands punched the air, frantic to defend himself from an attack that wasn’t happening. Locked inside his mind, he couldn’t seem to break free. Mixing bowls, measuring cups, spoons, and other baking items flew through the air, shattering and scattering wherever they landed.
Seeing his mind was lost, Harmony hovered over Blue to shield her, together crouching in a corner. Her arms surrounded her in a fierce barrier even as her face betrayed the sorrow she felt in doing so.
Sarah and Caleb ducked as more items soared to crash in the doorway where they had just appeared, hearing the ruckus.
Gage darted past them, quick to grab a dish towel and start whacking at the few little fires that had started. “Ethan! Dude! Breathe!”
Ethan kept screaming, spit flying as he raged on, swiping items from countertops. He didn’t return to us. He wouldn’t be able to on his own, I realized.
I had to do something. He was going to hurt someone or himself. Suddenly, I thought of my special friend, always promising she’s with me, and how it offered such comfort.
A knee-jerk reaction had me run up behind Ethan and wrap an arm around his neck, forcefully pulling backward. I promised, “It’s me. I’m with you, my friend. It’s me.”
I don’t think he could hear me at first. I think he was blinded by a sadness so deep only another damaged soul could reach.
My other arm wrapped around his chest for a better hold. “Ethan, I’m here. You’re safe. I’m with you.”
Fear can make some people weak. It can also offer practically unmatched strength. I had to dig deep to muster enough power to overtake him. I let my sinner ways erupt. I allowed my hunger for revenge to rise. I grunted as I pulled even harder, the whole time promising, “I’m with you.” I thought of Dad and how he wanted to fight for his… “My brother. I won’t let you go.”
We slammed into a tall wall cabinet, then rolled along it until crashing into a corner, my back to the wall. Instinct had me kicking his feet out from under him so we could fall to the floor. “Ethan, I’m with you?—”
Bam! We were on the floor. His back expanded against my chest as he fought for air. Sitting between my legs, I had mine up and over his. “You’re my brother.” In his ear I insisted, “I’m with you.”
His hands gripped my jeans in fright, as his legs moved under mine.
“You’re my brother now. I’m with you.”
His fight eased.
“Trust what you’re feeling. You’re not alone,” I swore.
His fists opened.
“That’s right. I’m here.”
