Page 102 of The Secret to Belonging

your mother screamed for your brother

opened the door

fed the fire with oxygen and heroism and fear

your father

rolled her in a blanket

saved her life

your brother broke a basement window

ran half naked down the street

in flames

your ear presses against the phone

but

your father’s voice floats in space

you listen

but

find yourself trying to translate

failing

no vocabulary for the words he speaks

intensive care

burn unit

surgery

critical condition

you don’t want this in your brain

vowels

consonants

syllables

sounds

the language of tragedy

pollutes you

a total loss, your father says

the house?