Judges

Chapter Twenty Eight

April 1988

I'm sleeping, or getting as close as I can to sleep, on the lumpy couch in the living room. I tuck the pillow in between the cushions and try to straighten my back to become more comfortable. I've slept here for the past week or so, not really sleeping, just dreaming with my eyes open. He can't see me or touch me anyway, I could lay here while he is sitting where my stomach would be and my body would literally go right through his, just like air.

Invisible, untouchable.

But he's asleep now, I don't have to watch him while he is unconscious, that is simply creepy. I would prefer to turn on the television and watch the shows, but I think that will wake him. Arnold is a light sleeper.

I shift and turn to the side and try to sink into the hard couch, but just as I find a comfortable position, something calls me back to consciousness. It's really warm in the apartment. Not just warm... it's abnormally warm, and it's not coming from any heater. The old gas thing couldn't heat the apartment that well, it's near seventy years old.

The heat seems to be coming from the hallway, and I smell something odd.

Something burning.

I run to Arnold, through the door and right to his bedside where he lays tucked under the covers, sound asleep. How is he not awake, it's hot in here. The temperature is rising steadily.

"Arnold," I whisper, trying to will him awake. "Wake up, I think there's a fire. You need to wake up."

He can't hear or feel me.

"Arnold! Arnold James Reidenbacher, wake up!" Not another one.

He twitches and opens his eyes and blinks them. Success.

"Somebody turned on the damn heater again."

"Obviously not, that old thing-" I think to myself.

"No, wha.... Something..." He sits up and looks around, and squints. "Is there something...?"

He stands up and walks to the door of the bedroom, and shakes his head. All of a sudden his eyes widen and he runs to the front door and throws it open to reveal an orange glow at the staircase at the eastern staircase.

"FIRE!" He screams, and the temperature brings my skin and his to a sweat. He sprints down the hall to the western staircase, and a woman from a floor above ours is sprinting down the stairs ahead of us. Fourth floor, third floor, second, ground... we sprint through the building and through the lobby and out into the street where I look up to see the seventh floor ablaze. Someone has opened their window and is shrieking at the top of their lungs, and I can hear a baby's cry.

Arnold stumbles back as he stares into the flames and a firefighter approaches from behind and grabs his shoulder with his glove. Five more sprint into the building, and another truck arrives and begins to spray the fire.

"Sir, is there anyone else in there? Anyone else on your floor? We have to get everyone out!" His gruff voice strikes fear into my heart, and Arnold looks at him.

"No, no one I know except 5C, the girls..."

He lets out a scream, and runs back into the building, while the firefighter chases him.

"No, do not run into the building, you'll get yourself killed! The heaters-"

Arnold is too far to hear the shouts, and I stop to listen to the firemen's conversation.