Those Who Favor Fire by Lauren Wolk (no david read aloud TXT) 📗

after a moment or two. “I guess you don’t really need this, now that you’ve claimed your inheritance.” She laid the heavy box on the floor.

“Oh, that,” he said, blowing on his tea. “I’ve already spent most of it.”

“Spent it?” She had always imagined that there was a great deal of money involved, and in this she was right. “For God’s sake, on what?”

“I invested it.”

“Invested it.” She nodded. “So you’ll live off the dividends?”

“No dividends.”

“What the hell did you buy, then?”

“A piece of land,” he said, grinning. “Prettiest land you ever saw.” But he did not tell her where, or why, he had bought it.

She pictured the bald, golden hills of California rolling into the tumultuous sea and could not really fault his impetuosity. But she put the image immediately out of her head. He would tell her about it when he was ready. She would listen when she had to.

“So now you’ll have to work for a living.” She snorted.

“Which I’ve been doing for two years now, going on three,” he said, reaching down to stroke Pal’s ears. “What’s wrong with that?”

“There’s not a thing wrong with that. Matter of fact, I think that’s great. Better than sitting around, living off the interest like me. Jesus, Joe, you make me feel like a wastrel.”

“Not at all,” he said mildly, sipping his tea. “I’m sure you have all sorts of plans for that money of yours. None of my business, anyway.”

“Damn straight,” she said, bracing her feet against the porch rail, tipping her chair up on its hind legs.

They sat for a while, watching the day go down into dusk. The sky became tarnished, everything colorful bled, and into the still air came the sound of cicadas, like mutant violins.

“I guess it’s time I let you know what’s been happening around here,” Rachel said with a sigh. And told Joe about Caspar’s Hollow.

She told him about the roof jutting up through the gritty soil like the bow of a sunken ship. “It was the strangest thing I’d ever seen,” she said. And she told him how she had unwisely stepped onto the insubstantial ground and nearly been buried alive. “Like Ross.”

Joe didn’t move once as he listened to Rachel tell the story. He pictured her sinking into the earth, the dirt creeping along her body, up her neck, over her lips. Her eyes. He felt sick. He wanted to weep. He could hardly believe it when Rachel then began to talk about the aftermath, as if there was anything left to say except, It’s time to leave.

“A whole bunch of new people arrived a couple of days afterward,” she said, bringing her chair down on all fours. “Government people, scientists, geologists. Same as Mendelson and the rest who’ve been out here before, only now there are more of them and this time they mean business. They didn’t pay too much attention when cows went missing, but a dead man is different.” She bit her lip. “They dug for Ross’s body, but it’s long, long gone. Almost lost someone looking for him, so they quit. They left his house just the way it was when I found it. Nothing much they could do. But up here in town they’ve been going around from house to house, interviewing everybody who will talk to them. They’ve taken a health survey, put together a medical profile—”

“A medical profile?” Joe asked, his skin crawling.

“Seems there’s more cancer in Belle Haven than there should be, according to these new people. But mostly out near the tunnels.”

“And this is news to you?”

Rachel shifted in her chair. “There’s a lot of black lung around here. In the old men. That I already knew. But I didn’t know that there’s more cancer—especially breast cancer—than there ought to be, and I’m not surprised. I mean I’m not surprised that I didn’t know about it. It’s not the sort of thing people talk about. And besides, there still isn’t all that much. It’s the percentage that’s high.”

She paused. He said nothing.

“They’ve also put a monitor in everybody’s cellar,” she went on, not looking at him. “They’re saying that carbon monoxide could kill us in our sleep if we don’t turn them on. They’ve got everybody scared stiff.” She rubbed both eyes with the heels of her hands. “The government has no business here.”

From the hilltop, Joe could see that the sky above the distant fields was tinted with orange.

“There are more hot spots now, Joe,” she said, following his gaze. “All of a sudden.”

“Oh, come on, Rachel. There have been more and more hot spots for months now. But Ross dies and suddenly … there they are! Even Rachel Hearn sees them. That must mean they’re really there. Are you ready to talk about the fire now as if it really does exist? Not just ‘out there’ somewhere, but maybe everywhere by now. Do we get to do something, finally, instead of sitting around, knocking our knees, waiting for a sign from God? Which, as far as I’m concerned, you’ve had. Take your pick—rats, fires, sinking houses.” He shook his head at her. “Jesus, Rachel, you’re not stupid. You must have known this would happen sooner or later. You can’t save a town built on top of an inferno.”

She stared at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. This town’s not built on top of the fire. A few houses are. Which is why I—and a lot of other people—aren’t about to panic. Caspar’s Hollow is a good half mile away from here. Maybe the fire’s getting bad out there, but that’s out there. Not here.” She peered into her empty cup. “Even so,” she said, “we’ve decided to buy another fire truck for the town. And if there ever is a problem with gas coming up, those monitors will give warning in plenty of time.”

“And if another house goes down like Ross’s?”

“I can’t see that happening.”

“Oh, I see. You’re the expert now. Then tell me why Ross’s house went down.