I should have done this from the start. I’m not sure why I didn’t.
Finding Edgar was easy. He was on my pillow, just as I had expected. When I opened my bedroom door, the metallic smell of lake water filled my nose and I gagged. If I never saw the lake again, it would be too soon.
Edgar’s eyes shone as he watched me cling to the doorframe, coughing and hacking. I could have sworn he was smiling at me.
“Go ahead, smile while you still can, you cocksucking mofo,” I growled, using the very best of Sean’s swears. “You and me are done.”
I threw a garbage bag over Edgar before I could second-guess myself. This time he fought like a wildcat, kicking and clawing and growling. Scratches and then holes appeared in the bag, which was thrashing around so much I had a hard time holding it. I’d come prepared, though, and threw the bag with Edgar into another, stronger bag.
I think he knew it was over. He was fighting for his life.
Edgar howled, a sickening sound that twisted my insides into knots. I paused for a moment, worried. Surely my mom would hear him, and then what? What could I possibly tell her? But no one came.
I slipped out the door, carrying the bag. The bag, and a metal container of lighter fluid in one of my pockets. Several books of matches were in the other. I wasn’t taking any chances.
Like most houses in town, we had a burning barrel in the backyard. We burned what trash we could at home to save on trips to the dump. I should have used it a long time ago, except…
I guess there was a part of me that shied away from burning something that seemed to be alive, even an evil bear like Edgar.
I threw everything into the barrel—the bag of mess from the tub and the bag with the bear, which was still going crazy. The adrenaline racing through my body made me shaky, but I managed to empty the entire can of lighter fluid over the bags. My trembling fingers struck a match. It briefly flared to life, but then went out. That was okay. I had more where that came from, and I knew where Mom kept Dad’s old Zippo.
The back door creaked open. “Josh, what on earth are you doing? You’re not supposed to…”
Woosh! The book of matches in my hand caught fire, and I tossed them into the burning barrel. Flames burst high into the sky, and I fell backward onto the grass. It was over. It was finally over.
Mom ran from the house to help me. “Are you okay?”
I couldn’t help smiling at her. “I’m great.”
The fire roared and crackled, sending a shower of sparks sizzling to the ground. Mom pulled me to my feet. Once she had us safely out of range, she turned on me.
“You know I don’t like you fooling around with matches, Joshua Leary. What on earth did you put in there?”
I shrugged. “Just some garbage.”
I was having a nightmare. Someone was screaming. Mom! Mom was screaming.
My eyes flew open, but I immediately shut them again. The room was thick with smoke that stung my eyes and hurt my nostrils. I wheezed. I could hear an ominous crackling noise that kept getting louder and louder.
Someone pounded hard on my bedroom door, startling me. “Josh! Let us in,” Michael yelled. “Don’t do this, buddy. Let us help you.”
I knew what to do. We’d been over this in school a hundred times. I rolled out of my bed onto the floor. Pain flared up from my hips and knees when I fell, but I didn’t care. I’d realized the awful truth. My bedroom was on fire. I gasped when I saw the planks of wood nailed across my door, trapping me inside. How had Edgar managed that?
I’d been exposed to the smoke for too long already. Black spots swam in front of me. I laid my cheek against the floor, which was surprisingly cool. I closed my eyes.
“Josh, please! I can’t lose you. Please open the door.”
Mom’s voice broke me out of my trance. I began to crawl toward my art table. I could feel the heat on my skin now. I didn’t have much time. I got what oxygen was left in the room by pressing my face against the floor and inhaling as deeply as I could.
At first I was afraid Edgar would have done something to my window too, but it was clear. With my last bit of strength, I threw my desk chair at the glass. The window shattered. I gulped the fresh air gratefully, but I could feel the fire gaining strength right behind me. There was a frightful cracking noise as my door and the floor around it started to give. I couldn’t hear my mom anymore.
I hoped she had gotten out in time.
I leaned out over my window. The driveway pulsed with flashing red lights from the fire trucks. The crimson glow made the faces of the firefighters seem demonic, but I recognized Mr. Gillies, the father of a girl in my class.
“Hang on, Josh,” he yelled. “We’re getting a ladder for you. Just hang on.”
My bedroom door gave with an earsplitting crack. It sounded like it had been hit by a giant’s ax. “Please hurry!” I tried to holler, but it came out as a strangled croak. No one could hear me over the roar of the flames. My eyes and throat burned with the smoke. I started coughing, and it felt like I would never stop.
I could see the firefighters running to my window with a ladder. Mr. Gillies climbed up and stretched out his arms to me. His coat was rough under my hands, but I held on as hard as I could. As we made our way down the ladder, I craned my head to stare at the gathering crowd. Still coughing and choking, I fought for air.
“Take it easy, Josh. You’re safe now,” Mr. Gillies said. He didn’t put me down until he reached the end of the driveway.
“But where’s my mom? My mom is in there!” I started to cry, and for once I didn’t care who saw. I couldn’t lose her after what had happened to Dad.
“Calm down, son. Your mother is fine. She’s right over there.”
I saw her running toward me, Michael close behind. I felt my knees buckle, and another firefighter wrapped a blanket around my shoulders. Even though it was a warm night, I was shivering.
Mom threw her arms around me and crushed me to her, sobbing. I let her hug me, watching in wonder over her shoulders as our family home burned.
“Why did you do it, Josh? Why?”
I pulled away in shock. “What do you mean? I didn’t do anything!”
That’s when I noticed the men. They were standing with Michael, speaking in the low tones adults use when they don’t want you to hear.
“Mom, I didn’t do this, I swear. You have to believe me!”
Tears ran down her face. “It’s my fault. Michael told me you were sick, but I didn’t believe it. I didn’t want to believe it. It’s all my fault, honey. I should have gotten you more help.”
She tried to hug me again, but I pushed her away, which only made her cry harder. “I’m not sick. I didn’t do anything wrong!” I tried to run away, but it was too late. The men surrounded me.
“Josh, you need to come with us for a bit, all right?” one of the men said. He knelt so he was at my eye level and smiled. “Don’t worry. We need to take you to the hospital for a bit, make sure you’re okay.”
I didn’t think. I just reacted. My fist shot out, and I punched that nice man in the face. I got halfway down the street before the men caught up to me. They hauled me back to the driveway while I kicked and screamed. They put me in a van with metal mesh on all the windows. I couldn’t open the door from the inside, but I pounded on the glass.
“Mom, don’t let them take me! It wasn’t me. It was the bear! It was Edgar—”
And that’s when I saw him.
My mother was huddled on the driveway, covering her face with her hands. Some of our neighbors were trying to help her stand, to pick her off the ground, but Michael wasn’t paying any attention to them.
He was stroking something he held close to his chest under his coat. Cradling something.
I saw familiar yellow eyes glow in the night.
Edgar grinned at me.