Halting and Melting

The air is full of smoke.

For a few seconds, you think about telling Kate she can just leave you here, but she’s already parking the car. She opens her door and gets out. “Come on,” she says, and opens yours too.

As you climb out of the car, you realize two things very quickly:

1) Kate parked right in front of a NO PARKING sign, and

2) there’s a cop watching you.

And also, 3) the cop is coming right over.

“Hey,” the cop says to Kate. “Twenty minutes, or until we need that space. Got it?”

Kate nods. “Got it, thanks.”

An ambulance rushes past, lights and sirens blaring.

It should be really easy for you to walk 150 feet and go around the corner onto Anglesey Street and see which building is actually on fire, but you’re afraid. You can feel the heat from here.

The cop looks at you, frozen on the pavement. “You just gonna stand there?” she asks. A small part of your brain notices that she’s pretty, but you tell it to shut up.

“I…” you say. “It’s… it’s just… could… could you tell me which building is on… is on fire?”

“518,” the cop says.

You slump, eyes squeezed shut. “I was afraid of that,” you say quietly. Next to you, Kate takes your hand in hers.

You’ve had fantasies about holding hands with Kate for about as long as you’ve had fantasies about fucking her. None of those fantasies involved your apartment building burning down.

When you open your eyes again, the cop is looking at you with a very sympathetic expression. “I’m really, really sorry,” she says gently.

“Thank you,” you manage.

“Do you have a place to stay?” the cop asks.

For a fraction of a second, terror surges through you with the realization that you’re now HOMELESS oh god you’re going to end up living on the street, and starving, and freezing to death in winter… although it’s only for a fraction of a second, because you’re not broke, you have a decent job, you have some savings, you have pretty good insurance.

“You can stay with me,” Kate tells you firmly.

The cop blinks. “Oh, are you two not – uh…”

“Friends,” you say. “We work together.”

“Ah,” the cop says. Kate squeezes your hand.

“Can I go look?” you ask.

“The not-knowing was the worst part, eh?” the cop says, and you nod. She pats you on the shoulder. “Go ahead. Just stay on the other side of the street.”

Smoke and flames are pouring out all the windows of your building, and you can tell it’s a total loss. You stare at it for a moment, shivering. Kate puts her arm around your waist.

Then another cop comes over to you. This one’s a guy.

“No loitering, please,” he says. “Move along.”

“That’s my building,” you tell him quietly. “I live on the third floor.”

“Ah,” he says. “Sorry. It’s not looking good. You’d better find another place to spend the night. You can come back tomorrow and see if there’s anything you can salvage.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

The cop walks away. “You ready to go?” Kate asks you.

“Um… actually, hold on a moment…”

You look around until you spot, at the far end of the block, a cluster of people.

“Come on,” you tell Kate. “I want to see my neighbors,” and you set off in their direction.

“Oh! Uh, okay,” Kate says, and hurries after you.

There are a few dozen people in the cluster, and you realize the ading buildings must have been evacuated also.

“Eleanor?” you call out. Kate’s eyebrows go up.

“Jacob!” you hear in reply, and then Eleanor rushes over to you and hugs you. “I was worried about you!” There are tears in her eyes.

Just like Kate, Eleanor is one of your main jackoff fantasies. In the past, when she’s hugged you, you had to concentrate on not getting an erection – you didn’t want to offend her – but under the circumstances, that’s not a problem.

“What happened?

“Larry fell asleep smoking,” she says. “Fucking Larry.”

“Fucking Larry,” agree Ahmed and Mrs. Rosemary from the second floor.

You’ve never learned Larry’s last name (although you know it begins with “T”, and you’re 90% confident he’s of Germanic descent), but of all the neighbors you’ve had in all the places you’ve lived, the 75-year-old was the worst for a whole bunch of reasons that would make you angry to think about.

“That was him in the ambulance?”

Eleanor nods. “Everyone else got out okay, I think. Or they weren’t here.”

You realize Kate is standing right next to you, and watching you and Eleanor with a perturbed expression.

“Oh, um, Kate, this is my friend Eleanor –”

“– Rodriguez, from across the hall,” Kate says along with you.

You blink. “Uh, yes. Eleanor, this is my –”

“– coworker Kate Prasad,” Eleanor says along with you.

The two women look at each other. “Jacob talks about you a lot,” they both say. It’s almost funny, except for how Eleanor has been crying and your apartment building is on fire.

They look at each other for a few more seconds, then Eleanor holds out her hand.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she says glumly.

Kate reaches out and shakes it. “Likewise. Do you… have somewhere to stay?” she asks, clearly uncomfortable.

Eleanor nods. “My sister’s place.”

“How far is that?” Kate asks.

“About four and a half miles. Sixteen stops on the 59.”

“Want a ride?”

Eleanor looks startled. You assume you do too.

“Yes, please,” she says. “That’s very kind of you to offer,” and then she picks up her backpack and follows you and Kate all the way back to the other end of Anglesey, and around the corner to Kate’s car.

The pretty cop is waiting there. “Good timing,” she tells Kate. “Two and a half more minutes and I would’ve had to give you a ticket.” Then she looks at you and Eleanor. “You found your…?”

“Friend from across the hall, yeah. Thanks.”

The cop purses her lips. “I see,” she says.

“Oh, um, the other cop said I could come back tomorrow and, uh, see if there’s anything salvageable? And take pictures for the insurance?”

“Yeah?”

“Is there a time we should do that?”

She shrugs. “The earlier, the better. I’ll be on duty here from seven to twelve thirty.”

“Um, okay, I’ll… I guess I’ll see you then.”

The cop beams. “Sure!” she says. “Also, I’ll need to see some ID.”

Eleanor stiffens. “Right now?!” she protests.

“Oh!” the cop says. “No, no! I mean, tomorrow, before I let you go in there!”

“Might as well get it over with,” Kate says. She pulls out her wallet and extracts her driver’s license, which she es to the cop.

The cop reads it and hands it back. “You got anything that says you live in Marklin?” she asks gently.

Kate winces. “Oh. Duh. Sorry.”

After a moment of nervous rummaging in her backpack, Eleanor’s able to produce two separate forms of photo ID that both have her current (current until today, anyway) address. You, however, are not, because most of your suitable documents are (were) in your apartment and have most likely been incinerated.

You start to apologize for not having been organized enough to have all your ID with you.

“It’s fine,” the cop says in a very kind tone. “Really.” She turns to Eleanor. “Eleanor Rodriguez, do you vouch that this guy – what’s your name?”

“… I’m Jacob Carter.”

“ – do you vouch that Jacob Carter lived across the hall from your apartment at 518 Anglesey?”

Eleanor nods.

“Say it, please?” the cop asks.

“I, Eleanor Gertrude Rodriguez Villalobos, do hereby vouch that until today, this man, Jacob R. Carter, lived, and has lived, in apartment number 11, on the third floor of 518 Anglesey Street, across the hall from my apartment which was number 10 in the aforementioned building. So help me God.”

The cop looks a little surprised, but then she chuckles. “Good enough,” she says. “It was good to meet you, Jacob. See you tomorrow.”

You feel the impulse to point out that you’ve told her your name but she hasn’t told you hers, but you can tell Eleanor is nervous.

“Let’s head out?” you suggest to her and Kate, and the three of you climb into the car and drive off.