Rachael Herron - How to Knit a Heart Back Home: A Cypress Hollow Yarn

How to Knit a Heart
Back Home

A Cypress Hollow Yarn

RACHAEL HERRON

Contents

I n the dim light of the bar, Lucy could barely see the sock she was knitting, but it didnt matter. These were bar socks, meant to be knitted in the dark.

This is the best kind of night, said Lucy.

Its dead, said Molly, seated at the next bar stool.

Lucy sighed in happiness and took a sip of what she always ordered, a Manhattan with two cherries, no ice. I know. Just a regular night. Its perfect.

The crash that followed was deafening, the sound ripping through the bar, tearing metal, shattering glass. A hubcap flew in through the open door. It fell to the floor and then rolled and wobbled across the bar, toppling over with a clang at Lucys feet.

Lucy opened her mouth but nothing came out, and Mollys wide eyes met hers. Lucys brother Jonas threw his cloth onto the bar and reached for the phone.

With the other bar patrons, Lucy ran outside. A small blue compact car was crumpled like aluminum foil against a pole. A white car was nose to nose with a fire hydrant and a potbellied older man tried to emerge from the drivers side, saying out his broken window, I didnt see her. I swear I didnt see her. Blood ran down his forehead.

The blue car hissed and spat as the engine protested its demise and a flame growled underneath the chassis of the engine.

A man in a black leather jacket pulled on the handle of the door of the vehicle, trying to wrest it open while the woman inside struggled with the seat belt. She screamed and looked out at them, her eyes wide, her mouth twisted in pain.

Lucys stomach lurched as if she were seasick as she recognized first the car, and then the hair through the broken drivers-side window. Its Abigail. Oh, God, its Abigail MacArthur. We have to get her out of there. Lucy peered through the back window to look for a childs car seat. Do you have Lizzie in there?

Abigail shook her head and said, Shes home. With Cade. She gasped as something under the car made a horrible noise. Please. Get me out.

Lucy looked at the man in the leather jacket fighting with the door handle. Shes pregnant. She glanced over her shoulder at the potbellied man. Were you with that driver? Why are you...

I was going past and saw him T-bone her. The man put his entire body into trying to get the car door open, but the metal was too bent. A crackling sound came from the poles wires, which dangled just above his head.

Lucys brother Jonas, now outside, said, Back, all of you get back. He used his arms and body to push the crowd onto the sidewalk. Lucy! Get away from that car!

The potbellied man who had caused the accident yelled something from behind them about his insurance company.

Fire departments on the way, Lucys mother yelled.

There wont be time, the man in the leather jacket said to Lucy. In a second Im going to need your help. Dont move.

Lucy had no more breath to hold. Under the warped metal at the front of the car, the orange glow of the fire grew brighter.

He jerked his elbow through the rear drivers side window, somehow still intact. Then he reached through and fought with the lock on the door and pulled until the back door popped open.

Dont move her! someone in the crowd yelled. Shes injured!

Leaning into the car, he reached forward and then retreated. I cant, he gasped, putting a hand to his hip as if hed wrenched it. He looked pale and off balance. His eyes met Lucys and her heart skittered into overdrive. Push in, he said. See if you can drop her seat backward. I cant fit in there.

Lucy took a deep breath, like shed done in training exercises. Shed worked car fires before, but never with a person inside, never from this close. It wont explode, right? Her voice shook. They had to hurry.

It wont. Not just like that. Ive seen lots of car fires. You can do it.

Lucy moved forward.

It was hot and loud inside. Lucy leaned in to the backseat area and drove her hand up the side along the front door. She could feel the heat growing beneath the car. What if she got stuck and burned to death along with Abigail? Would it be fast? Would it hurt?

The latch is on the side of the seat, said the man behind her. Feel for it and pull up.

I cant find it! Lucy yelled.

Please, please, please, said Abigail, in a strange, singsong voice.

Hang on, Abigail, weve almost got you, Lucy said.

You can do it. His voice came from behind her shoulder.

There. Lucy could feel the hot plastic under her hand. She pulled and the drivers seat dropped back. Lucy pushed herself out, away from the heat, away from Abigails awful bloodied mouth and panicked eyes.

He said, Okay, now we pull.

Her neck could be broken, you fucking morons! someone yelled.

His voice was low in Lucys ear. I know what Im doing.

Lucy only hesitated for a split second as a tendril of fear bloomed in her heart. Moving Abigail was against all her training. They had no backboard. No C-spine.

But then something gave a loud boom underneath the car, and it got suddenly hotter. Lucy helped him, dragging Abigail over the top of her seat, being as careful of her stomach as they could be. They wrestled her out of the car and moved her toward the sidewalk. Lucys younger brother Silas was now next to them, holding Abigail by the legs.

As they set Abigail safely on the ground in front of the bar, the car went from glowing underneath, a flicker or two licking the front end, to completely engulfed in flames, erupting into a fireball. The heat drove the crowd back even farther, some people retreating back inside the bar to peek out the windows.

Lucy heard the sirens coming. She saw the flashing lights reflecting against windows even before her fellow volunteers made the turn onto Main.

The same drunk guy whod called them morons for moving the woman was babbling, They saved her. She woulda gone up in flames...

Abigail was crying now, weeping.

Lucy felt a sob rising in her own chest that she wouldnt give in to. Molly stopped digging her fingers into Lucys arm and moved to clutching her hand. You saved her. You saved her.

Lucy could only stare.

She watched them move Abigail into a stable position. Her brother Silas used his arms to steady her head, one hand over her forehead to keep her from lifting it to look around. The man in the leather jacket moved his hands over her body as if looking for the source of the bleeding.

God. It couldnt be him, could it?

And just like that, it came back to her. Owen Bancroft. The man she thought shed never see again. Holy hell.

Where had he come from? Lucy looked down the street, and her eyes closed in on it as if drawn by magnets: that damn blue Mustang was parked over by the art-supply shop. So he still had that car. She wasnt even really surprised.

Paramedics moved in and loaded Abigail into the ambulance.

Captain Jake Keller and some of the local volunteer fire brigade extinguished the blazing car. The street went dark as they shut down electricity to the pole. The only light now was from the moon and the lights on the firefighters helmets. The salty smell of the Pacific mixed with the metallic smell of the charred car.

Lucy couldnt take her eyes off Owen. He stood with Silas, shoulder to shoulder, their backs to the crowd. They watched the ambulance tearing up Oak Street toward the hospital, siren whooping.