01.05.06
“What the hell was that?” shouted Emma, jumping up in surprise. Chuck and Robert ran to the door, and looked around frantically.
A thick cloud of smoke was blackening the sky over the barbeque pit.
“Call the fire department,” Chuck shouted as he ran towards the fire. Robert ran at his heels, showing surprising speed for a man of his years.
A small crowd had gathered near the fire, some passing around fire extinguishers, fighting the surprisingly small blaze. One of the freestanding barbeques was blazing merrily away, chunks of metal surrounding it in a small circle, tossed there by the explosion. Weak smoke drifted up from these pieces, still smoldering. In the distance Chuck could hear the sirens of the fire truck, drawing closer.
“What the hell happened?” Chuck asked the crowd. Most of them shrugged. Prescott Freeman shuffled over, still in his slippers, housecoat drawn tight against the breeze. He was by far the oldest inhabitant of the park, in terms of both age and time spent living there. He had been the very first person to move into the park upon it’s opening, taking the trailer nearest the barbeque pit, due to his fondness of smoked ribs. It was said that he hadn’t aged a day in the passing years. He had moved in looking as old as hell, and had stayed the same way. Nobody knew what he did before he moved there, or what he did for money, but every month he paid his rent, and every week a big truck dropped off groceries for him.
“One of the tanks blew,” he said.
“What did you see,” asked Chuck sharply. Prescott drew back slightly, feeling rebuked. “Sorry, sorry,” Chuck said. “I’m just freaked out by the explosion. Please, what did you see?”
Prescott seemed to accept this as an apology. “I think someone blew it up. Last night I woke up at three-thirty. I thought I heard some people talking out here. I flipped on the light and looked out, but I didn’t see anyone. It was dead quiet out here, dead quiet. I figured it must have been my overactive imagination, went back to bed.” Chuck and Robert exchanged a quick glance, hearts sinking. “This morning when I got up I came over and checked out the pits here. One of them had some wires hanging down from it. I was just heading over to the office when I heard it blow up.” A strange look crossed his wizened features. “Jesus,” he whispered. “I was standing right in front of it. If it had gone off when I was standing there, I coulda been killed.” It was a shocking revelation for them. Robert went over to him, and took him by the shoulder. “Come on, Prescott,” he said. “Let’s get you out of this cold.” He led him gently towards his trailer.
Emma arrived with the fire trucks, having directed them to the best route through the park. A police car and ambulance trailed behind, responding to the 911 call. The fire crew hopped out of their fire engine red fire engine, and made short work of the remainder of the blaze, quickly smothering the flames. The crowd drifted away, excitement obviously over for the day. The police officers stood in huddled conversation with some firemen. One of the fire men came over to Chuck. “You the owner?” he asked, voice rough with years of fighting fires.
“Yes, how can I help you?”
“I just wanted to let you know how lucky you are. It looks like the propane tank was basically empty; otherwise the explosion would have been much bigger.” He pointed at the row of trailers closest to the pits. “It could have taken out some of those trailers, had it been full.”
“Did you find anything suspicious?” Chuck asked casually.
The fireman’s eyes narrowed. “We weren’t looking for anything. Should we have?”
Chuck shrugged. “I just don’t understand why the tank would blow up like that. They are supposed to be safe, right?” Chuck knew the tanks were all up to code, he had seen the paperwork.
“Should we check into it?” asked the fireman. “We can get out a forensics team,” suggested the fireman.
Chuck considered. He was positive the promised ones were behind this. Proving it would be far more difficult. Maybe there would be something in the remains, some clue. Chuck nodded. “That might be a good idea after all,” he said. The fireman turned around and pulled a walkie talkie from his belt. He spoke into it for a few minutes and went to speak to the policemen, still waiting by their cruiser. The nodded and busily started to tape off the area, using the horribly bright yellow “Do not cross” tape, familiar to Chuck from Toronto crime scenes. The fireman returned to Chuck.
“Okay, the police and fire department will send some people out, probably this afternoon. Just make sure no one messes around with the scene.” He gathered up his men, and they drove off. The police officers finished yellowing the scene, and followed the firemen out. Chuck and Emma stood, looking at the smoldering remains.
“What do you think happened?” asked Emma.
“I think it was a message from the Promised Ones.”
“I had almost forgotten about them,” said Emma.
“I think they wanted us to. I have been too busy to check the fences, and I don’t know if anyone is doing rounds at night.” He walked over to the remains of the barbeque, standing just outside the boarder flimsily enforced by the police tape. “Had that been a full tank, people could be dead.” Emma came and stood beside him.
“No one died,” she said. “No one was even hurt.”
“Not yet,” said Chuck. He noticed a trail of black ash leading away from one of the pits. He walked over to take a closer look. Two pair of footprints were visible in the dirt, blackened and charred remains of summertime campfires now reconfigured as evidence. They were pointed in the direction of the forest. Chuck backed away, feeling his anger rise. He turned to look at Emma.
“Looks like we have a break in the fence,” he said, looking towards the forest.
“You should tell the police about it,” Emma said. “Let’s get back to the office and wait for the police. It’s getting cold.” They walked in silent contemplation back to the office.
Robert came back a few minutes later.
“How is he doing?” asked Emma.
“He’s fine. He’s just resting now. A little shaken up, but fine. I will talk to the guys about increasing the watch for the next little while. I have a feeling this will not be the last we hear from the Promised Ones.”
The rest of the day passed in a blur for Chuck. Emma had to leave for work shortly after the explosion, leaving Chuck and Robert alone. The two camper vans pulled up in the afternoon, followed shortly by the forensics crew. The dutifully collected evidence, but Chuck got the feeling they were just going through the motions.
“We’ll do the best we can,” one of them had assured Chuck. “But really, we are looking at destruction of private property, maybe an explosives charge. It’s not really going to be high priority.” Chuck thanked them for their effort nonetheless. Day fell to dusk. Chuck ordered a pizza for dinner.
“Do you still want to go out tonight?” asked Chuck, mouth full of crust and cheese. Robert nodded.
“I don’t think the Promised Ones will try anything again so soon, it’s not in their cowardly style. We should act naturally, pretend that everything is just fine. Besides,” he said picking off a piece of pepperoni and throwing it in his mouth, “I really want to party with Japanese actuaries. How often do you get to do that?”
Chuck agreed with this logic. They closed up the office and went back to their trailers to wait out the night.
