Page 76 of Backdraft
I must've really done a number on myself. No one had told me what had actually happened. Honestly, I hadn't been ready to know until now.
Taylor was gone. The nurse told me he’d been called out, and I was glad that he was getting back to work. I felt guilty the way he had taken time to stay by my side. But then I would have done the same for him. This incident had given me some clarity about our relationship.
The nurse, Paula, came in. She was in her fifties. She'd told me that but wouldn't narrow down an actual age. I liked her, and we had some good chats while she tended my burn. We talked almost like friends, although I was careful not to dive too deep into my past.
"It's that time again."
"Ugh, nothing personal, but I dread this."
"I know you do, but soon this will be a thing of the past. Are you going to watch today? Or should I set up the pillow wall?" She chuckled
We got along well, so when I gave her a withered look, she just laughed.
"Maybe don't bother with the pillow wall today. I'll just turn my head if I have to."
"Now that's my brave girl." She sounded proud and it warmed my heart.
I laughed this time. "I'm so much older than a girl."
I bit my lower lip and watched her unwrap the gauze. This was definitely not as exciting as unwrapping gifts Christmas morning.
Paula glanced at me. "Okay?" I nodded and closed my eyes for a moment. "There, the bandage is off if you want to see."
Did I want to see? I couldn't understand my hesitation. Seriously, I've seen so much worse than a burned arm.
"Uhm, maybe…"
"Have you given much thought as to why this traumatized you so?" She asked.
I shook my head. Maybe I needed to figure it out. I still hadn't looked at my arm, but I took a deep breath and turned my head.
When I saw my raw flesh, I choked back a sob. It was horrible.
"It's okay, sweetie. Good for you for finally looking at it." Her voice was soft and caring.
With the wrapping removed, I felt air against my ruined skin. It was an unusual sensation. "How bad was it when I came in?"
"Worse than this. You've healed quickly and are very lucky. You’ll likely only have a faint scar in a few places."
As she tended my arm, I forced myself to watch her a few more minutes until my thoughts drifted. I tried to zone out from the pain as she cleaned the skin and applied ointments. I rested my head on the pillow. An image swam just out of my reach, and I doubled down to pull it into focus.
I drew on a memory from my childhood. The fire in our house. I heard the screams and the roar of the flames and smelled the acrid smell of everything burning…including flesh.
Dad! He was on the floor by his chair, not responding to my mom or sister screaming at him. I saw his burned face, his eyes open and mouth wide as if he were wailing in pain. A melting blob of a candle was beside him and flames raced up the curtains. He'd set the place on fire!
I jolted out of the memory and startled Paula, making her jump.
"Good Lord, are you trying to frighten the life out of me?" She held her hand at the base of her throat.
"I'm sorry, but I had a memory flash back at me. Something I don't think I remembered before."
"Do you want to tell me?" She placed her hand on my knee.
"Yes, I do."
I repeated to her what I'd seen. “I was only a child when fire killed my father. We'd all been in bed when the smoke detector went off. I was terrified as Mom dragged my sister and I down the stairs. Flames filled the hall and the kitchen. It consumed the living room where Dad always watched TV.”
I paused and looked at Paula. "Dad was already dead. Seeing him that way was horrifying. He'd fallen asleep in the chair with a cigarette that started it all. I think I blamed him for trying to kill us all."
