The Coriander Fire
By Max Burstein
The sun, it seemed, stood still in the
sky for hours that Sunday afternoon over the shingled roofs of the Al Alcion
gated community. The fire had been full ablaze now since sun up and the lack of
cool night-time air was leaving the poorly established Community Rescue
Organization thoroughly distressed. That was not to mention the fire which
showed no evident signs it would be stopping its alliance with the wind in
passing from house to house, lane to lane, leaving little but the charred
remains of material possessions and the occasional pieces of pottery and
cookware.
All
of the town gathered outside, some still in their satin sleeping robes, to
watch the blaze spread. While many of the women cried and held their young
children as close as one would a pacifier, the men stood glued to their cell
phones calling lawyers, insurance brokers, or anyone who could offer them some
consolation from what seemed the inevitable loss of all they had worked for and
held dear.
ÒWhy
isnÕt anyone coming to help?Ó The same cry came in many different forms from
the inhabitants of Al Alcion .The neglect, however, was not all that surprising
considering Al AlcionÕs distance from any major cities, more importantly fire
departments near it.
Seven
hours later the sun had set and help from the Amberland Fire Department had
finally arrived. The damage had been surprisingly moderate considering the time
with which the fire was allowed to roam free, but the commotion caused by the
spectacle was enough to serve its purpose in the first place.
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At
a bus station some miles from Al Alcion the Coriander children sat bickering.
ÒThatÕs quite enough of that,Ó Margaret
harped, her dark brown eyes casting waves on GulliverÕs far fairer blue ones.
ÒThereÕs really nothing to be done about it now anyways.Ó
Gulliver
sensed that this was not the time to disrupt Margaret from whatever was
occupying her mind and so he retreated back into his leather-bound novel,
letting out only a casual ÒHmÓ of acknowledgment.
As
the Coriander children waited for their bus to arrive, the residents of Al
Alcion began the effort to clear the wreckage left in the fireÕs wake. They
started where the blaze had begun in the early morning hours; just before the
sun and faint smoke smell had stirred them from their sleep. They started at 12
Dias Drive. What they found there was similar to what was found later at all
the other homes lost to unforgiving blaze. There were scattered documents, some
completely scorched, others half or quarter burned. There were picture frames
now empty, and dishes, and warped spoons and knives sitting on top. What was
peculiar, however, about 12 Dias Drive was three skeletal remains. One had been
discovered downstairs in the living room right near the door. This one was
smaller than the other two and upon first glance was most obviously that of the
family cat. The other two skeletons were more important and they sat side by
side in the largest of the upstairs rooms, or what remained of its structural
integrity. These were large and clearly that of full-grown adults. These
remains were that of Mr. And Mrs. Coriander.
Margaret was the older of the two
Coriander children and while she was only seventeen, she possessed an heir of
wisdom and sturdy confidence far beyond that of her peers. More often than not
when the Coriander's had been heard discussing their daughter at the social
soirees they frequented, it was to mention the new language she had casually picked
up or full-length play she had written in the plentiful free time she had while
breezing through hr courses with all AÕs. Margaret, who was initially reserved
in her achievements, ultimately began to bask in the limelight cast upon her by
the adoring elders in her life, and this left a perfect place for Gulliver to
remain reclusive from the outside world; just the way he liked it.
Gulliver was the youngest in the
Coriander family at 14, but judging by his accomplishments in the sciences,
particularly that of engineering, no one would have held that against him. Ever
since anyone in the Coriander family could remember, Gulliver had been quite
fond of reading and engaging himself in studious endeavors; taking any minor
assignment from the academy he attended and turning it into a full-scale
project. While Gulliver was well spoken and amiable, he had never taken great
interest in the social networks he saw forming around him and found reclusion
in his independence and singularity.
The only person other than himself he felt he could confide in was the
girl sitting next to him. A few hours had passed since the bus stop and
Gulliver deemed the passing adequate to field questions once more. "I just
don't know if this was the right thing to do," Gulliver quietly mumbled to
Margaret.
"This
still?" Margaret lazily sighed. "You know exactly why thi--" but
Margaret was cut off by the jump of the Castile County bus over a large hole in
the highway's concrete.
"I
just mean that, it wasn't all that big of a deal. They were just busy. I don't
think they really wanted to hurt us or anything. Or at least..." Gulliver
lost his train of thought. "I really think if we were to go back right now
and just explain what happened...well don't you think they'd have to go easier
on us, we're just Ôchildren' still I suppose." As he said the words
Gulliver cringed, knowing beyond his feeble attempt at derailing what he now
considered to be Margaret's plan, that in all reality this was a much more
severe and dire situation for their future.
Margaret
denied this claim any response and chose instead to wait a few minutes to move
the conversation onto topics she considered more immediate. "You know
where we're staying when we get there, right?"
"Yeah."
"We're
going to have to wait a few days, but I think that'll be just enough time.
She's really the only person left in the family these days, you know, now that
we're gone too. She'll get the word quickly enough."
"Yeah."
"And
from everything I've read the actual money transaction is fairly quick."
Gulliver
stopped talking at all at this point and returned to his novel, leaving the
aisle of the bus silent once again.
Several
weeks passed since the fire and all that could be clearly discerned from the
origin of the crime at 12 Dias Drive was that the perpetrators had clearly
intended for both Mr. and Mrs. Coriander to perish (the two having been
obviously drugged as there was no signs of a struggle anywhere as if no one,
except the cat, had tried to escape during the blaze) and that both Coriander
children were very mysteriously missing from the residence. A connection
between the two seemed imminent to Margaret, but she intended for their escape
to be hastily completed and judged her wit to outmatch that of the local police
especially seeing as there would be no grieving parents to start a full-fledged
search. And so while the police began to dismiss the case, leaving it behind in
the records until any new clues appeared, and the insurance companies paid off
those whom had the foresight to purchase protection, the Coriander children
delved deeper into their scheme.
"Did
they deserve it, Margaret?"
"It's
not a matter of deserving."
"Well
not deserve it, but didn't we owe
them more than that? This is all so...extreme"
"Look
Gully, this was for our own good, not theirs, sometimes you have to look out
for your own good intentions and forget about everyone else," Margaret
said with a clear voice of dominance and attempted wisdom.
"Would
you do that to me?"
"You're
my brother, it's different Gully."
"I
just don't know anything anymore Margaret, how did we even decide on
this?"
"You
knew what you were doing just as well as I, don't play it off like you--"
"No,
I know, it's just...I didn't plan for it to really...happen."
"Gulliver,
I'm through with your questioning," Margaret said, far more threatening
than Gulliver had ever remembered her to be in the past. "It's distracting
you and now you're making it a distraction for me. You know we've got to be
careful these first couple weeks, and then we're home free. Just think about
adopting a new name, a new persona, with enough to live on for as long as we
like. We can do whatever, whenever. No more--"
"Parents?"
Gulliver interjected.
"What's
that supposed to mean?" Margaret retorted.
"It's
just, weren't we able to do all that before, wasn't the point to just, you
know, get their attention, wake them up?"
Margaret
could see Gulliver fading from the conversational path she would have liked and
picked up where she had begun. "We've got to stay the course, we'll make
the visit to Celia's tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?"
questioned Gulliver meekly.
"Yes,
tomorrow, it's been long enough, she must have cashed the checks by now and you
know Celia, 'if it's not in cash, it can't be trusted to really be there at
all'." Margaret mimed much more spritely than Gulliver had expected.
"I
suppose you've planned out the next one too, I suppose they'll keep being 'one
more' to 'get what we need'" said Gulliver dramatically
"You
know this will be more than enough, this is the last time, and yes I do, it's
quite simple really."
"Leave
me out of it."
"I
hadn't planned for you anyway, Gully."
This
statement froze Gulliver and at first enraged him at the fact of his exclusion,
even though it was what he had requested. However, he began to calm down as the
thought of being uninvolved from whatever Margaret had planned for the trip to
Celia's house eased back into his consciousness.
The
evening passed and with the morning Gulliver awoke to find himself very much
alone. At first he was confused, but soon realized that Margaret had gone to
Celia's in the morning to catch her before she even woke up. Gulliver believed
it to be a logical plan, but was still somewhat shaken inside by the prospect
of what unknown was going on. As a man of certainty getting himself in this
position was growing ever more frustrating and second guessings were making
Gulliver's conscious heavy. He drank some water from the hotel bathroom's
faucet and returned to his single bed with his leather bound book.
When
Margaret returned, she seemed panicked. She hurriedly rushed Gulliver to gather
his belongings and get ready to go to once more.
"Where
were you--what happened, Margaret?"
"It
went fine, but we have to leave before we cause any trouble for
ourselves."
"But
what did you--"
"It
doesn't matter Gully."
"But
I want to know."
Margaret
didn't answer, but merely dumped the contents of a black schoolbag into the
much larger black duffle that she had brought along. Shortly thereafter she was
out the door and Gulliver could do nothing but follow in pursuit. Once outside
Gulliver saw Margaret getting into a particularly boxy American made car and
hurried to get inside. Just as soon as the door had closed Margaret took off,
not bothering to wait for Gulliver to buckle his seat belt or even get situated
in the foreign car.
"What's
this? Where did this come from?"
"I
took it when I left Celia's. I figured in the very least it can get us closer
to the border and" but Margaret was cut off by the now distressed
Gulliver.
"But
what if we get pulled over, you know our names have to be on some database.
We're missing, remember."
"Yeah,
I know, but we need to move quickly and the bus just won't do."
Gulliver
took a moment to think over the events of the last several weeks. When he tried
this time, unlike the previous times, his mind went hazy. He began to believe
that everything might have just been one long dream, but was quickly reminded
of the reality of the situation he was now subject to when the car came to a
sudden stop. Gulliver looked up and was surprised to see a rather pastoral
scene in front of him. Just a few minutes ago they had been near gas stations
and small stores and currently they were parked right next to a lake tucked
into a section of the regional park. The lake seemed familiar and Gulliver
recalled what he believed to be a family day trip that may have been taken here
when he was much younger. No sooner, however, had Gulliver begun to reminisce
than he was hit over the head and he ceased to think at all. Margaret got out
of the car, scanned the surroundings and checked to see if all the windows were
securely rolled up. She got behind the car, which was pulled up right on the
lake embankment and pushed as hard she could. Exhausted, Margaret watched the
car slowly sink from some distance. Gulliver was gone, so was everyone else in
the Coriander family and she was finally all alone.