The Key to the Golden Firebird Read Free Page A

plant. He straightened up when he saw her and rapidly finished up his phone call with a curt, “Okay,” and, “I’ll call you back.” She didn’t really question why he was in their kitchen, on their phone; instead she wondered whether or not to tell him that Pete was stuck at the pool and that he had no clothes.
    He hung up and walked over to her and tried to put his hand on her shoulder.
    â€œMay,” he said, “I’m so…”
    She moved away.
    â€œCan you tell me, please,” May said, reaching back and holding on to the kitchen counter, “can you tell me what’s happening?”
    â€œYour father…,” he began. He was speaking in an unnaturally precise manner, and he gripped the top of one of their heavy kitchen chairs until his knuckles were white. “He had a heart attack, May.”
    â€œWhen?”
    It was the only thing she could think to ask.
    â€œAbout forty-five minutes ago.”
    Forty-five minutes. You could save someone in forty-five minutes. That sounded reasonable. You hit them with the electric paddles or you gave them some medicine. Aspirin. She’d heard that aspirin could save you if you took it while you had a heart attack.
    â€œWhere is he?” May asked, surprised to hear the low insistence in her own voice. “Where did this happen? Here?”
    â€œIn the garage. In the car. He parked it, and then it must have happened.”
    â€œHave they stopped trying to…” May didn’t know the words. “Those people, are they going to keep trying? You know. To help him?”
    Mr. Camp didn’t say anything for a moment.
    â€œIt was too late when they got here,” he finally managed. “Do you understand?”
    â€œToo late?”
    â€œHe was already gone, May.”
    No. He wasn’t gone, not literally. He was out in the garage.
    â€œHe’s dead, May.”
    May swallowed a few times in an attempt to get the whistling, air-suction noise in her ears to stop. It didn’t work.
    â€œCan I go see him?” she asked.
    Mr. Camp sighed and ran his hand through his hair. It was straight, unlike Pete’s, and turning a steely gray. Her dad had no gray hair.
    â€œI wouldn’t. Stay here with me, okay?”
    â€œWhere’s my mom?”
    â€œShe’s coming home now.”
    â€œDoes she know?”
    â€œShe knows something is wrong.”
    â€œI’ll call her.” May walked toward the phone.
    â€œShe’s on her way. She’s not at work anymore.”
    â€œCell…”
    â€œWhy don’t you wait?” he asked. “I think that would be better. Safer. She’s driving. Is that okay?”
    May stopped halfway to the phone and thought about this.
    â€œSafer. Okay. She’s driving.”
    â€œRight.” He nodded.
    There was a lull. Neither of them moved.
    â€œMay,” he finally said, “I’m so sorry.”
    â€œI have to go look for Palm,” she replied. “I’ll come back.”
    Halfway to the door, May realized that her bra was still dangling out of her front pocket. She yanked it free and threw it on the stairs as she passed. Stepping out the front door, she was shocked at how achingly sunny it was. Somehow she felt like it should have suddenly gotten dark. The paramedics were still there. They gave her sideways glances as she wandered to the quiet street, looked to the left and right, and wandered back toward the house. Another neighbor approached. So many neighbors. They were coming out of the woodwork.
    The buzzing in her ears was getting louder.
    â€œHave you seen my sister?” May asked anyone nearby. “Palmer?”
    â€œShe’s over at the Starks’, honey,” one of the neighbors replied.
    That’s right, May thought. Bonnie had taken Palm to her house.
    The neighbor was reaching out to her, trying to embrace her.
    â€œOh, right.” May nodded, backing away.