Las llamas se están calentando No dejes que te vean sudar.
Fear, anger, and shame battled within me. Guilt was a strong force as well twisting my guts and leaving me feeling hollow. That hollow feeling pissed me off so I would scream and bang my fists against the table and throw the chairs around.
The cycle went on and I was left in the room alone. I wanted my mamá. I wanted my papá to come in and save me. At this point I would even take my brothers. Anyone, anything to end this.
What was going to happen to me? How much trouble was I in. I’ve started fires before but never as big as this one. It was never at school before. No one was ever hurt in any of the fires before. It was never my intentions to harm anyone. I just wanted to tell my classmates how awesome fire was.
The door opened and my mamá rushed inside. I ran to her as fast as I could and crashed into her middle. Tears burst free and fat droplets rolled down my cheeks as I buried my face inside of my mamá’s shirt.
My fingers twisted in the fabric and I could smell her familiar scent. In my mother’s arms I felt safe and at home. I could feel her trembling with me. My mamá was crying as well. She was as scared as I was. Maybe mamá didn’t know what was going to happen either.
“¿Qué has hecho, Lucas?” my mamá asked me grabbing my shoulder and pushing me back so she could look at me. Her hazel eyes were red, puffy, and wet. Her hair in a messy ponytail. She had streaks through her makeup where the tears had left their ugly tracks. “¿Qué has hecho?” she repeated a catch to her voice.
“No hice nada, mamá.” I lied. Of course my mamá knew I was lying. She always knew when one of her boys wasn’t telling her the truth.
“¿Qué has hecho, Lucas?” Mamá yelled louder she was squeezing my shoulders more tears freely flowing as she gave me a shake.
“Nada. Nada. Nada.” I repeated it. I chanted it. Made it true in my head so it could be true in my heart. I set the fire though. I burned down the school. People were hurt because of what I had done. “No hice nada.” I whispered.
“Ma’am,” a voice spoke and I only now saw the detective that had come into the room with my mamá. My heart rate elevated again. My palms growing sweaty as my throat felt dry.
He was a big man with sharp grey eyes and a bald head. He towered over mamá and I and his shoulders were so wide I was shocked he even fit through the narrow doorway to the room. This guy looked like he ate children like me for breakfast. I held onto my mother again shifting so I could hide behind her.
My eyes shifted around the room. I didn’t want to look at the big man so I cast my eyes away from him. Looking at the wall, the ceiling, the floor, anywhere but at the man who had just spoken. It almost felt like he could smell the guilt on me.
“Would you please have a seat,” the man said gesturing towards the table I had been at earlier. Mamá took my hand and drew me to the table I just finished sitting at. Another person had come into the room with the three of us. This was a woman I was sure I had pass on my way to this room. She sat down on the other side of the table with the big man and I looked towards my mamá.
“I’m detective King. We’re going to ask you a few questions and I want you to answer as best you can.” The man said looking at me. “If you get nervous or scared your mom is right there.” I looked to my mamá who was beside me.
The woman turned on a camera that was in the room and I watched the red glow for a long moment. The lens seemed as if it could see through me. Like it would detect every lie I said and inform the detective on the other side of the table.
“Can you state your name?” Detective King was big but he had a kind smile and a gentle voice. Like a big teddy bear. Sure he looked scary but he was soft and friendly. Or that was what he wanted you to think.
“Lucas Santiago Feliciano,” I whispered looking from the camera to my mamá to King.
“Can you tell me how the fire started Lucas?” King asked.
“No hice nada,” I repeated what was becoming my person motto of mine. My mamá hadn’t been born in this country. She told me she came over after she had my oldest brother Matías. She wanted to give them both a better life and the best place to do that was here. My mamá was a hard worker and she told us we needed to always tell the truth.
“¿Por qué crees que comencé el fuego?” I asked. It wasn’t fair that she thought I was guilty even if I was.
“You know english, Lucas?” Detective King asked me and I looked at him.
“No,” I lied.
“Lucas!” Mamá yelled and I flinched slightly. I know I was on a one way road to a beating now.
“Let’s take this slowly,” King said and I watched the man again. “Why don’t you tell me what happened in your own words.” I raised an eyebrow at him. “Just tell me how the day went.” He gave me an encouraging smile.
“Quería leer mi informe a la clase. El Sr. Clark llamaba a todos menos a mí.” I spoke quickly knowing that King would have a hard time understanding what I was saying. “Quería decirles a todos cuán grande es el fuego.” I went on to say.
“Please Lucas, slow down and speak english.” King said and my mamá glared at me.
“Lucas Santiago Feliciano.” Mamá voice was low and threatening and I swallowed. I didn’t want to get in trouble but I didn’t have a choice. I was already in trouble.
“I pushed him!” I yelled jumping up and throwing my chair across the room. The anger back for what seemed like no reason. Or maybe I was angry because I knew I was in trouble. “I just wanted to read my report.” I kicked the chair as mamá jumped up.
“I’m sorry,” she was saying. “He always get this way.” She explained. “Lucas stop it. Basta, Lucas!” I kicked the chair again screaming.
“¡SOY FUEGO!” I yelled jumping with the camera in the room burst into flames. The detectives all jumped as well getting up and looking at the flames. Mamá grabbed me her arms wrapping around me as she held me to her. My eyes were fixed on the fire as the doors burst opened.
A woman walked inside with two men dressed in all black. I watched this woman. She was very pretty. Her blonde hair was smoothed back perfectly into a neat tight bun. Her blue eyes looked at the police before falling on me. The men in black went to the detectives and they spoke in hushed voices as the woman walked towards me and Mamá.
“Lucas Feliciano,” the pretty woman swatted down so that she was on eye level with me. I shifted trying to hide behind my mother. Something about her send alarms ringing in my mind. Maybe it was because her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m Dr. Sara Walker. I want to help you.” She said and I swallowed feeling a new kind of dread pressing down on me.
To Be Continued . . .