riverrun Vol. 47

Reality by Luci Schwarz
16
It’s not the blinding lights of red and blue that captures her attention. No, it’s the
smell; the repugnant odor of something burning that assaults her nostrils and
makes all other senses obsolete.
It’s overwhelming—she gags.
Fingers scramble for the campground map, discarded into the backseat when
she’d thought it had fulfilled its purpose. Part of her is aware that she needs to go
past this area to get to the site but her more naïve persona is hoping she read the
numbers incorrectly and she’ll get to turn around.
However, the numbers are the same and she’s disappointed but not at all surprised.
But how to navigate this mess?
The sounds of the sirens shut off abruptly, but the lights continue to flash and
flare.
An officer approaches her car and she reaches to roll down the window before remembering,
stupidly, that it’s already open. The fumbling with the button adds a
layer of awkwardness to a conversation that has yet to start.
“Do you need to go past here?” The officer asks, dark lines emphasizing tired eyes.
His hand is twitching against his belt loop, with trepidation or suspicion she’ll
never know.
“Yes, sir,” she replies in the politest tone she can manage. “I’ve got a delivery for
Cabin 3.” She’s tempted to ask what the ambulance and the several squad cars
are for but eventually decides against it. If the officer wants to let her know, she’s
sure he’ll tell her.
He doesn’t and instead gestures to the barricade of cars blocking the only road to
the cabin. “We apologize for the inconvenience, but you’ll have to park here. Cabin
3 isn’t too far though.”
She nods understandingly and he leaves; the sound of heavy boots crunching
gravel ringing loudly in her ears.
Shutting off her car, she pulls the key from the engine and retrieves the pizza
boxes from her passenger seat, arms shaking uncontrollably for seemingly no reason.
Going around the police cars is an obstacle of its own, a music-less dance that involves
several hasty apologies. As she passes the ambulance, from the entrance of
site #75, a stretcher appears, carried by a handful of men in uniform.