Dakota woke in the middle of the night to the sound of storms: a party of static and light and pouring water outside of his window. He got out of bed and stepped into his shoes then walked quietly down into the living room, where he saw Marly and Timothy twisted comfortably together under an afghan in his recliner. He passed them and paused as a massive bolt struck the ground outside of his house, shining bright and yellow light into the room and making his shadow stretch all the way to the other side of the room. When the light faded, but didn't disappear, and actually began to flicker, he looked out the glass door and saw the flames spreading across the open field. Entranced, he slid the door open and walked unfeelingly onto the grass and kept on until he was about twenty feet from the flames, stretching out at both his sides. He looked directly up at the sky as drops of water crashed onto his skin. He laughed a big, hollow, manic laugh at the clouds above, and at everything beyond them.
“This is one enormous, hilarious joke!” he yelled and laughed again. “The funniest. Funniest. Thank you.”
The flames grew closer and he stepped back.
Marly and Timothy woke up from the light and the heat and the reverberations of Dakota's unhinged cries. Marly turned her head and looked out the open door.
“Oh my God,” she said as she rubbed her eyes, smearing her mascara, and looked again. “Timothy call nine-one-one.”
She crawled off his lap and ran out to the lawn.
“Dakota!” she hollered out. “Dakota, get away from the fire!”
He turned and laughed.
“I want to be with Sarah,” he yelled back. “Sarah and the baby.”
Timothy came out onto the lawn with Marly.
“Sarah's in the house, buddy,” Timothy called out to him. “She's inside taking care of little Harriet.”
“What?” Dakota yelled.
“Sarah, she's taking care of Harriet,” Marly played along. “In the nursery. She wants you to come inside, sweetie.”
Dakota turned around and stared at them.
“They're gone,” Dakota said. “I know that. Don't lie to me. I'm crazy, but I haven't lost my mind.”
“Please come away from the fire,” Marly said. “The fire department is on its way. They'll be here any minute to put this out.”
“Marly, we have to leave,” Timothy said in a panicked voice.
The flames had started to lick the walls on the east side of the house.
“Dakota, hurry,” she begged as Timothy ran out to him.
Marly went inside the house, where smoke had begun to build up already. She gathered photo albums and Dakota's laptop. Timothy brought Dakota back to the house.
“Get whatever you need and hurry outside,” Timothy said.
Dakota glared him in the eyes, then turned away and ran upstairs to the nursery. He found the doll he'd thrown at Marly and stared at it. It was a floppy little bunny with long limbs and enormous ears. He remembered going through the baby store, scanning things for the registry, and Sarah finding the bunny. It was the only one, sitting alone with the car seats. She loved the bunny immediately and when she picked him up, little Harriet kicked.
He picked up the doll and ran downstairs. Timothy was waiting anxiously at the front door. Dakota stopped and turned his head to see that flames were already leaping through the door of the master bedroom. He shuddered and ran out the door, followed by Timothy. They stood on the little dirt road and watched as his home went up in flames. The fire department finally showed up, but their efforts were fruitless. The home that he and his wife had scrimped and saved to build on the ten acre lot she'd found in the most perfect little bedroom town, which wasn't too far from the city and his commute would only be fifteen minutes, and just think of how perfect it would be to raise a family on this land; we could buy Harriet a pony when she's old enough; we could build a playground and a pool. Perfection was going up in smoke right before his eyes. Over the course of a weekend, his life was entirely gone.
Dakota lived with Marly and Timothy over the course of the insurance company's investigation. After two long months, they finally ruled out arson and paid him lump sum for the death of his wife and loss of his home. He'd quit drinking, as Marly had made it a rule if he was to stay in her home, as another influence on her two sons, then there was to be absolutely no alcohol allowed. He had quit eating for the most part as well, and had only really begun to eat three meals every day two weeks after beginning to see a therapist at Timothy's behest. He lost quite a bit of weight with quite a bit of his mind, as well as his entire career, but he gained quite a bit of a beard. After the third month, he began to get antsy.
“I'm not saying,” Dr. Hamilton said, a pencil made short from extensive sharpening balanced between his index and middle fingers when gesturing, as Dakota paced the center of his office, “that you'll get over the trauma if you leave town. That's not what I'm saying at all. However, you've made some wonderful progress and I think, to some extent, living in the household of your late wife's sister is hindering you... to some extent.”
“You're not saying that,” Dakota huffed, “but you are saying something.”
“I'm suggesting that you take a vacation for an indefinite period of time,” Dr. Hamilton said. “See some of the world, meet some people. Call me from here and there to check in. I think it would be very good for you.”
“A vacation lasting indefinitely,” Dakota restated to himself, his index finger scratching a bit of scruff on his chin.
So, Dakota took an indefinitely lasting vacation, traveling to and from an indefinite number of cities, nation-states, countries, continents and even a couple of previously undiscovered islands off the coast of Argentina.
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a penny for your thoughts?