The Burned Man

The burned man came one night as I was reading to the baby in the living room. We sat tucked into the overstuffed chair and the baby’s body warmed the crack between my chest and arm. Lisa lay on the couch and read with a plaid throw blanket over her legs.

I thought I saw a face through the curtain, but discounted it as a mind trick. I hadn’t slept in a long time. Then came a knock on the front door.

We all sat up stiff and looked at each other, even the baby.

I wrapped up the baby and handed her to Lisa and went to the door.

I turned on the porch light then peaked through the side curtain in the living room.

The burned man must have seen the curtain move because he waved at me.

I walked to the door and opened it, leaving the glass door closed. I glanced at the handle and noticed it was unlocked. I felt like it was too late or too rude to lock it now.

The burned man smiled at me. His teeth were pointy and he had a beautifully round head. His ears were gone and his nose was little more than a lump with two holes. He was completely hairless and his skin shone glossy under the porch light. A pair of moths fluttered near his face but he paid them no mind.

“Howdy,” he said.

“Yes?” I said. “Can I help you?”

“Seems I’m a little down on my luck, friend. My car broke down a few miles back and I don’t have a phone to call a tow. I was wondering if I could use yours.”

I tried to read his eyes. They were clear blue and I wondered if he was attractive before being burned. I pictured him wearing a tailored blue suit and a full head of blonde hair, walking confidently through an office building.

I said, “I can bring you my phone. You can use it right here.”

“Thank you, my friend,” he said. “I mean no harm. I’m just looking for a little hand, that’s all.”

I closed the door and felt bad about it then grabbed my phone off the kitchen island. Lisa looked up and said, “What does he want? What are you doing?”

“I’m going to let him use the phone to call a tow truck. It’s fine.” I said.

“You think this is a good idea? Hurry up and get it over with,” she said, bouncing the baby close to her chest.

I held out my phone and he snatched my wrist with a wrinkled hand.

I jumped back and he laughed. “Just joking,” he said. “You should have seen your face.”

I forced a chuckle and felt the surge of non-emergency chemicals flood my brain.

He winked at me and held the phone to his ear hole.

I paced around the living room and waited.

Some time later he knocked on the glass door and his knuckles left damp spots. I walked up and he said, “No luck. Closest wrecker has two trucks and they’re both out cleaning up a big wreck on the interstate. Looks like I’ll have to wait till morning.”

He held out my phone and I took it and said, “Oh, well, sorry to hear that. I hope you get things worked out. Take care. Thanks.”

He gave me a salute then turned on his heel. He looked out into the darkness and let out a howl that rattled the pane of the glass door. Then he jumped off of the porch and walked up the street with great strides.

In bed I pictured him sitting in his car waiting, burned and laughing.