When I went to meet Alison down on Granville Island, her brother Adam had been dead for two days. It was the end of September, but not raining, so I walked. I’d just moved into a studio in Yaletown, was trying to live the dream a little. When I got across the bridge and down to the Seawall I lit a cigarette, then ran the flame from the lighter back and forth across my palm. It took a few passes before my skin began to burn, before I found something Adam and I had in common.

It took me a few minutes to find her. She was drawn up against a bench behind the Public Market, sitting towards the water. It was obvious that she hadn’t slept in awhile - hair lay in clumps against her forehead, and dried blood filled the cracks in her lips. An old UBC hoodie bagged over her shoulders, her knees and arms tucked up inside its chest.

She was facing away from me, staring at the traffic stumbling across the Burrard Street Bridge. If I surprised her, she didn't show it. Just turned and smiled a little, then leaned into my chest. I hugged her, knees and all.

Hey Ali, I whispered into her neck.

Hey, she said. Thanks for coming.

I hadn’t seen her since we’d broken up, back at the beginning of the summer. But she had called that morning and wondered if I could meet, if we could talk a little. It was a Monday, but I told her sure thing and then called in sick. She didn’t ask if I knew, because of course I did. Everyone did. Leah and Carl and Rich had all called me the morning after - Holy shit, did you hear about Adam? - and by that afternoon Janice and Mickey and Pauline had too. Death makes good gossip. No one had spoken to Alison, though. I was the first.

But I didn't know what to say. Didn't want to ask how she was doing, because there was only one answer. Didn't know if she'd even want to talk about it, figured maybe she was just looking to pretend things were normal for half an hour. Poor girl had probably been doing nothing but talking - to cops, to reporters, to family. Maybe she just wanted a break, an hour’s vacation from the hysteria. I didn't know. Serious conversations were new territory for us. Even at its height, our relationship had been flimsy, its issues merely social - which restaurant, which bar, which friends we'd bring along. And when I’d broken things off I'd been surprised by how hard she took it, by how much she'd cried.

So I just squeezed her and didn't say anything. Her breath was stale. After a minute she pulled back and asked how I was doing, how my summer had been. I answered carefully. Didn't mention that I was still seeing the girl I'd left her for, or how well things were going at the new job. Only that I'd had a good few months, how I'd gone back to Toronto for a week to see my parents. That made her smile.

How's your Dad? she said.

Good, I said. He still wants me back home. Thinks I'm just wasting time out here. You know how he is. Thinks Vancouver’s still all hippies and retirees.

She nodded. Two Japanese tourists stood a few feet away from us, their heads hidden beneath matching aviators and Tilley hats. They were taking pictures of each other in the shadow of the bridge. One of them took a few steps towards me, like he was going to ask for a shot of them together, but when he got close enough to see Alison he did a little gesture with his hands and backed off.

You want a coffee or something? I asked.

No, she said. I'm fine. I'm sorry, I know this is random. I just... he liked you, Eric. More than any other guy I’ve ever dated. And you're not a very good listener, I know. But you always looked like you were listening. So... just sit with me for awhile. Please?

Yeah, I said. No problem.

She curled into me again and I put my arm around her. He’d liked me. It felt strange to hear that. I'd liked him too. How he always carried an umbrella. Told me once that he wanted to start his own umbrella company, making umbrellas for men, with wooden handles and cool patterns - skulls, dice, crowns, that kind of thing. I told him it was a good idea. That I’d buy one of those umbrellas.

I was there, she said. Did you know that? I was, like, ten feet away.

Jesus, I said. That’s... Ali, I’m so sorry.

No, it was good. I’m glad I was there. I don’t think I’d believe it otherwise.

You guys were at Plush, right?

Yeah, she said. Tim's birthday. Their cousin.

Was he on anything?

No. She shook her head. I was, but, you know Adam... he never. That’s not his thing. Never needed it. She was right, the kid had always been high energy. It was the first thing I noticed about him, even though he was only sixteen or so then, long before Alison and I got together. A party at her house, and she wasn't letting him drink, but he didn't let that stop him. He'd walked right up and introduced himself: Asked how I knew Alison, if I wanted some gum, where I'd gone to high school, what I drove, if there was a song I wanted to hear. Sometimes he'd be on another question before I'd answered the last one, like his mouth had been set on fast forward.

Actually, she said, he was really quiet. Wouldn't leave our booth, not really talking to anyone but me. And he was sweating a lot. It was dripping off him. He was all paranoid over these girls he'd brought, really worried that they weren't having fun. And nervous. Kept spilling his beer.

Who were the girls? I asked.

I dunno, I'd never met them before. Just Surrey girls, nothing special. I think he knew them from BCIT. Anyway, by the end of the night he was pretty drunk, and he said he was going the washroom and I didn't see him for awhile. I actually started to think he'd left. But I finally found him at the centre of the dance floor, right in the middle of these girls. Then he was his old self again, all over the place, trying to do a waltz with one of them. I was staring right at him. It looked like he was singing. And then he started to smoke.

You saw it happening?

Yeah. I thought maybe it was steam, because he'd been so sweaty. But then there was more of it, and all of a sudden his hands were on fire, and I realized he wasn't singing, he was screaming, but... the flames went up his arms, and then everyone was screaming, there was this big crowd around him, like around a fight. And he tried to run off the dance floor, everyone moved to let him go, but when he got to the edge he fell down, his legs were on fire too, and then his hair. He was rolling around, trying to put it out, screaming and screaming and screaming. And then one of the bouncers got to him with a fire extinguisher, sprayed him all over. But it was too late... the heat must have been inside him, too. And the smell... people started throwing up. I ran over, but they wouldn't let anyone near him. His skin, his face... She trailed off and closed her eyes, rocking back and forth inside her hoodie’s tent.

Ali, I...

I know, she said. If I wasn't there I wouldn't believe it either. My parents want to sue the club, they think it must have been the temperature inside or something like that.

What do you think?

I dunno. The doctors said it's happened before. That it’s not impossible, just unexplainable. But there are records, I guess. Still, they can’t say why. It doesn't make a difference. She opened her eyes. She wasn't crying, but her skin had gone very white, pale enough to make out all the veins on her face. And I hoped my listening was helping, because otherwise I was useless. I had no idea what she was feeling. And I felt ashamed that I was the one she'd called, that I was the best she had.

I went back, she said suddenly. Last night.

To Plush? I asked.

Yeah. My parents invited over all this family, uncles and aunts I haven’t seen for years, and I just wanted to get out, so I went back. To Plush. I needed to. But... it was like it never happened. They'd cleaned everything up, the same music was on. Even some of the same people were there.

Jesus, I said.

And I heard these two girls talking about it. One girl was saying she'd heard some guy had died there the night before, how he'd just... exploded. And the other girl goes, 'Oh my god.' And that was it.

We didn't say anything for a long time after that. I pulled another cigarette out, but as I patted my pockets for my lighter I changed my mind. A wind came up off the water, delivering a chill that crawled inside my sweater, made me shiver.

I can't imagine it, I said. The not understanding.

That's not the worst part, she said. I mean... She gestured towards another bench, where a chubby guy was barking into a cell phone. I don't understand how that works, really. How the Internet works. Fuck, I don't understand how my birth control works, when I think about it. So... that's not so bad. But... what's hard is that I feel like it must mean something. There has to be a reason. Why it happened to him, I mean. I don't know what, thought. Was he special? Am I, maybe? I don't know... She leaned into me again. I just feel as if this can’t happen alone. Something has to come next.

And that was it. She was finished talking. We sat there for another twenty minutes or so, not saying anything, and then she got up and said she'd let me know about the funeral. I asked if she wanted help getting home, and she smiled and said she'd be fine, that she appreciated me coming. And then she left, towards the Market. I watched until her hoodie melted into the crowd.

As I walked home I thought about her going back to the club, listening to those girls. I thought about the nameless millions of other people - the ones who didn’t know Alison, who hadn’t known Adam. I imagined them leaning down for the paper outside their hotel room door, sitting with their takeout in front of the news, loading up their web browser. How for them the whole thing would just be one line – “Teenager bursts into flames at Vancouver bar”- and then they’d turn the page, chalk it up as one more little piece of crazy in this city.

The wind was still going strong, and at the edge of the island I hid behind a tree to light a cigarette. The leaves had just begun to turn, and there were golden freckles in their green. I wondered, for a moment, how nature decides which leaf falls first. Not that it makes a difference, of course. They would all be gone by winter.