1929 (71 page)

∞∞∞

Hubert reached to the top of the pantry and
pulled out a large jar. He held it out to Jean. He smiled with
effort, his face glistened with the sheen of a cold sweat, and his
breath was hard and short.

“Here you go. I think I better sit down,” he
panted while groping for the chair in front of him. “Think you can
manage the milk from the icebox?” Jean nodded and skipped to the
icebox, having to move several items around to get to the round
milk pitcher.

“Jean.”

Jean turned toward Hubert’s pained whisper.
His mouth was open in a silent scream, his hands clutching his
chest and then, to Jean’s horror, watched him fall onto the table,
tipping it over. The lamp skidded across the room, spraying oil in
a circular pattern as it spun on its angled side. The fire quickly
jumped from the wick and chased the oil in all directions. Jean
stood frozen in fear, watching the fire grow. He heard Samuel’s
crying from upstairs and looked around anxiously.

Fire, a foot tall in some places, stood
between him and the stairwell. He watched frantically as the fire
jumped to the curtains of the back door and the kitchen quickly
filled with smoke. He dumped the pitcher of milk over his head and
ran full on at the fire, jumping over it in spots and raced up the
stairs.

Samuel was screaming hard, choppy wails as
Jean stood on tiptoes to reach him in the crib. He couldn't quite
reach him; he dropped to his knees to reach a thin arm through the
bars and pulled him close to the edge. Back up on toes, he grabbed
two fistfuls of Samuel’s sleeper and pulled with all his might to
raise him over the edge of the crib wall.

∞∞∞

“Make sure she’s tucked in,” Arianna said.
Dark clouds from the approaching storm caused dusk to fall quickly,
and Caleb noticed the threatening clouds in the distance on their
third trip down the drive.

“Looks like it’s going to be a hell of a
storm tonight,” he mentioned, too tired to sound more than casual.
Arianna nodded, head down, watching the pebbles fly in all
directions as she drug her feet.

“Do you smell that?” He sniffed the air
several times to the left and right.

“Maybe the lightning caught something.”
Arianna shrugged. A sizzling pop from behind them caused Caleb to
turn around slowly and his eyes grew wide. Flames reached high out
of the kitchen window and teased at the door below billows of black
smoke. The screen door hung to the side, the bottom-half glowing
red.

“Samuel!” Arianna screamed and scooped up
Savrene as they both began running toward the house.

It was a long road to begin with, but in this
moment, it seemed to go on forever. Caleb lowered his head, willing
his legs to run faster and Arianna screamed for Jean and Samuel in
turn.

Caleb stopped at the edge of the porch and
pumped the well handle furiously, drenching himself as best he
could, instantly grateful his mother had insisted on a well pump
near the kitchen. He ducked his head under the stream one last time
as something caught his eye. He pulled his head up, shook it
wildly, and wiped his eyes. He made out a little figure engulfed in
the smoke and a second later, Jean emerged, coughing and holding
Samuel tight to his stomach, his little fists locked under the
infant’s arms. The baby began to slide from Jean’s hold, and Caleb
took a huge step to catch the baby before he fell to the porch. He
tossed him onto his shoulder and then scooped Jean up, hugging him
tightly with one arm.

“Thank you, Jean. Thank you,” he whispered
repeatedly as he raced to Arianna. She laid Savrene on the ground
and grabbed Samuel in one fell swoop, dropped to her knees and
pulled Jean to her, holding them both tightly as she cried in
relief.

“Jean, where’s my dad?” Caleb asked
frantically.

“. . . kitchen . . . ,” he replied through a
cough.

Caleb took off again toward the house,
covered his mouth and nose with his shirt, and lowered his head as
he entered the burning kitchen. Arianna scarcely breathed as
several minutes passed and Caleb hadn’t returned.

“Jean. Stay here with the babies. Don’t move,
all right? Ne bougez pas!”

He nodded wide-eyed, moved himself between
the babies, and held each of their hands. Arianna raced to the
porch and could feel the wall of heat radiating from the house. She
looked around frantically for the bucket at the other end of the
porch. She grabbed it, returned to the pump, filled it with water,
and threw it in the doorway that was now thick with flames.

Someone from behind her yelled, “Form a
line!” She turned to see more than a dozen neighbors, all with
buckets in hand, forming two lines from the well pump to the
door.

“Caleb!” she screamed desperately over the
roar of the flames. Arianna stumbled backwards from the burning
doorway.

“There he is!” someone yelled, pushed past
Arianna and stepped into the smoke to help Caleb pull his father’s
body out of the house.

A safe distance from the house, his limp body
dropped to the ground with a deafening clap of thunder overhead.
Caleb leaned over him to listen for breath, ripped open his shirt
and put his ear to his chest but heard nothing. Arianna stood over
him with her hands over her mouth, crying.

“He’s gone,” Caleb whispered, looking up at
Arianna with tears in his eyes. “He’s gone.” He remained on his
knees by his father’s body, staring blankly at him while a number
of neighbors raced to save what they could of the house. A flash of
lightning followed by another thunderclap preceded a sudden
downpour by only seconds. Arianna ran to the children to move them
to the dry barn. One of Hubert’s friends stood behind Caleb and
gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. He reached around and
handed him a wadded up sheet that he had pulled from the
clothesline. And even though it was already wet from the sudden
rain, Caleb draped the sheet over his father and slowly rose. His
eyes found Arianna standing in the threshold of the barn, safe; he
turned his attention to helping the effort to save the house. He
grabbed a bucket and began racing in and out of the house with the
others.

Jonathan tore onto the property, skidding to
a stop with a muddy fishtail in the pouring rain, and Aryl
screeched to a halt behind him; the oldest of the neighbors who had
been dispatched to fetch them was left several miles back. Aryl ran
toward the house, the fire now reduced to a smoldering mess, and
picked up a stray bucket along the way. Jonathan looked across the
yard where Caleb held his mother’s shoulders as she cried over her
husband’s body.

“Dadee!”

Jean ran from the barn and scrambled up into
Jonathan's arms. He hugged him tight and then pulled him back to
look at him.

“Are you all right?” he asked, caressing his
hair and sooty face. He nodded with eyes full of tears as Jonathan
carried him back to the barn.

“I was scared,” he whispered in his father’s
ear.

∞∞∞

“Jonathan,” Arianna said, as she sat against
a bale of hay, feeding Savrene. Samuel lay on his side next to her
leg. She looked like she was ready to drop, if she weren't already
sitting, from the combination of exhaustion and the letdown of
adrenaline. “Thank you for coming.” Jonathan looked at each of the
babies and thought her gratitude absurd.

“I’m glad you all got out all right,” he
said, running his fingers through his hair and looking back to the
black hole in the side of the house.

“Jonathan, Caleb and I were out walking
Savrene when it happened. Jean was in the house. He said Hubert
fell on the table and the lamp started the fire. He ran upstairs
and saved Samuel. I don’t know how he got him out of that crib,
but–” She looked at Jean with more love than any mother could
possess. “He saved my baby.” Tears filled her eyes, and she simply
lowered her head and sobbed.

Jonathan set Jean to standing and lowered
himself to his level. He wiped the soot from his cheeks and
forehead with his sleeve and pushed his hair out of his eyes. He
held his little head between his hands, looking him in the
eyes.

“You did a very good thing tonight, Jean. A
very good thing. I’m so proud of you.”

Jean’s bottom lip quivered and he fell into
Jonathan’s hug.

The rain drove down, and Aryl had to speak
loudly to be heard.

“You’ll need to get the coroner,” he told one
of Hubert’s older friends. “We should get him out of the rain.” He
took off his jacket and put it around Ethel’s shoulders, though it
didn't help much. It was soaked through within minutes. He walked
around to stand behind Caleb, touching his shoulder briefly.

“Help me get her out of the rain,” Caleb
asked when he looked up.

Aryl bent down. “Ethel. Let us help you get
into the barn where it’s dry. You’re going to catch cold.” She
shook her head violently.

“No! I won’t leave him!” She grabbed two
fistfuls of his flannel, refusing to let go.

“You need to get out of the rain. It’s
getting worse,” Aryl said gently as he looked up and squinted his
eyes against the storm. It had been the house’s saving grace.
Without it, Aryl knew that a dozen men with buckets would not have
been enough to keep the fire contained, much less put it out.

“No!” she screamed, still staring at Hubert’s
bloodless face.

“Mom–”

“Leave her.” Aryl took his arm and lowered
his voice. “This is the last few moments she has with him. Let her
have them.”

Caleb crumpled roughly beside his mother in a
puddle of muddy rain that had collected around the body and dropped
his head into his hands.

“I need to go look at the damage to the house
and check on Caleb.” Jonathan told the women huddled in the barn.
“Jean, you stay here, you’ll get soaked if you go out there.” Jean
shook his head and grabbed onto him.

“I’ll be right back, I promise.”

“Jean.”

Jonathan turned slowly toward the sound of
Ava’s voice and saw her outstretched hand.

“We need someone to stay here and protect us.
Will you?” He looked over the women and babies and nodded to
Jonathan that he would stay. He walked over and sat as close to
Arianna as possible, stroking the forehead of the baby she was
nursing.

∞∞∞

“Looks like the kitchen is completely
destroyed. There’s smoke and water damage a few feet into the
living room, and the first five stairs are gone along with the
banister,” Aryl assessed. Jonathan and Aryl walked slowly through
the darkened house, each holding a kerosene lamp to light the way.
Jonathan turned to look at the charred hole where the door once
stood.

“Well, they can’t stay here. Not until all
this is repaired.”

“Caleb, Arianna and the babies can stay with
us. We have the extra bedroom,” Aryl offered.

“What about Ethel?”

“I think it would be best if she stayed with
one of her close friends. She’d be more comfortable.”

“You’re probably right.”

They walked out onto the smoke-blackened
porch and saw that all of the volunteers had migrated to the barn.
Caleb was helping Ethel walk, who looked on the verge of collapse.
A fresh wave of hysteria and tears erupted as the coroner arrived
to take Hubert’s body.

Jonathan explained the extent of the damage
and the sleeping arrangements for the night. Ethel’s best friend,
June, stood by her side with an arm around her.

“Ethel can stay with me as long as she needs
to.”

“All right. Caleb and I can go back inside
and try to get whatever you might need for the next few days. The
things upstairs should be fine, except for the smell of smoke.”
June rattled off a few things Ethel needed; Bible, toothbrush,
robe, hairbrush. Jonathan made a mental list while telling Caleb to
grab everything he could carry for the babies.

∞∞∞

Close to midnight, Arianna got the babies
settled in the corner of the extra bedroom of Aryl’s home. Jean’s
head wobbled heavily, but he fought to stay awake, clinging to
Jonathan. He carried him inside Aryl’s house, and Jean nodded off
briefly on his shoulder while Jonathan said the usual words of
consolation to Caleb. Caleb thanked Aryl for housing them and
excused himself to bed, exhausted and emotionally drained.

Jonathan stood with Aryl after their friend
had disappeared upstairs into the bedroom. He shifted Jean on his
shoulder as he spoke.

“Rebuilding is going to have to begin as soon
as the storm is over,” Jonathan said quietly. “I know I don’t need
to ask, but I thought we could take some out of the business
savings for supplies.”

“Of course,” Aryl agreed. “We’re going to
have to take some time off work. Maybe a week if some neighbors
pitch in to help. What about Hubert’s funeral? Who’s going to be
organizing that?” Jonathan went over his mental checklist,
organizing the things he needed to address right away and things
that could wait.

“I heard Caleb say his mother would with the
help of their friends. I’m not so sure that’s something he can
handle right now.” Aryl slumped down on the sofa, looking up as
Jonathan continued. “I think it’s best to keep Caleb busy. I’ll
come back in the morning. We can go back to the house and start
making a list of things we’ll need for rebuilding.” Aryl nodded
with a yawn, closing and opening his eyes in an exaggerated
blink.

“I’m beat.”

“We all need some sleep,” Jonathan said as he
made his way to the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

He walked out to the car where Ava was
waiting and set Jean in the center of the narrow bench seat. He
woke briefly, looking around in confusion and then slumped over
onto Ava’s arm. She moved hesitantly as she lifted his head to free
her arm and put it around his shoulders. He melted into her side,
and she held him loosely with both arms to keep him from falling
forward in his deep sleep. Jonathan watched from the corner of his
eye, silently relieved and deeply hopeful.