Tracy

087:

         

*****087:

"What did he say? What did he say to me?" She screamed as smoke poured from the spot she had just seen Raine disappear into. She clutched the baby to her chest, her neighbor holding the other two, both of them screaming as the smoke and the flames flicked, licked, plummeted, and tumbled over themselves to burn and destroy everything she knew and loved.

She heard a crashing sound as if from far away, and saw flames leap out of the roof, cinders sparkling and landing, dancing in the wind-- the terrible hot lacerating wind. Sirens were coming. Someone was dragging her away.

A fire truck pulled to a stop and she could barely make out firemen moving, laying hose-- water--

"My husband! My husband is in there! He's upstairs! There are people in there!" She was running to the front of the house, then running back—afraid she'd miss Raine's only opportunity to send Steven plunging down to her waiting arms. "My baby is in there! My husband went back in after the nanny! And my baby! He's ten months, almost ten months old!"

A fireman all dressed in gear ran to her, listened to her hysterical screaming, reassured her, and then moved to help. Another engine pulled in, and another, and a helicopter was circling. People were gathering, and she was holding Danny and the girls, rocking them, standing beneath her bedroom window as smoke and flame poured out of it.

Her legs would no longer support her. She sank to the ground, staring blindly skyward at a sight she'd never even imagined could be so terrifying, so monstrous, so unbelievably destructive. There was no sky-- only flames. Flames shot from every window, crashing and roaring the likes of which only a monster could produce. Black smoke came from every crack, and the heat of it was brutal.

Danny was shaking and screaming in fear. Someone tried to take him and she beat at their hands frantically and then shoved both babies into the waiting arms. "Here! Take them! Keep these children! I have to get to my husband!" She ran back to the window where she had last seen Raine, and then beyond, to the back of the house, to the sliding glass doors, the patio, she took a deep breath-- he would have come down those stairs. She couldn't see, couldn't breathe-- she took another deep breath--

"Never, never go into a burning building!" Someone grabbed her arms and pulled her back.

Tracy kicked out, hard, screaming and fighting. "My family is in there ! My baby! Monday! Monday! Steven! Raine!"

She broke free and ran sliding across wet patio brick, and glass. And suddenly something inside exploded-- her ears caught it first, her face registered the blast with a flattening against her cheekbones, and her hair all whipped straight back, as she was thrown off the patio and onto the rock and ash. Cinders and embers rolled at her like a lava flow. She couldn't see. She fell against the person trying to subdue her, and rolled backward, regaining her hearing.

She struggled to her feet. The kitchen wall was gone-- flames were picking up their hungry pace, raging up the side of what was left of her house.

Someone lifted her clear of the ground and pulled her back to the side where the children were still close, huddled. She looked back, frantically.

She pointed. "They're in there. They're in there!"

"You can't save them! Let the firemen do their jobs!"

"Raine! Raine!"

They took her to the front of the house where an ambulance had pulled up lights flaring obscenely. She held up a hand to ward off the circling dizziness. Danny broke free of his restraints and ran to her, grabbing her legs and tripping her to her knees. "No, baby! No! This isn't happening. No!"

Someone handed her one of the twins. She rocked back and forth, watching the smoke circle and devour. "Maybe he's in a part of the house that isn't burning."

Nothing in her life had prepared her to face this. Nothing. And she'd faced a lot.

She huddled on the grass, Danny and both babies in her arms, kneeling, watching the house go up in flames. She started screaming somewhere deep inside herself and couldn't stop. Each second seemed an eternity, each movement brought hope that someone would bring her husband out, or give her baby Steven to her, show her Monday's blonde hair-- but no one did.

******