An open door. Hanging coats. Vacuum.
A vacuum! The mudroom closet. I crawled across the living room floor, making my way toward the back of the house where the mudroom was. Weaving between pockets of fire, I dodged falling pieces of plaster and crumbling furniture.
I heard a fireman barge through the door. He must have grabbed my mother, pulling her screaming from the house. I continued toward the back of the house.
“My kids are in here,” my dad shouted over the roaring noise.
“We’ll find them… get out!”
I got to the mudroom and reached for the door handle, feeling my skin sizzle under the metal knob. Crying out, I forced myself to turn the knob.
“Ben? Ben? Benjamin?”
I scooted to the closet. Pulling my shirtsleeve over my hand, I pushed the closet door open. I put my arm out in front of me, waving it back and forth, trying to find the vacuum cleaner in the dark, smoky room.
I heard a faint sound of coughing and reached toward it. My arm hit the vacuum. I reached into the space behind it, calling Ben’s name. When I felt his little hand grab mine, I pulled him toward me, hugging him against my chest.
“We have to get out of here,” I yelled close to his ear, my voice raspy from the smoke. My throat felt like someone was ramming a stick of sandpaper down it.
I felt the floor in front of me, trying to get my bearings. The linoleum was curling and melting from the unbearable heat. The room was dark with smoke. I could barely see the yellow-orange glow from the other rooms. I wanted away from the fire. I needed to find the outside door, or even the window. Crawling toward where I thought the door was, I pulled Benjamin with me. A pair of large boots stepped into view. The man grabbed Benjamin in his arms and hauled me from the floor, ushering us quickly toward the back door and into the yard.
He hurried down the driveway, carrying Ben. The basement windows exploded from the heat and pressure, sending glass flying over us. I put my arm in front of my face, protecting it from the shards of glass whizzing by.
I saw my parents at the end of the driveway, two firefighters restraining them. My mother had tears running down her soot-stained face. My dad’s face was red and his neck muscles bulged as he tried to shove the firefighter out of his way.
When we reached my parents, they grabbed Ben and me into a crushing hug, squeezing out what little air was still in our lungs. The four of us stood holding each other, crying in between coughing fits caused by smoke inhalation.
“Ben, where were you?”
“He was hiding in the mudroom closet,” I answered my dad between violent coughs. I still couldn’t inhale enough oxygen, and I felt lightheaded. The faces of my parents started to blur and swirl until I saw nothing but black. I heard my mother scream my name just as I felt myself hit the concrete.
***
I came to as the EMTs were loading me into an ambulance. When I tried to sit up, a hand gently pushed me back against the crisp white sheets.
“Lie down, Milayna,” he murmured, his voice smooth as butter. A voice I knew. One I loved… or at least the person it was attached to.
I looked up into his blue-green eyes. “My parents?”
“They’re getting the car. Ben is in the ambulance.” Chay gestured to the rescue vehicle. “Your parents are going to follow you to the hospital.”
“They’re okay?”
“They’re great.”
“Ben?” I croaked. My throat felt on fire, scratchy and sore. I tried to clear it, but that only seemed to make it worse.
“He’s fine. A cut on his leg and he breathed in a lot of smoke, but he’s already asking the EMTs a million questions about the ambulance.” Chay smiled.
Chay stood quietly next to me, his gaze fixated on the remains of what used to be my house. He reached over and picked up my hand, threading his fingers through mine. I flinched when he touched the burned skin. He immediately let go and gently placed my hand on the gurney next to me, rubbing his thumb softly over the top.
“When did you get here?”
“Just in time to see the basement windows explode on you.” He looked down at me and gently threaded a lock of hair between his fingers before sliding it behind my ear
Xavier walked up and stood next to me on the opposite side of the gurney from Chay. His hands were in the front pockets of his jeans, making his shoulders rise. Chay looked over at him and then back to the fire, his jaw working, his mouth set in an angry line.
“Thanks,” I said.
“I didn’t do anything. I’m glad you’re all okay.” Chay quickly kissed the top of my head before he walked away and disappeared into the crowd. I didn’t see him again that night.
***