Don't Believe a Word (23 page)

Phyllis slowly stood up and stared at her face in the bathroom mirror. ‘I look horrible,’ she said.

‘It doesn’t matter how you look,’ said Eden. ‘We just have to get out of here now.’

Phyllis stared at the face in the mirror. ‘Will I be arrested?’

Eden didn’t know what to say. How convincing a liar could she be? ‘No. I’m sure not. You’ll get an attorney. Everything will work out. You’ll see. But you have to get out of here. Now.’

‘I smell like vomit,’ said Phyllis. She turned and glared at Eden. ‘That’s your fault.’

Eden rolled her eyes. All she could smell was gas. ‘I’m sorry about that. You can have a shower later. Right now, you have to come with me.’

‘You probably smell like vomit too,’ said Phyllis.

‘I don’t care,’ said Eden. ‘I’m leaving this house. Are you coming?’

‘After I wash up,’ said Phyllis.

Eden thought of grabbing her, and dragging her out. She reached out for Phyllis’s sleeve. Phyllis jerked away from her grasp and hissed, ‘Don’t touch me. I’m warning you …’

‘The firemen are going to be here any minute,’ said Eden. ‘They’re going to drag you out of here. You can come with me, or wait till they do it. They won’t give you any choice.’

‘Leave me,’ said Phyllis. ‘Please. Leave me alone.’ She picked up the bottle of liquid soap on the sink and squeezed it into her hand.

‘Fine, have it your way,’ said Eden. ‘I’m going. I won’t stay in this house another minute.’ She turned and left the bathroom. Still wearing socks on her feet, she padded down the hallway, clutching her phone with both hands like a good luck charm.

She dodged the boxes lining the hallway, and headed for the front door.

She thought she heard the sound of water running in the bathroom.

And then, just as she reached the front door, she heard a pop, and then crackling. She turned her head to look toward the living room, in the direction of the sound. She saw the leaping flames.

Jesus, she thought. What set it off? Whatever it was, it had begun. She hesitated to throw open the door, for fear the rush of air would cause the fire to intensify. But then, she could stumble outside. Be safe. Out of harm’s way.

And Phyllis would still be in the bathroom.

Leave her, she thought. It’s her own fault. You tried to convince her. Just go.

But it was no use. She couldn’t just leave a fellow human being to die in the flames. Not without at least trying to save her. Reluctantly, she let go of the door knob and ran back down the hall toward the bathroom.

‘Phyllis,’ she screamed. ‘The fire has started. You have to get out. Now.’

Phyllis emerged from the bathroom, wiping her face with a towel. The crackling at the other end of the house was becoming louder, turning into a faraway roar. She looked blankly at Eden. ‘I hear it,’ she said.

Smoke was beginning to filter into the hallway. ‘Come on,’ said Eden, starting to cough. ‘We’ll go out one of the bedroom windows.’

‘All right,’ said Phyllis. ‘I’m coming.’

Still coughing, Eden grabbed her wrist, and dragged her down the hall, away from the fire, to the last bedroom on the left. She could hear the sound of sirens in the distance. ‘Come on now,’ she said, pulling Phyllis into the bedroom which had once belonged to her mother and Flynn. She closed the door behind them and went over to the window. She tried to raise the sash on first one, and then another. She was able to raise each one a few inches, and then they stuck. She jiggled them impatiently, but it was no use.

‘I’ll have to break it,’ she said.

‘With what?’ Phyllis cried.

Smoke was coming under the door. Eden opened the closet and looked inside. Shoes. Clothes. Hangers. Nothing that would break a window. She emerged from the closet, coughing, and looked frantically around the room. On the bureau she saw a lamp. Phyllis was huddled against the wall between the bureau and the corner of the room.

‘Phyllis, that lamp. Is it heavy?’

Phyllis turned to where Eden was pointing and lifted the base of the lamp up.

She turned to Eden and nodded. ‘It’s metal. Cast iron, I think.’

‘Great,’ Eden said. She crossed over to the bureau and picked up the lamp. It was weighty in her hand. Definitely heavy enough to break the window. ‘Here,’ she said to Phyllis. ‘Hold this.’ She handed the lamp to Phyllis and crouched down beside the bureau to unplug it from the wall. The plug was old and felt stiff in the outlet. She worked it loose and tugged it free. ‘There,’ she cried triumphantly, and then started coughing.

The cord suddenly grew taut in her hand. She looked up and saw Phyllis lifting the lamp base aloft with both hands. Phyllis was looking down at Eden. Her gaze was steely.

‘No,’ Eden cried. ‘Stop!’ She reached up to try to cover her head as Phyllis swung the lamp base down on her with all her might.

E
den lay on the floor, her head pounding, her c
heek pressed to the carpet. She tried to open her eyes. The room was filled with smoke now, and there were flames licking at the door. Her eyes were tearing uncontrollably. Eden tried to think, to remember what had happened, how she had ended up here, but her brain was too muddled to deliver answers. She tried to move, but it was no use. Her muscles felt so weak that she could not even lift herself up. Through the window above her, flashing lights threw patterns on the wall. She could hear the commotion outside as people shouted inchoate orders to one another, and sirens continued to sound. Move, she told herself. Help is here. Get up. Get to your feet. But her body refused to obey her commands. ‘Help me,’ she whispered. ‘Someone help me.’

Outside the window, firefighters rushed to the aid of an older woman whom they had watched climb out of the burning house through one of the bedroom windows. The woman was bleeding in several places from where she had hauled herself across shards of glass still fixed in the window that she had broken. She was coughing uncontrollably from the smoke.

‘Hurry up,’ cried one of the firefighters, crouching down beside Phyllis and looking at her worriedly. ‘Bring her one of those insulated blankets. I think she’s in shock.’ He put an arm around Phyllis’s shoulders. ‘We’ll take care of you, don’t worry. My name is Jimmy, by the way. What’s yours?’

‘Phyllis,’ she managed to say between coughs.

‘Okay, well you hang in there, Phyllis. We’ll get you all fixed up.’

Another young man in firefighting gear materialized through the smoke clutching a silver blanket, and handed it to Jimmy. Jimmy wrapped it around the woman’s narrow, shaking shoulders. ‘There you go,’ he said kindly. ‘Now, Phyllis, how are you otherwise? Anything broken? You took quite a tumble from that window.’

Phyllis coughed, and shook her head. ‘It’s all right. I’m okay.’

‘Well, we’ll get you over to the hospital and have them take a look at you when the ambulance gets here. Kheon, where is that damn thing anyway?’

The second firefighter, a broad-shouldered young black man, peered past the phalanx of firetrucks, their red lights blinking, and men in gear training hoses on the house. He looked into the darkness of the street beyond the front lawn. ‘Somebody said they got diverted to a three-car wreck on the highway.’

Jimmy shook his head angrily. ‘That’s typical of this city. They haven’t got enough equipment or manpower to cover all they have to cover.’

‘Amen,’ said Kheon.

Jimmy turned his attention back to Phyllis. ‘Don’t you worry now, Phyllis. They’ll see to you as soon as they get here. Is there somebody we can call for you?’

‘Yes, please,’ Phyllis began to sob. ‘My daughter, Lizzy. My phone is in my pocket,’ she said, rummaging in her pocket and pulling out a phone. ‘Her number is there. I have it listed under “L”. For Lizzy,’ she explained, and then collapsed into a coughing fit.

‘Okay,’ said Jimmy, shifting his weight from one leg to the other, still crouching beside the injured Phyllis. He punched some buttons on the phone and waited. ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘is this Lizzy? Yeah, this is Firefighter James Carmichael from the Seventy-second Precinct. Your mother has just escaped from a burning house. She’s asking for you.’

Jimmy listened a second and then put his hand over the mouthpiece and looked up at Kheon. ‘What’s the address here?’

The fireman told him, and relayed the information to Lizzy. ‘Yeah, we’ll be taking her to the hospital but the ambulance isn’t here yet. No, she’s conscious. I think she’s more shaken up than anything. Yeah, you’re not that far away. You have time to get here. Okay. She’s all right. Don’t speed.’

Jimmy ended the call and handed the phone back to Phyllis, who put it into her pocket. ‘You feel a little better now that you got that blanket over you?’

Phyllis nodded.

‘Now,’ he said. ‘This is very important. Were you the only one home tonight? Is there anyone else still remaining in that house?’

Phyllis looked up at him, blinking back tears. ‘No, sir,’ she said earnestly. ‘I was the only one in there.’

The temptation to just fall back to sleep was almost overwhelming. Eden’s eyes were half-closed, and her head was pounding. The idea of giving in to sleep seemed utterly peaceful and appealing. But she knew she should not. Could not. She probably had a concussion from the lamp base. If she fell asleep, she might never wake up. What is wrong with me? she wondered. And then she remembered. She recalled feeling the lamp cord tighten in her fingers. She remembered looking up and seeing Phyllis, hoisting the metal lamp base above her head with both hands.

The memory of it was sickening. She had let herself believe that this woman, who had killed her mother and brother, and tried to kill Flynn, was not a danger to her. How foolish could she have been?

Stop it, she thought. Stop blaming yourself. You were only trying to save her life. Now think! Eden became aware, again, of the commotion outside, but it seemed to having nothing to do with her. And then she forced herself to focus. Get a grip. You’re in a burning building, she told herself. You have to get out of here.

Have to get out of here now. She tried to raise herself up again, but it was no use. She was too weak. Her chest felt constricted by the effort to breathe in the room which was filling up with smoke. She looked around her. There was a chair lying on its side not far from her on the floor. She gazed at it, wondering why it was lying on the floor. And then it came to her. Phyllis must have used it to climb out the broken window, kicking it over as she went. Now Eden had to do the same … She forced herself to summon up the strength and began to drag herself along the floor. Every inch was painful. The thought of it made Eden want to weep. She knew, vaguely, that she should be angry, but all she could think about was all the despair, all the sorrow that had led her here to this moment. To this house where her mother had lived. To this bedroom which had been her mother’s. Suddenly, Tara was all Eden could think about. She felt a longing, suppressed for years, to be sheltered once more in her mother’s embrace. To be held in her arms.

And then, as if Tara were whispering in her ear, Eden heard an inner voice that urged her to move. Pick up the chair. Climb on it. Get out the window. She reached the chair and began to try to right it. Her arms felt weak, but the chair was an antique, and somewhat spindly. She knew she could lift it if she just marshaled her forces. She pulled herself up to her knees and reached out for the back of the chair. It took her several tries to turn it over and get it upright. Once she did, she used the chair to help herself rise to her feet. Once she was standing, she wobbled. She was afraid to let go of the chair, for fear she would collapse. Outside the room, in the hallway, she could hear the fire roar, and she could feel the heat emanating through the door, the flames starting to eat through it.

Summoning all her strength, and using the chair to balance, she kept herself upright. Making snail-like progress, she dragged the chair underneath the broken window. Now, she thought, if I can just get under it, climb up on the chair, and somehow lift myself up over the jagged glass remaining in the window frame, I can escape to the world outside.

Every breath was a struggle now, her chest aching from the effort. She finally managed to get the chair positioned beneath the window. Now, she told herself, climb up on it. Her arms shook as she lifted up one knee and placed it on the needlepoint-covered seat of the chair. Now the other, she thought. Almost there. She was kneeling on the seat of the chair. It felt like a moment of triumph. But there was no time to celebrate. Gripping the back of the chair with her trembling hand, she leaned to one side, and pulled one knee up so that she was in the classic marriage proposal position. Next effort, she thought, was to stand up. Then she would be able to easily lean out of the broken window, and fall over the window frame to the ground below.

She shifted her weight off of the other knee, and lifted her leg. She was in mid-effort when she heard a thunderous roar behind her. She turned quickly, startled. The fire had burst through the door like a rampaging beast. Eden cried out at the sight, and teetered. She tried to regain her balance, but it was no use. Her stockinged foot slipped from the frame and broke through the needlepoint chair seat. She fell, tumbling to the floor, the chair landing on top of her, her leg trapped in the space where the seat had been.

‘Did you hear that?’ Jimmy Carmichael asked to no one in particular.

‘There she is,’ Phyllis cried. She scrambled to her feet at the sight of Lizzy, dodging fire hoses as she ran across the lawn to her mother. Phyllis opened her arms and Lizzy fell into them.

‘Mom, are you all right?’ Lizzy cried.

‘I am now,’ said Phyllis.

‘I was so worried when the fireman called. I came straight here.’

Phyllis shushed her and ran a soothing hand over her daughter’s hair. ‘It’s all right now. Everything’s okay.’

Lizzy pulled back from the embrace and looked her mother over. ‘Are you sure? Is she okay?’ she demanded of the passing fireman.

‘Well, we’re going to send her to the hospital when the ambulance gets here. Just so they can look her over. But I think she’s okay.’

‘Thank God,’ said Lizzy, looking up toward the inky, star-studded sky. Then, she wrapped an arm around Phyllis, who was cloaked by the insulated blanket. ‘I was afraid you were mad at me. I was afraid you wouldn’t want to see me.’

‘Not want to see you?’ Phyllis exclaimed. ‘That could never be.’

Lizzy gave her mother a tremulous smile. ‘I know.’

Mother and daughter embraced, and then Lizzy pulled away and waylaid a passing firefighter. ‘Excuse me.’

‘This is Jimmy,’ said Phyllis. ‘He’s been very kind.’

‘Thank you,’ said Lizzy sincerely.

‘Just doing my job,’ Jimmy said modestly.

‘Listen, would it be all right if I took my mother home? If we didn’t wait for the ambulance?’

Jimmy Carmichael looked grave. ‘I cannot recommend that, ma’am. She should be checked out. That’s protocol.’

‘Oh. Okay,’ said Lizzy.

‘I just got word that it’s almost here. Won’t be long now.’

Lizzy sighed, and beamed again at her mother. ‘As long as you’re safe.’ Then she frowned. ‘What were you doing out here anyway?’

Phyllis’s eyes went blank for a moment, and then she recovered. ‘I was looking for you. I thought you might be staying here. When I got here the door was open, so I went in. I was calling for you. Then I smelled the gas.’

‘Oh my God,’ Lizzy exclaimed.

‘What?’ asked Phyllis.

Lizzy turned back to the firefighter. ‘Eden!’ she cried.

‘Come again?’ he asked.

‘Eden Radley was staying here. I saw her here earlier this evening. She told me she was sleeping here. You have to go in and look for her. She might still be inside.’

‘Oh don’t be ridiculous. She’s not in there. You’re asking them to go back in that house and it’s dangerous in there,’ Phyllis protested.

‘Your mother told us that she was the only one in the house,’ said Jimmy. ‘Do you think there might be someone else in there?’

Lizzy bit her lip. ‘Are you sure, Mom?’

‘Of course I’m sure,’ said Phyllis.

‘What if she fell asleep, Mom, and you didn’t see her? It’s possible that she’s tucked away somewhere in the house. I’m sure you didn’t go into every room.’

‘If she’d been in there, I would have known it,’ Phyllis insisted.

‘Still, your daughter has a point. If she saw this young woman here earlier, there’s a chance she’s still inside. We need to go in and check. Hey, Kheon,’ Jimmy called out to his fellow firefighter. ‘There may be someone still in there. We have to go in.’

The other firefighter nodded, as if this was the most natural thing in the world. Jimmy jammed his carbon-blotched helmet back on his head, and headed back toward the house.

‘No,’ Phyllis insisted. ‘There’s no one in there. You’re risking your lives for nothing. There’s no one there!’

Lizzy spoke soothingly to her agitated mother. ‘Calm down, Mom. They’re trained to do this. They know what they’re doing. And if it was me … If there was the slightest chance, you’d want them to go back in, wouldn’t you?’

Phyllis was trembling, and didn’t speak. Her face had assumed a sickly yellow cast, the reflection from the blaze.

‘You know you would. So think of Tara. That’s what Tara would want, if she were here,’ Lizzy crooned, squeezing her mother’s thin shoulders. ‘She would want them to make every effort. Of course she would. That’s her daughter.’