Midnight Whispers (Cutler 4)

"I'm looking for them, Jefferson." I put him down, took his hand and approached the closest fireman.

"Hey," he said when he saw us, "you children better get back."

"We're looking for my parents," I said. "Did they come out back here?"

"No one's come out back here. Now take that little boy and get back," he ordered firmly.

With my heart pounding, I retreated with Jefferson slowly. We went to the gazebo and sat on the steps, watching the firemen work. Jefferson's eyes swelled from crying, as did mine. Finally, we both sat silently, dry-eyed, simply staring ahead, waiting. Jefferson laid his head against my shoulder and I held him tightly. The flames began to grow smaller, even though the smoke grew darker and thicker. It drifted off in a sooty cloud and the ocean breezes carried it into the distance. I don't know how long we were sitting there, stunned and afraid, but finally I heard Richard scream, "THERE THEY ARE!"

With relief bursting through me I turned in his direction. I saw Richard, Melanie, Mrs. Boston, Julius and Aunt Bet. They hurried in our direction. Jefferson sat up, his eyes widening, the sight of Mrs. Boston bringing him the most comfort.

"Where's Mommy?" he demanded.

"Oh honey child, oh baby," Mrs. Boston said.

"My mother?" I asked her. "Daddy?"

She shook her head.

Jefferson started to wail again, loudly this time, and his cry, shrill and sharp, got caught up in the same breeze that carried the ugly smoke away. Mrs. Boston scooped him into her arms and rained kisses of comfort over his face.

I stood up, my legs feeling like rubber, but my head so light I thought it was like a balloon and might snap off and be carried away with the smoke and Jefferson's screams.

"Christie," Aunt Bet said.

"Where are they?" I asked and held my breath. "Didn't they come out?"

She shook her head.

"WHERE ARE THEY!" I demanded.

"They found them together . . . in the basement," Aunt Bet said and bit down on her lower lip. Her eyes were red and swollen with tears. "Oh, Christie," she added and began to sob.

Then, my feet turned into air and so did my legs and my stomach and my chest and my neck until my head had nothing to hold it up.

I folded and fell softly, just like the balloons on my birthday, floating down, down, down. The world around me which had once been as colorful and as magical and wonderful as a soap bubble popped and everything went dark.

"She will be all right," I heard someone say. I thought I had my eyes open, but it was pitch dark. "Just give her some light, sweet tea and a little toast. An emotional trauma like this can be as devastating to the body as something physical. But she's young, she's strong. She'll recuperate."

"Mommy?"

"She's waking up," I heard Aunt Bet say.

"Yes. Keep the cold compress on her forehead a while longer."

"Mommy?" The darkness began to retreat. It fell back like the tide, and in its place, I saw the ceiling of my room and then the walls as my eyes moved slowly, hopefully downward, anticipating Mommy's concerned and loving face near me. But all I saw were Aunt Bet and Doctor Stanley, our family physician. He smiled and nodded, strands of his light brown hair down over his forehead and nearly over his eyes. As usual, he needed a haircut desperately. I once told Mommy that Doctor Stanley reminded me of a poodle. She laughed and confessed she thought so too.

"He's a very good doctor and a very nice man, but he doesn't take much care with his personal appearance," she admitted. I could hear her voice so clearly in my memory, I was sure she was somewhere in the room.

"Where's Mommy?" I asked, turning to look everywhere. I could barely utter words, my throat ached so; and my chest felt as if something heavy had been on it for hours and hours. When I didn't see her, I lifted my head from the pillow and instantly, the room spun. I groaned and closed my eyes.

"You have to take it easy, Christie," Doctor Stanley advised. "You've had quite an emotional shock and your equilibrium has been sent into orbit."

"I feel so tired," I said, or at least I thought I said it. I couldn't be sure anyone heard my words. But I felt Aunt Bet take my left hand into hers and I opened my eyes and saw her beside me. She smiled weakly, her eyes swollen from crying. She looked so much thinner to me, her nose sharper, her cheekbones and jawbone so much more pronounced. Her normally obedient hair was in revolt everywhere, strands falling every which way.

"Aunt Bet," I said. She bit down on her lower lip, her eyes filling with tears. "My mother and father . . . they never got out?" She shook her head.

I felt as if someone had punched me in the stomach. My body shook with new sobs.