Fire, The (44 page)

Kevin got up from the sofa, stretched his legs, and walked around the large lobby, mostly to get his bearings and remind himself that he was still alive. When his head and body seemed back in working order, he ran a hand through his hair, grabbed his jacket and his hat, and approached the desk, where a harried clerk checked off names on some kind of list.

"Can I help you?" the clerk asked.

"I just have a question. Do you know if the west side sustained any damage?"

"I'm not aware of anything significant."

"I'm particularly interested in City Hospital."

"It's still in one piece, as far as I know."

"That's good. Thanks for the information."

Kevin had been too tired to think about anything when he had collapsed on the sofa, but now he was as focused as ever on doing something he probably should have done last night. It was time to walk to the corner of Cedar, head six blocks west, and carry off the woman who would be his bride. He put his hat on his head and stepped out the door onto Seventh Street.

The scene outside blew him away. He saw the courthouse and a furniture store but little else. The east end of Wallace was a smoldering ruin.

He remembered from a brochure he had read that the fire had done its damage in less than two hours, destroying 150 homes and numerous businesses, including the iron works, a hardware store, a general mercantile, and a hotel between nine and eleven. Even from a distance, he could see that the brochure writer got it right. If anything, the devastation looked worse.

Kevin could also see a host of contradictions. A few brick buildings lay in fragments while many more vulnerable landmarks, such as trees, telephone poles, overhead wires, and even an oil tank, remained largely intact. When he reached the grounds of the courthouse, he saw a melted beer bottle sitting atop a barely tinged insurance policy.

If there was a silver lining to all of the property damage, it was that many property owners had managed to buy fire insurance while the buying was good. He knew from what he had read that residents would rebuild the town in just a few years.

Kevin returned to Seventh and Cedar and commenced the short walk to the hospital. As he moved past the hotel and a bank that shared the same block, he saw a sheet of paper blow across the street and stop at his feet. The flier advertised a play.

The flier triggered a flood of memories of an April night, a night he had gone to dinner and a show with Sarah, Andy, and Sadie. He remembered the joy on Sadie's face when she had shared her knowledge of British battleships and the joy on Sarah's face when he had kissed her for the first time under a comet-streaked sky.

Kevin realized then just how important his time-traveling trips had been. They had been more than thrilling adventures that had given him a front-row seat to history. They had been life-changing experiences. Because of the things he had done here and the friendships he had formed, he had discovered his personal and professional potential. Better yet, he had found love.

Kevin thought about the life he'd had for twenty-two years, the life he'd had in Wallace in 1910, and the life he wanted to lead. He knew there would be challenges ahead, starting with how he would introduce his turn-of-the-last-century fiancée to his information-age family. He could just imagine the howls if and when he told them the truth.

He knew also that some of these challenges might last months or even years. He wasn't just bringing a girl home to Mother; he was bringing a human being into another century. On many occasions he had tried to imagine how Sarah would adjust to the constantly changing advances, norms, and expectations of the new millennium. Would she adapt quickly? He didn't know.

What he did know is that he could not imagine this life, or any life, without Sarah at his side. She had become the center of his universe, and at 9:30 a.m. on August 21, 1910, the center of that universe was just two blocks away.

CHAPTER 75: KEVIN

Kevin breathed a sigh of relief as he approached City Hospital. The place had not been touched, nor had the grounds around it or the forest behind it. Had the fire continued its path down Placer Creek, it would have taken out the facility and everyone in it in a matter of minutes. Perhaps it had a conscience after all.

That's not to say that the hospital didn't look any different. It did. Discarded bandages, bottles, and other debris littered the walkway leading to the front door, evidence that even a place relatively far from the flames had had a different kind of night.

Kevin walked through a nearly empty lobby, said hello to a man he had met his first month in Wallace, and continued to the reception desk. A nurse who didn't look a day over eighteen greeted him as he approached.

"Good morning. How can I help you?"

"I'm looking for a woman who volunteered here last night. She would have come in around six thirty or seven. Her name is Sarah Thompson."

"That name doesn't sound familiar, Mr. . . ."

"I'm Kevin Johnson, her fiancé. We got separated last night and agreed to meet here."

"I just started this morning and don't know many people," the nurse said. "Let me see if the other nurses know anything."

The nurse left her station and retreated down one of two hallways that provided access to the rest of the facility. She returned five minutes later with an older woman Kevin knew by face but not by name. The woman looked like she had seen a ghost.

"Are you Mr. Johnson?" the older nurse asked.

"I am. Like I told your colleague, I'm looking for Sarah Thompson. She volunteered here last night while I went out and chased fires. I'm supposed to meet her here."

Kevin feared something was wrong the second the older woman lowered her eyes. He
knew
something was wrong when he saw her try to hold back tears.

"Miss Thompson did volunteer here last night, but she's no longer a volunteer," the woman said. "She's a patient."

"She's a what?"

"She's a patient. She's being treated in Room 15."

Kevin had not panicked once in several hours of fighting fires and saving lives Saturday night, but he panicked now. He threw his hands on the desk and glanced around the reception area for any sign that might direct him to Room 15.

"She's down this hallway," the older nurse said. "I'll take you."

Kevin prayed hard as the nurse led him thirty feet to an open door. He didn't know whether the prayers would do any good, but he feared he would need them. Nurses didn't hold back tears over cuts and scrapes or even broken legs.

When he stepped into the room, he saw the scene he had feared. Sarah lay in a bed, eyes closed, as four people sat in chairs and maintained a vigil. They included the Marshalls, Marie Denton, and Dr. Carson Payne, who Kevin had met at Josh Miller's funeral. The women looked at Kevin with tear-filled eyes. The men simply looked away.

"What's going on here?" Kevin asked in a forceful, angry voice.

"You'd better take a seat," the doctor said.

Kevin ignored the others in the room and raced to an empty chair at Sarah's side. He saw her turn her head as he sat down.

"Kevin, is that you?"

"It's me, honey. I'm here."

He grabbed her hand and squeezed it gently but felt no response. He could sense weakness that he had never seen nor felt.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

Sarah shook her head feebly as she struggled to breathe. She opened her eyes slightly only after Kevin applied more pressure to her fingers.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered.

Kevin kissed her hand and then lowered it to the bed as he wrestled with several emotions, including fear, sadness, frustration, and rage. He yielded to the last two when he scanned the room and saw several people who owed him some answers.

"You stay with Sarah," he barked at Bertha Marshall. "I want the rest of you outside."

Payne opened the door and held it open as Kevin, Marie, and George Marshall walked through. He then closed the door and met the others in a nearby waiting area.

Kevin didn't wait a second before going on the offensive.

"When I left Sarah last night she was strong and healthy. She
walked
to this building to volunteer her time. Now she's in a bed gasping for air. What happened?"

"She tried to save us from the fire," George said as he struggled to maintain eye contact.

"She did what?"

"She ran into my house to save Bertha and me, but we had already escaped out the back door. I didn't even know she was in the house until I heard a scream. I pulled her out with the help of a neighbor."

"What was she even doing there?" Kevin asked Marie. "She asked you to warn them."

"I
did
," Marie hissed. She glared at George before returning to Kevin. "I did. They wouldn't listen. They went to bed instead."

Kevin threw a hand to his head and spun around as confusion joined the mix.

"Let me get this straight, old man. Marie here warned you not to go into your house, but you did anyway?"

George nodded and lowered his head.

"You people are insane!" Kevin screamed.

"Calm down, young man," the doctor said.

"Calm down yourself! I allowed her to come here because I thought she'd be safe."

Payne looked at the others and pointed with his head toward the room.

"Why don't you two return to the patient?" he asked.

George and Marie complied without a word.

"OK. Let's hear it," Kevin said as he tried to control his anger. "What's wrong with Sarah? Why is she barely conscious?"

"She took some smoke, son, a lot of smoke. She's suffering from respiratory failure. Fluid is building in her lungs."

"What are you going to do about it?"

"There's not anything I
can
do."

"The hell there's not. Give her some oxygen, damn it!"

"I don't have it," the physician said firmly.

Kevin turned away as the truth set in. He wasn't talking to a doctor in a major medical center in 2013. He was talking to a doctor in a small rural hospital in 1910 – a doctor who didn't have access to the even the most basic tools of modern respiratory therapy.

"Then let me take her to a place that does."

"I will not let you move this patient, Mr. Johnson. I will remain firm on that."

Kevin walked to the far side of the corridor and punched the wall. This had become a nightmare of unimaginable proportions. He knew the doctor was right. Even if he were able to get Sarah to 2013, he might have to drive her as far as Spokane to find the treatment she needed – treatment that might not work in any event. When he looked again at Payne, he broke down.

"Please tell me she's not going to die. I can handle anything else. Just tell me she's going to walk out of here. Just promise me that."

The physician embraced Kevin as he fell into his arms and succumbed to sobs. A moment later, he stepped back and put his hands on the younger man's shoulders.

"I can't promise you anything," he said. "I know only that time appears to be growing short. Go to her, son. Go to her now and don't waste a minute. I'll clear the room."

Payne led Kevin into Room 15 and motioned for the others to leave. When the three walked out, he closed the door and left the couple to themselves.

Kevin returned to his chair and retrieved Sarah's hand. She seemed weaker now and far less alert. When she subtly squeezed his hand, he kissed her on the cheek.

"I'm back, sweetheart, I'm back, and I'm not leaving."

"Kevin, are you OK?"

Kevin looked at his fiancée through eyes that could barely function. Tears that had started in the hallway now flowed freely. He couldn't imagine what he had done to deserve this day.

"I'm fine, Sarah. Please rest. Please save your energy."

Kevin placed his head next to hers and noticed a change. The breaths he could hear were shorter, harsher, and far more labored. He attempted to straighten her pillow but stopped when he heard her cry out.

"It hurts," she said. "It hurts."

Kevin slammed his free hand against the side of the bed and cursed. He could not believe that fate could be so incredibly cruel. He stared at the ceiling for a moment, said another prayer, and tried to pull himself together. When he returned to Sarah, he saw she had worsened.

"Can I get you anything, sweetheart? Just name it."

"No," she said in a barely audible voice. "Just stay. Just stay."

"I'm here. I'm not leaving."

Sarah clutched her chest as her breathing became even more labored. For more than a minute, she moved her hand over her body in a desperate attempt to find comfort. When the pain apparently subsided, she turned toward Kevin and opened her eyes as far as she could.

"Kevin?"

"Yes, Sarah. I'm here."

"Make me a promise."

"Don't talk, honey. Save your strength. Please!"

"Be happy," she said.

She opened her eyes a little wider.

"I love you."

Kevin stared at the most beautiful human being he had ever known and watched her eyelids flutter to a close. When he saw her head drop and settle into the pillow, he put his hands on her shoulders and shook her gently.

"Sarah? Sarah? Wake up, honey. Wake up," he said as his head began to swim. "Don't die on me. Please don't."

Kevin rested his head on her chest and started to sob.

"You can't die," he said in a barely audible voice. "You can't. We have babies to make and a life to live. We have so much to do. We have so much . . ."

Kevin squeezed a corner of the bed and tried to wish away the pain, which now came at him from every angle and crushed him like a python. When he could stand it no more, he shut his eyes and forced himself to think of other things – the comet, the circus, even the stupid pig on Bertha Marshall's Easter table – but the other things eventually led to the same sad place. They all reminded him of the dead woman in his arms – a woman who would never bear him a daughter or ever again bring a smile to his face.

He released Sarah a few minutes later and fell into his chair. He wanted to yell, scream, and throw things at the wall but found he could do little more than sit motionless and stare into space. The paralysis of grief had already set in, stripping him bare of emotion when he needed it most.