FITCH MANSION
The chandelier strikes Brent with
what sounds to Maggie like a sickening thud. She screams his name again
as he hits the ground.
She and Andy stand, frozen, waiting
for him to move, to get up and shake it off, but of course it doesn't happen.
And once that static moment has passed, they rush towards him.
"Brent!" Andy calls out. "Brent,
can you hear me?"
When there is no answer, Maggie lets
out a horrified, "Oh no."
Andy pushes the chandelier, which
is lying over Brent's body, out of the way. He touches Brent lightly, cautiously,
not really sure that he should do anything.
"Brent!" Maggie tries again. "Are
you--Can you hear me?"
But still, no response.
Maggie coughs as some of the smoke
creeps inside of her. She turns to Andy. "What do we do?"
He fumbles for an answer. When he
is able to produce one, it comes out very tentatively. "A phone. We need
a phone. We need to call 911."
"Here--" Maggie reaches down to her
side but finds nothing. "Crap! I left my purse in the car."
"We've got to get out there." He
rises to his feet carefully, bringing her up with him.
"You mean, leave him here?"
"We have to. We can't move him --
it's not safe. And I doubt we could get him out of here anyway. We need
to get outside and call 911."
He is already dragging her through
the smog, trying desperately to avoid contact with the flames. She shrieks
as something else falls from above, but Andy pulls her in closer and she
is safe.
Both of them are coughing heavily
as they stagger through the other end of the living room and into the foyer.
Andy reaches for the front door -- it's so close -- but he remembers a
vague bit of knowledge about doorknobs and fires.
"What are you waiting for?" Maggie
snaps, looking back at the living room as flames tear it to pieces. She
can't even see Brent anymore.
Andy doesn't answer the question.
Looking around desperately, he finally let Maggie go just long enough so
that he can wriggle out of his jacket. Silently thanking the Northwest
climate that can demand a jacket even in June, he wraps the jacket over
his hand and knocks the deadbolt out of place. Then he reaches down, grappling
through the fabric for the lower lock. He gets a grip on it and turns it,
and with a twist of the doorknob, the cool outdoor air comes spilling into
the house.
Maggie practically pushes him out
the door. Still clinging together, they stumble down the stone path back
to the driveway.
Andy's body feels numb, but somehow
they make their way to the car in what seems to be a very short amount
of time. He finds the keys in his pocket and unlocks the door. In a flash,
Maggie is inside and has her hands on her purse. She comes back out with
her cellular phone an instant later and is already dialing.
Andy turns back to the house. Flames
are furiously leaping from some of the windows and smoke is rising from
the house with an alarming urgency. He watches, transfixed, as the fire
devours the place he knew as home for so long.
And suddenly, a burst of panic --
bubbling for so long, since the very first sight of the flames, but only
now able to emerge -- surges through his body. His eyes begin to search
the upstairs windows frantically as he listens to Maggie making the call.
"Mother," he gasps desperately.
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