“Prayer always changes things, Max.”
He considered it as he crawled.Prayer changes things, but I don’t know how to pray. I know Evan said to just talk to God like a friend, but is that really enough?
Max called out to the men once again. “Where are you?”
“Here!” The voice was much stronger. He was close.
God, if all I have to do is talk to You, then I’m talking. I’mbegging for direction and help to getthese men and myself to safety. God, please show me the way.
He crawled just a bit farther and heard one of the men coughing. It was just ahead of him. Max crawled forward and reached out. “Joe. Bodhi.” He felt a hand as it flailed in the air searching for help. He took hold of it. “I’m here.”
13
Max couldn’t hold on to the coughing men and crawl, so he got to his feet and squatted down. “Stay low, and I’ll take you to safety,” he said, struggling to breathe in the thick acrid air. He pulled them forward as best he could and moved toward the door.
The flames grew all around them, and Max had to really concentrate to figure out the way out. The smoke was starting to overwhelm his ability to think. Breathing became his only focus.
“I can’t make it,” one of the men gasped. “I can’t ... can’t breathe.”
“Bohdi, you have to keep going,” the other man called out.
“Come on, fellas, it’s not that far.” Max saw a glimmer of light ahead. That had to be the open door to the outside.
Reaching around, he pushed each man forward. “There’s the door. We’re nearly out of the building. Keeping moving. I’m right behind you.”
Seeing them quicken their crawl, Max felt certain they’d renewed their hope. He watched a moment to make certainthey reached the door. When both men had cleared the exit, Max moved forward, but the crackling of timber overhead drew his attention. He glanced upward just in time to see a large piece of the roof come down. Something struck him, and then there was nothing but blackness.
_____
Max felt a burning heat in his throat as he stirred back to consciousness. He couldn’t tell what was happening, but he knew he was being moved. He tried to open his eyes, but he couldn’t see. He heard someone talking, saying something about a boat. For the life of him he couldn’t figure out why there would be a boat. Was he at the lake?
The lake had been like glass that day he and Evie had gone with her brother and friends. It was the most pleasant of memories. She had laughed and talked with him as if they had been old friends instead of new acquaintances. Max had never enjoyed anything more.
Evie.
Where was she? Was she here? He tried again to look around, but there was nothing but blackness and the sound of men’s voices. And then the voices faded away and there was nothing.
_____
When Max finally came to, he could feel the rocking of the boat, and someone was wiping his face with a damp cloth.
“Mr. Garrison, you’re safe. Wake up, we’re almost to shore.”
Max looked at the dark-headed man. He was Italian and came from a big family who lived in a neighborhood of people from his homeland. What was his name? John? Michael? No, it was Matteo. That was it. Max tried to speak, but his throat felt raw and all he could do was cough. The smoky air around them did nothing to help.
“Just relax, Boss. You’re hurt, and we’re taking you to thedoc. They have a medical wagon set up on Nicollet Island. Just lie still.”
Max had no other choice. Once again, he felt the darkness closing in. Looking up, he could see nothing but smoky skies and the worried faces of three of his best employees.
Evie was grateful there weren’t too many injured. Occasionally someone came to them with severe burns, but there weren’t nearly as many needing medical services as Evie and her father had first expected. In fact, so far they hadn’t heard of a single death. That alone was most peculiar for a tragedy of this magnitude.
Charlotte Van Cleve and the ladies of the Aide Society had set up tables and food on the east shore of the river. Mother had left her station near the medical wagons, going to help her friend and make certain that plans were being made for housing. With the additional medical staff now on site to help her father, Evie excused herself to join her for a short time to see what else might be accomplished.
“Evie, how goes the medical needs?” Mrs. Van Cleve asked. “Do you have enough bandages? I’ve brought more with me.”
“We’re doing fine. We haven’t had nearly the problems we anticipated. We haven’t had any deaths.”
“Well, there are two reported, but not exactly from the fire itself,” Mrs. Van Cleve explained. “A child fell from a second- or third-story window and broke her neck. She was watching the fire unsupervised. Then there was a man who suffered a heart attack.”
