“Our house burned down,” one of the other children declared.
Max sobered. “Yes, I know that. All of you lost your homes, isn’t that right?” The children nodded in unison, and Max continued. “I know it was probably very frightening too.”
“We couldn’t go inside to get my dolly,” one girl blurted out.
Max didn’t want to admonish her for speaking without permission but knew it was important to keep order. “If you want to say something, raise your hand and wait for me to call on you.” He smiled at her. “What’s your name?”
“Georgia,” she replied. “We couldn’t even get Mama’s old quilt.”
Max nodded. “I’m sure everyone here lost things that were important to them.”
One of the boys stretched his arm up and waved it at Max.
“What’s your name, young man?”
“Ralph Murphy. We were coming back from seeing my Grandma Murphy. Our house was burned down before we got home, so we didn’t get anything out. We think it burned up Poppet.”
Max frowned. “Who was Poppet?”
“He was our dog. Mama said he was really old and was probably asleep and didn’t even know what happened, but I miss him.” A couple of the other children nodded, leaving Max to wonder if they had lost pets in the blaze as well.
Even though the fire was weeks ago, these children were still focused on what had happened. He wondered if anyone had given these children a chance to talk about what that day had meant to them until now. Maybe that was the best place to start.
“Today, I want to hear your stories about the fire,” Max said, glancing to Evie. She smiled at him as if completely understanding his decision to change their previous plans.
“We’ll start with the youngest children here at the first-grade table and then go to the second grade and so forth. And since it’s getting warm, Miss Turner, would you be so kind as to pull back the canvas on the windows that are still closed?”
“Of course,” Evie replied and immediately went to work.
There had been no money for glass windows, so oiled canvas was tacked up to each of the places left for windows. Once rolled up, immediately a gentle breeze came into the room.
“Now, let’s start back with you, Georgia. Why don’t you tell us where you were when the fire started and how you got to safety?”
At noon, Evie worked quickly to clear the room. Together, she and Max set the tables and chairs for the noon meal and joined the others in the line for lunch. That day they were served a bowl of vegetable beef soup, bread and butter, and a fresh berry mixture that had been sugared. Some of the men had multiple bowls of the hearty soup, but one was more than enough for Evie. At least the temperatures were starting to fall, and even though there still was no sign of rain to come, there was a definite feel of autumn in the air.
After lunch, she and Max took a walk out to the lake. She loved the feeling of just walking at his side. She felt comfortable with him in a way that she had only ever known with family. It was funny how she’d felt that way since the beginning.
“I heard there’s going to be another fund raiser before too long. Your mother was talking about it at lunch,” Max said.
“Yes, Mother likes to host fund raisers at least four times a year. This year, however, there will be only three because of the economy.”
“Things are looking up on that count. More gold is flowing back into the country from Europe, and the banks are steadier,” he replied, leading her to an area where someone had erected several benches. “Would you care to sit a moment?”
“Of course. I’m sure we’ll soon be overrun with children. I heard someone mention bringing them out here for a swim.”
“They won’t be able to do that for much longer.”
Evie shook her head. “I would imagine even today the water will be much cooler than last week, given the break in the temperatures.”
“Speaking of children, you did well this morning.” Max assisted her as she sat, then joined her on the bench.
“You did too. It was smart to let them tell you their stories about the fire. It has had a huge impact on their lives, and theadults around them have been so busy they probably haven’t had time to really listen to anything they have to say.”
“I was particularly touched by girls who admitted to still having terrible nightmares. Poor things.”
Evie gazed off across the lake. “I imagine some of the boys are having trouble too, but of course when you’re a boy, you’re taught to be strong and say nothing. I think it was good you told them that having bad dreams about something like that is perfectly normal and that even you had dreams about that day.”
“It was a very bad day, to be sure. I can’t imagine being a child and enduring such a monumental event.”
