A short story by Heidi Dischler

Emmeline inhaled the smoke without thinking, coughing in a ragged and grizzly sound. She did not know what to do. The fire had gotten out of control. She had no idea what started it. Emmeline had been alone in the second story bathroom when she started to smell it. By the time she got out of the bathroom, though, the fire had already taken over the stairs to leave. Her pale blue dress—the one she had worried so much over that night—was in tatters, soot smeared across its lacy border. But she could not think of that now. She could only think about getting out. Getting Jack out, too.

“Jack!” she cried, stooping low to avoid the rising smoke. She tried to cover her mouth with her sweater, but it was not helping much. “Jack,” she squeaked again. She heard a low moan to the left of her and whipped her head around, hurrying in that direction. Emmeline saw a figure lying on the rug in the hallway. When she got to that person’s side, she exhaled a sigh of relief. 

“Emmeline,” Jack groaned. “Please, Emmeline….”

He trailed off and Emmeline knew she could not wait any longer. “We are going to get out of here, Jack. I promise.” She gently put his arm around her shoulders and hoisted him up. She quickly realized, though, as his body began to slump and his full weight came upon her, that she would not be able to carry him this way. She laid him back down and took a breath. Emmeline looked around frantically, coughing into her sweater. When she looked back down at her beloved Jack, she began crying. Whether it was from the hopelessness she felt or the smoke burning her eyes, she could not tell. 

“Please, God,” she begged as she fell to her knees next to Jack. 

“Em, listen to—” Jack began weakly.

Suddenly, Emmeline knew what she had to do. “Jack, shh,” she said as she smoothed down his chestnut brown hair. She loved him so much, and she was not even sure if he knew it. She stood, grabbing the end of the rug that Jack was laying on and began to drag him. What happened now was what she did not know. 

Emmeline coughed violently as she dragged Jack down the hall. She tried to keep her head below the smoke clouds forming on the ceiling, but it was becoming harder and harder to avoid. 

A crack sounded behind her as she looked back to see the floor engulfed in flames, giving way to the first floor below. Or, what was left of the first floor. She knew she had to hurry. The only way out that she could think of was the windows on the second floor. There were only three, and she was so far away from all of them. 

She pushed forward, taking each raggedy breath, growing weaker with every step. When the window was finally in sight, she fell on the floor, her knees scraping against the wood. She put her head in her hands for in between her and the window was nothing but flames. Emmeline cried but it was becoming increasingly harder to take a breath in. 

Emmeline felt something touch her shoe. She turned to see Jack, barely awake. 

“Jack, I am so sorry,” she cried as she lay next to him. 

He coughed weakly in response and simply played with her hair, holding her as the flames engulfed their intertwined bodies. 

Jack awoke, orienting himself as fast as he could. He was not even sure he could call it “waking up” as he arrived at this scene standing at the bottom of the stairs, flames surrounding him. He blinked several times as he took the stairs two at a time. He had to get to Emmeline. He had to get her to listen. There was no other way. 

He was not quite sure why she never remembered the countless times in this burning house yet he did. He was not sure why they could never leave. He just knew that Emmeline had done everything to save him time and time again, and it never worked. He always ended up back here, climbing the stairs to find her. 

Jack was halfway to the bathroom where Emmeline was when he collapsed. This happened every time and yet the feeling off not being able to breathe still crippled him. His suit had caught fire so long ago, the first night of this fire, and now it disintegrated beneath him as he crawled. 

“Emmeline!” he called as loud as he could. “Emmeline!” 

“Jack? Jack!” he heard her cry. 

He felt hope lift in his chest. Maybe this time she would listen. 

She ran to him and crouched beside him. “Emmeline, you must listen—”

“Jack, I am going to get us out of here. I promise.” 

“Emmeline, no,” he said as he tugged at the sleeve of her dress. It was so beautiful. He knew that night that she had picked it out specifically for him. The same color as the forget-me-nots he used to bring her every morning. It seemed so far away now. Like so many years had passed. 

Emmeline looked as him as if he were crazy.

“Listen,” he said.

“No, Jack, we have to get out of here.” She stood anyway, yanking her sleeve away from him as she grabbed the rug and began to drag him. It was at this point that he knew he lost. It was at this point that he knew he would have to go through this all over again. 

Emmeline coughed as she inhaled without thinking. The smoke burned her lungs as she tried to breath in. She was not sure what had started the fire. All she knew was that the embers and strange orange glow consumed everything. She had to find Jack. 

She ran down the hall calling his name, hoping beyond hope that he was on the second floor. Emmeline was not sure what she would do if he were not. The whole first floor was already destroyed by flames. 

“Jack!” she cried frantically. 

There was a groan to her left. Emmeline hurried over to find Jack, laying on the hardwood floor in the hallway adjacent to the one she had just been in. 

“Jack,” she said, a small amount of panic leaving her body. She had found him. All would be okay now. 

“Em, listen,” he coughed. 

She could not listen. What did he mean “listen”? She had to save him!

Emmeline tried to pick him up. She tried over and over again but could not hold his weight. She looked around for something—anything—that could help her, but there was nothing to be found. She crouched down, her head in her hands, crying tears as smoke filled her lungs. 

“Emmeline,” Jack said softly. 

She looked over to him, seeing hope in his eyes that confused her. 

“It’s going to be okay, Emmeline,” he said.”

What about this was okay?

“Jack, I can’t get us out of here. I can’t save us,” she cried. 

“You don’t need to save us,” Jack whispered. Emmeline could tell he was running out of time. “We have been here before. We have—” he began to cough, the action wracking his entire body. “We have been in this burning house for years.” 

“Jack, what do you mean?” Emmeline said as she wiped the tears from her eyes. 

“I have finally figured it out, Em.” 

“Jack, what?” she said, growing fearful as the flames grew closer. 

“I am so sorry.” 

Em looked at Jack from across their living room wondering how those four words just came from his mouth. It had been years. Years of waiting for an apology. Years of not feeling good enough in their marriage. Years of feeling so alone that the only person in that house she could trust was herself. 

“Em, I am so, so sorry for what I did to you. You have been here, you have stayed for our children, and now I’m asking you to stay for me. I know I don’t deserve you. I know I haven’t been the best husband for the last few years, but, Em, I need you. I understand that now. Please, don’t give up on me now.” 

Emmeline looked at him, knowing that the children were upstairs in their bedrooms, knowing that even though she had ten feet between her and Jack that she still felt alone, knowing that he had done so much in the past few years putting her through hell. She had tried to save this marriage. She had tried over and over and over again to save what they had. But was it too late now? 

“Please, Emmeline. You couldn’t save us by yourself, but now you don’t have to. We can save each other. We can make this work. I’m sorry, Em. I’m sorry for everything.” Jack looked at her pleadingly. It felt as if he looked straight into Emmeline’s soul. 

She watched as he held the forget-me-nots out to her, asking her—begging her to close the distance between them. She felt hot, her chest tight, her lungs on fire. She knew, though, that she had not given up. That this is what she has always wanted to hear. She knew she couldn’t save their marriage by herself, but with his help? It just might be possible. 

Emmeline walked over to Jack and took the bouquet gingerly. He looked down at her with tears in his eyes, and she couldn’t help herself: she threw her arms around him, breathing in the scent of him. All at once, the burning, the fire, the smoke went away, and while they still had a long way to go, Emmeline knew that they could be saved.