Diana: Kiss me on
the Back of the Black Night
When
I wake I am still wrapped in my dream of George. His lips were still lightly brushing the back
of my neck until I realize it is just a piece of straw stuck through my
mat. I'm still thinking of George and
how safe I felt in the weight of his arms when I remember he is dead. I remember the letter from his captain
telling us of his gallant death. I know
I will no longer sleep so I sit up.
That's when I smell the smoke.
When I stand, I see it's thick in the room. So, I crouch back down and crawl to the
door. When I open it, I see the whole
first floor is covered in flames. Part
of me is still so deep in my dream I want to walk into it: into the other life
where George might be waiting. Who would
know? Who would care? George,
Kiss me on the back of this black night.
That's
when I hear the glass shattering behind me.
A man grabs me like a rag doll and carries me out.
Outside,
there are people standing everywhere.
Fire pours out windows and doors. I stand, dumb, shivering, even next to
this inferno. Who should come up the
slope, but Widow Ricketts flanked by several young men. "Let's form a fire
line" she says. "I've got a
well and some buckets.”
And
with that, I snapped back. It's as if
the fire had been a dream until she arrived.
They handed out buckets and asked people to line up, arms stretched out to
form a brigade. And so we did. For six hours we stood, passing buckets of
cold water from hand to hand until the water was poured on the blaze. At first, the water didn't do much. It fizzled and steamed on the wood. Then, after a few hours, the fire started to
back down. By the time we were done the
hotel was a few dark embers sticking up against the dawn sky. People started to shuffle about not knowing
what to do. In that commotion, Widow
Ricketts came up to me. We were both
black with soot, wearing only our night clothes. She grabbed my shoulder with her warm hand
and said, "Diana, come with me."
I just followed her lead. We
walked down to her house. She passed me
a handful of wool blankets and made a bed for me in her front room. "Let's get some rest," she said,
motioning to the bed as she walked back to her bedroom and closed the door. As I closed my eyes, all I could see were
those flames and the dark part of my heart that wanted to walk into them. It seemed impossible to fall asleep after
what we had seen. So I lay back, opened
my eyes and looked around me. On every
wall, between mounds of dirty and clean laundry were piles and piles of
books. I could smell the must from their
covers. Next to me, was a wooden chair,
a little oak table with an unlit kerosene lamp and on the seat of the chair,
sat a book, pages down.
