Bogeyman. Gayle Wilson
patio that had probably been constructed at the same time as the screened porch was directly below them. There was no sign of the fire here at the very back of the house. If she could get them down, they should be safe.
But there was no drainpipe. No conveniently placed tree. Nothing.
She couldn’t remember how close the trees on the other side of the addition were. She knew there were a couple, however. And shrubbery. But they would have to go over the peak of the roof to reach them.
She shifted her grip on Maddie, so that she held her wrist rather than her hand. It would be too easy for those small fingers to slip away from her.
“Where are we going?”
“To the other side.”
Maddie shook her head, tears welling. “I’m scared, Mama.”
Me, too, baby. Me, too.
“I’ve got you. I won’t let go. It’s going to be all right, Maddie. I promise.” As she made the pledge, she started up the incline.
Although she had to bend in order to maintain her hold on Maddie’s wrist, she managed to reach the peak with relative ease, using her free hand on the shingles for balance. Only when she reached the top did she realize that the real danger would be going down. How could she ensure that she wouldn’t slip on that slanting surface, carrying Maddie with her?
She eased down so that she was sitting on the peak of the roofline. She drew Maddie to her, relishing her small, solid warmth. The little girl was trembling like someone in a chill, but the act of comforting her gave Blythe hope. And it renewed her determination. After all, they had made it this far.
She looked again at the downward slope. Although it wasn’t steep, for someone barefoot and guiding a terrified four-year-old, it would be treacherous.
“You remember when Daddy used to ride you piggyback?” Blythe leaned back, sweeping Maddie’s bangs from her eyes, as she looked into her face.
The little girl nodded.
“Think you can do that again?”
“Up here?”
“Hold on around my neck and put your legs around my back. I’m going to scoot down on my bottom.”
In the silence that followed, Blythe could hear the fire again. She had no idea how long it had been since the alarm had awakened her. It felt like an eternity, yet there were no fire engines. For the first time she realized they might not come until it was too late.
With that incentive, she brought her other leg over the peak and, still holding onto Maddie, scooted down perhaps a foot. Her nightgown rucked up under her, but there was nothing she could do about it. The shingles would abrade her buttocks and thighs, just as they had her hands.
“Piggyback,” she said, trying to position the little girl behind her without losing the grip she had on her arm. “Put your legs around my waist and hold on.”
“I don’t want to.”
“You have to, Maddie. You have to.” Again she made her voice hard. Demanding.
She knew the child was at a breaking point, but she couldn’t deal with hysterics. Not up here. She had to get her off the roof now, even if it meant dropping her over the side as she had dropped her out of the window.
“Get on my back,” she said, pulling sharply on Maddie’s arm. “Do it now, Maddie. Do you hear me?”
Trembling arms fastened around her neck, almost choking her. She reached down and lifted her daughter’s legs to wrap them around her body. She had to push the constriction of the little girl’s gown out of the way, but finally the child was in position, clinging to her back, her cheek resting against Blythe’s neck.
She could hear Maddie sobbing, but she ignored it. She ignored everything except what she had to do.
Using her palms and her feet, she inched down the sloping roof. Given the size of the addition, it was a matter of less than a minute before her toes were at the edge. Then she realized that she wasn’t sure how to proceed from there.
Try to position herself, with Maddie still on her back, to dangle from the roof as she had from the window? But there was nothing here to hang onto. Even if there had been, she wasn’t sure that her arms could support their combined weight—not even long enough to extend her body over the edge.
Drop Maddie, as she had done before? The grass below would be softer than the roof, and she’d suffered no serious injuries from the previous fall. Of course, working on the slanting surface would be much harder than standing on the floor of the bedroom and lowering her out the window had been.
Her eyes searched the area below. Stripped by the winter of their leaves, the foundation plantings looked like stakes, pointing upward, ready to impale them.
The ground then, she decided. Even the dead brown grass would offer some cushion. And what choice did she have?
She glanced up and back. Tongues of flames shot out of the window she’d broken. They had only a couple of minutes at most before the fire would involve the rest of the house, including the place where they were sitting.
“I’m going to swing you off the edge, just like we did before.” She reached up, trying to pry Maddie’s hands from around her neck.
“No. No, Mama. I don’t want to.” The child’s denial was mindless. Panicked.
Blythe didn’t have time to reason with her. Ruthlessly, she pulled at the child’s right wrist, breaking its hold. In response, Maddie’s legs tightened around her waist as she clung like a limpet to what she perceived to be safety.
“Maddie, let go. We have to get down.”
A wail answered her. The wrist she’d captured was ripped from her hold as Maddie again locked both arms around her neck, threatening to cut off her supply of air.
“Look at it. Look up. Do you see the fire? We have to get off the roof, damn it. We have to.”
Uncertain whether her words would have any impact against the child’s fear, she reached again and pulled the clenched hands apart. This time she didn’t let down her guard and allow Maddie to free her wrist. This was life and death. And it was up to her to make sure the choice was not the latter.
Ever mindful of how near the edge they were, she tried to drag the child around in front of her. Realizing she wasn’t going to be able to do that one-handed, Blythe lifted her other hand off the roof, using it, too, to try to manhandle the little girl off her back.
Now beyond any threat that might coerce her to obedience, Maddie struggled desperately to maintain her position. Eventually Blythe’s superior size and strength won out. She wrestled the child forward, breaking the hold of those trembling legs.
As soon as she realized what was happening, Maddie lunged upward toward the peak of the roof, trying to escape. Blythe was forced to turn to keep hold of her daughter. As she did, her foot slipped on the shingles, sending her sliding toward the edge of the roof. Although the distance she traveled was small, her left foot dropped over, almost unbalancing her.
She let go of Maddie, throwing herself prone in an attempt to stop the downward slide. Moving carefully, she pulled the dangling foot back onto the roof and, then using her feet and hands, painstakingly inched her body up the incline.
Although the exertion required had not been great, she was panting, breath sawing in and out of her lungs. When she finally felt secure enough to move again, she turned her head, searching for her daughter.
Maddie was sitting halfway up the slanting roof. Her arms were wrapped around her knees, which had been drawn up to her chin, her nightgown draped over them. Her eyes were the only dark spot in a face literally without color.
In the sudden stillness between them, Blythe was aware of heat beneath her body. The fire had apparently reached the porch. Once it broke through…
“We