Chapter 5
The headlights of Rox’s car picked out the kids immediately the moment it turned into the lane. They froze. Then throwing caution to the wind, they ran towards her car. On reaching it, they thumped hard, shouting and gesticulating all the while, fear written all over their pinched faces. Only when Rox stepped out of the car could she see the reason for their extreme agitation. Or rather she smelt it first. Smoke. As she gathered the trembling boys to her, she saw the first flames leapt up at one of the mansion windows on the first floor.
Rox pushed the boys away from her and asked grimly, ‘Are both of them still inside?’ They nodded numbly.
Rox took a look at the engulfing flames and came to a decision. ‘I’m going in to look for them. Now stay here and wait for San and Ben. They’ll be here soon. Do you know how to use this?’ She passed her handphone to Jeff. Again they nodded.
‘Call the fire brigade,’ she said. ‘Don’t worry. Everything will be alright.’
Only when she reached the huge wrought iron gate did she realize that she did not know the way in at all. A heavy chain held the gates fast with the help of a massive rust encrusted padlock. Suddenly Rox felt a tug on her sleeve and she looked down to see Tan.
‘This way,’ he said shyly. Meekly she followed him along the thick bamboo hedge leading away from the gate. All of a sudden he disappeared. Rox stood around nonplussed. ‘This way,’ came the whisper from somewhere at her feet. She squatted. Only then could she see the small hole in the hedge through which Tan had disappeared. Even then it was by the light emitted by the flames in the mansion. Rox crawled her way through, the bamboo hedge shaking violently from her exertions. Yeah, she thought wryly as the bamboo caught at her again, more incentive to lose some weight.
‘Hurry, this way,’ Tan had one eye on the flames as he helped a shaky Rox to her feet. He guided her along the side of the mansion picking his way deftly between toppled flower pots until he reached the kitchen area. ‘This is the way in.’ He showed Rox a broken window.
‘Now go back and stay with Jeff,’ said Rox as she swung her legs awkwardly over the window sill. Tan disappeared without a word. It was dark in the kitchen. Rox wished she had come better prepared. A light would come in handy now, she thought. There was a clatter of pots and pans when she accidentally bumped into them. She cursed under her breath when her groping fingers struck something sharp. As she nursed her sore finger, she made out a door knob and yanked it. It creaked eerily as it opened. The light was much better here. But then came the faint smell of smoke. She seemed to be in a passageway with numerous rooms on both sides of it. Most of their doors were open hence letting in streams of street light. Rox ran from door to door, searching for the kids. ‘Jam, Su,’ she called. ‘It’s me, Rox. Come on out.’ There was no reply. Even in her headlong rush, Rox noted the opulence of the mansion in days gone by. A music room with its grand piano in drapes. A library with dusty tomes lining its walls from floor to ceiling. Four or five guest rooms with antique furniture. At the end of the passage Rox could only stare at the sheer grandeur of the living room. On both sides french windows opened out onto the garden. A huge chandelier hung from the ceiling, two stories above her. Even with its furnishings under cover, Rox was impressed. I must remember to take time out to build something like this, she vowed. This is thoroughly impressive. She gawked at the gilded staircase that snaked its way upwards. Only then did she realized that the first flames had reached its banisters. Where were the children? She ran up the stairs two at a time calling their names. At the top of the first flight of stairs she watched in horror as flames leapt out of some of the rooms. Up the second flight of stairs she went only to bump into a tearful Su carrying Bebe on her hip. Even in floods of tears and a cheek that was beginning to swell, she looked lovely.
‘Jam has locked himself in the attic,’ she babbled wildly. ‘He won’t come out. I tried to persuade him. I told him the house is on fire. He just said that he was sorry he hit me, that it won’t ever happen again, that this fire wasn’t my fault, that it was meant to be, that it will take care of everything….’ Her big beautiful eyes opened wide with horror as she realized what Jam wanted to do. ‘Oh Rox, we’ve got to get him out. He wants to die in this fire.’
‘Where’s the attic?’ Rox demanded.
Su pointed down a passageway. ‘At the end there’s a small staircase going up into the attic,’ she said. ‘Come.’
Rox turned her round and said, ‘No, I’ll go.’ Su made to protest. Rox shook her gently, ‘Think of Bebe. You’ve got to get her to safety. Please go quickly. We’re wasting time arguing here.’ For a second, Su hesitated. Then she spun on her heels and ran down the stairs.
Relieved, Rox headed for the attic. Even as she did so, smoke was seeping through the wooden floor boards. Everything seemed surreal. She felt like she was on a stage in a rock concert. When she came to the small staircase, she climbed it only to find the attic door locked.
‘Jam,’ she called. ‘It’s me, Rox. We’ve got to get out of here fast. This place is going to go up in flames soon.’
There was a crash inside, the sound of something fragile breaking like someone startled or someone taking his frustration out on something. Silence. Then a subdued voice said, ‘Leave me alone. Why are you here? There is always trouble whenever you turn up.’ Rox grinned wryly to herself. She had heard this before many a time. Trouble? She preferred to call it change.
‘There will be trouble if you don’t open up. It seems that the stub Su snatched from you has started a fire. Can you smell it, feel it? Should anything happen to you, Su will never forgive herself.”
That did it. The lock clicked and the door opened a crack. Enough for Rox to push it wide open. The unexpected force of it threw Jam against a clothes rack which collapsed under his weight. Rox collared him and dragged him out without minimal resistance. At the doorway he gasped and she gaped at the sheets of flames beckoning cheekily at them. The way forward was unquestionably blocked. Jam broke loose from Rox and dived back into the attic, saying, ‘This way.’ He ran nimble footed like a deer, pulling sheets off several items. What they were Rox could not make out in her mad headlong rush. She only knew she had to follow Jam and try not to step on the sheets trailing behind him. ‘My,’ she thought. ‘What a big attic.’ It seemed to stretch the whole length of the roof. Rox was blindly following the sheets when Jam stopped and threw open a window. It let in air, cool refreshing air which displaced the musty dusty and now, increasingly smoky air inside the attic. And it let in light, light which picked out the bright yellow gas cylinders stashed here in the attic. There must be three of four of them looking very sinister in the dim light. Damn fool, Rox swore under her breath, whoever tucked the cylinders here. When the fire reaches these, it will be end of us. The very idea galvanized her into more frenzied action. Even as she did so, she could see the flames licking at the doorway which they had come through a few minutes ago.
Jam was busy tying the sheets together. Rox took one end of the makeshift ‘rope’, cast around wildly and located a heavy teak chest of drawers. She tied the rope to one of its legs and tested its strength. Something tore and gave way even as she did so. Oh God, I hope it holds, she prayed. When she turned back and nodded, Jam threw the other end out of the window. Then he leaned far out, trying to gauge the distance to the ground. Rox joined him and the wail of approaching sirens drifted up to them.
‘Do you think the rope is long enough?’ Jam asked, the uncertainty in his voice and manner very appealing. He was back to being a child, someone to be taken care of.
‘There are no more sheets left. If it’s not long enough, we would just have to drop to the ground below,’ Rox said. ‘Come, hurry. You go first.’
Jam backed away, his eyes averting Rox’s. ‘No, you should go first.’
Yeah, let him go. He’s just a street urchin. Nobody will miss him.
Rox swung Jam round and pushed him against the window. For
a moment, they clung to it, looking out. Enough time for her to see little figures down below scuttling here and there pointing upwards and one lone burly one holding his beloved camera, all caught in the beams of light coming to a stop at the mansion gate. Rox took hold of the collar of Jam’s T-shirt and hissed into his face. ‘What would the world think of me if I go down first and let a child stay? I’ll never be able to hold up my head again. So hurry, climb down now.’
Jam held onto the window sill like a drowning boy clinging onto driftwood and wailed, ‘I’m scared.’
‘Look,’ Rox said. ‘I’m scared too but we’ve got to try. I’m not even sure these sheets can take my weight.’
But the boy was babbling about other matters close to his heart. ‘I’m scared I’ll hit her again. She couldn’t understand. I can’t stop smoking. I tried. I did try. But I just can’t. It’s hard. I didn’t know it would be so hard.’
Now what, seems like we’ve a future junkie to deal with. Go, my dear Rox, save yourself. This bit of humanity isn’t worth saving. There just isn’t time.
‘Shut up and listen to me,’ Rox unclasped the sobbing boy and took him into her arms. ‘Look, even adults have trouble overcoming this problem. You can’t go it alone. You need help, professional help. Now go on, climb over. Find San, I think she’s down there. Tell her about your smoking problem. She knows what to do. Do it for yourself, do it for Su, do it for the rest of the boys. They haven’t started, have they?
The curly mop shook itself vigorously. ‘I don’t think so.’
‘Good. Now go.’ Rox pushed the sniffling boy away from and smiled reassuringly. He gave Rox a watery smile and then he was off and out of sight, the ‘rope’ sawing away at the window sill as he made his way down.
Rox, ever the heroine to the rescue. Are you sure this is worth it? When are you going to save yourself? Look, there’s still a chance. Just grab the ‘rope’ and go. There’s no need to wait till he reached the bottom.
Just then there was a tearing sound as part of the fabric gave way. The ‘rope’ slipped a foot or so but held. Screams from below. Rox patted the taut ‘rope’ and whispered a quiet ‘thank you’. The heat from the approaching flames was now unbearable. She turned back to see the first flames licking at the gas cylinders. In those flames she saw the manner of her end.
Is the boy really worth this?
The terror in her rose like vomit. She backed away until her back came up hard against the window. With an effort she turned away from the encroaching flames, keeping her eyes on the taut rope chanting ‘Yes, he is. Yes, he is.’ It calmed her considerably. As in the story books, excerpts of her life flashed before her. It came to the one when she was arguing with her mother about whether she should put in one last stroke on her painting. She was all for it, her mother against. Her mother’s words had been, ‘Think well before you do it. That one last stroke could ruin the whole painting.’ Is my last stroke in life the correct one, Rox wondered? Just then the ‘rope’ went slack, followed soon by a blinding flash of light and Rox wondered no more.
The End
Connect with SiewJin Christina Jee online:
Blog: https://heichristie.blogspot.com/:
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100003035200051
Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/savvyjee
Last Stroke of the Brush Page 7