by Jae
Should she try to jump out the window, to the roof of the Ohio House below?
Before she could gather her courage, the boardinghouse next door seemed to bow to hers, tilting toward it at a crazy angle. A second later, it collapsed in a heap of splintered boards. Bloodcurdling screams of the tenants drifted over.
Then a cloud of dust swept in through the shattered window, choking her.
Coughing and spitting, she strained to get away from the window. She struggled up the sloping floor toward the door. Twice she fell. She crawled the last yard on her knees.
A booming crash came from below, and the floor sank beneath her. With horrifying clearness, Giuliana realized what was happening: the boardinghouse was going down too.
With another crash, the next floor collapsed and then the one directly beneath hers. The cries of people being crushed to death drifted up. She hung on to the knob of the jammed door as the building went down beneath her.
* * *
What? Someone was shaking her. Kate opened her sleep-crusted eyes with a groan. Through mere slits, she registered the dim light of dawn filtering in through the curtains. Why were her parents or Obedience waking her at this ungodly hour? “Not yet. I only just fell asleep.” She closed her eyes again.
A crash from the other side of the room startled her wide awake.
She sat up straight and realized that no one was shaking her—the earth was shaking, flinging her from side to side in the bed.
The chandelier above her swung back and forth like a pendulum. The golden clock on the mantelpiece hopped up and down and then crashed to the floor, but not before Kate had caught a glimpse of the time.
5:12 in the morning.
She hung on to the headboard as the bed shuddered and bucked beneath her.
After what felt like forever but was probably just a minute, the shaking stopped.
Slowly, Kate sat up in bed and took several deep breaths. She found her slippers and put them on before getting up and donning her robe.
Just as she was tying the belt, the shaking started again. At first, Kate thought it was just an aftershock. It had been the same way in the earthquake of 1898, a few days after Corny had died. But this time, instead of stopping after a few seconds, the shaking became even more violent.
Kate couldn’t stay on her feet. She tumbled back with a scream and landed on the bed. Once again, she hung on to the headboard like a circus rider to a wild horse as the room seemed to twist and bounce around her.
The framed black-and-white picture she’d taken of Mount Tamalpais last spring was thrown off the wall. Downstairs, pots banged in the kitchen, and a vase toppled over in the hall.
Then, as suddenly as it had started, the quake stopped. An eerie quiet descended on the house.
Kate clutched the headboard for a while longer before daring to swing her legs out of bed. For a moment, she thought the ground was still shaking, but then she realized that her knees were trembling.
Before she could reach the door, it was wrenched open. “Kate?” Her father stormed into the room.
“I’m fine, Father,” Kate said, trying not to show how shaken she was—literally. “Is everyone else all right?”
“Everyone’s fine. That was quite the temblor, wasn’t it?”
When he left to check on Obedience up in the attic, Kate quickly grabbed the dress she’d worn to the opera last night. Not bothering with the corset, she got dressed and rushed downstairs and out of the house. Not only would she be safer outside, where no furniture could topple over if aftershocks hit, but she also wanted to see if their street had survived without any harm.
Several of their neighbors were outside, checking the damage to their houses. Some had taken the time to get dressed while others had only slipped on their robes.
Kate’s father joined her as she wandered along California Street with the rest of the neighbors. Fortunately, their house had suffered little damage; just a bit of the cornice above one bay window had fallen.
Across Taylor Street, one of the chimneys of the Townes’ home had crashed down. A bit of the mane of a marble lion in front of the Huntington residence had been chipped off. Otherwise, the houses on their street seemed entirely intact.
Kate breathed a sigh of relief. San Francisco had been lucky. She shaded her eyes against the rising sun and looked south toward Market Street and the poorer parts of town. She could only hope that the boardinghouses along Sixth Street had fared as well.
Something unexpected caught her attention. Four columns of smoke rose above the tenements South of Market. “Father, look!” She clutched his sleeve. “Fire!”
Her father and several neighbors looked south.
“Everything down there is man-made ground, filled in with bricks, rotting timbers, and other debris,” her father said. “When you were born, that part of the city was bay. I bet the filled-in ground shook like jelly when the earthquake hit. A few lamps or stoves must have toppled over.”
A tight fist seemed to wrap around Kate’s heart. She had seen Giuliana’s run-down boardinghouse with its creaking stairs and thin walls. It wouldn’t survive an earthquake the strength her father was describing, and the dry wood would go up in flames within seconds.
“I need to go! Can I have the auto?”
“Now?” Her father looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. “Where on God’s green earth do you need to be now? Once your mother is dressed, we’ll drive around, take a look at the rest of the city, and maybe have breakfast at the St. Francis Hotel, but for now you should—”
She didn’t want to do any sightseeing or have breakfast at the St. Francis Hotel. She wanted to check on Giuliana. An anxiety like none ever before took hold of her. “No, Father. I can’t wait. Please!”
“No, Kate. Who knows what kind of condition the streets are in. I’m not letting you—”
Not waiting for him to finish his sentence, she ran down the hill as fast as her opera dress and the two petticoats allowed. He might be able to refuse her the use of the automobile, but he couldn’t stop her from going.
“Kate!” her father called after her. “Stop! Come back here this instant!”
“I’ll be right back,” she shouted over her shoulder but never slowed down or turned around. Her father, still in his pajamas and a robe, wouldn’t follow her, and by the time he was dressed, she’d be halfway to Sixth Street.
The farther south she came, the heavier the earthquake damage became. Not a chimney remained on any roof, and every window seemed shattered. Telegraph poles had broken like matches. The facade of a house had crashed into the street, revealing the broken furniture inside. It reminded Kate of the dollhouse her father had bought her when she’d been five.
Dazed men and women, many in their nightclothes, ran around the street, not knowing where to go. Most of them were completely silent, not even whispering to each other, as if they were afraid that any noise they made would trigger another earthquake.
“Head north,” Kate shouted over to them. “The earthquake wasn’t as bad up in the hills.”
There was no fog from the bay this morning, but a haze of dust from fallen buildings lay over the city. It seemed to become thicker with every step she took, making it impossible to see more than a few feet in front of her.
Heaps of debris filled the street, and Kate had to hike up her skirts to step over the rubble several times. Once, she had to jump across a three-foot-wide rift that had opened in the middle of a street. Water shot up from the gap, where a water main must have broken.
She hadn’t even reached Market Street when she encountered the first dead body. A man had been crushed beneath a fallen chimney. His lunch pail still lay next to him, not even a dent in the tin.
Wiping her eyes, Kate hurried past him. It was too late to help him, and she had to get to Giuliana.
When she crossed Market Street, she threw a quick glance left and right. The skyscrapers of the newspaper buildings seemed unharmed, as was the Palace Hotel, but the sidewa
lks were piled high with debris. A horse, still in its harness, lay dead on the cobblestones.
Kate jumped over a twisted pair of streetcar tracks and hurried down Sixth Street. This district seemed to have suffered the most damage. Many of the wooden buildings had collapsed; others now stood ten feet from where they had originally been, as if the earthquake had tossed the houses into the air.
Smoke billowed up farther down the street. A horse-drawn fire engine rattled along the cobblestones toward the closest column of smoke.
Kate dashed across Mission Street, which in places looked like a frozen wave, where the cobblestones had risen. Her lungs started to burn, but she kept running.
Finally, she caught sight of the four boardinghouses along the west side of Sixth Street. She slid to a stop and almost sank to her knees.
All that was left of Giuliana’s home was a large pile of debris. The earthquake had played a game of dominoes with the boardinghouses. The most northern building had collapsed onto the next one, which had in turn fallen onto the Ohio House. The weight of the three smaller buildings had hit Giuliana’s boardinghouse, knocking it halfway across the intersection. The roof of the five-story building was now only ten feet off the ground, the floors below completely crushed.
Policemen and a couple of neighbors dug through the debris, looking for survivors. Legs and arms were sticking out of the rubble in several places, not moving. Cries for help drifted up, but the tenants were trapped too far below.
Smoke curled up, and flames licked along a fallen beam that had once been part of the roof.
No! Oh no! Kate clambered up a pile of debris where she guessed Giuliana’s room might have once been, not caring that she was ripping her dress. “Giuliana!” She began to throw bricks and roof tiles down to the street.
All around her, the other helpers abandoned their rescue efforts one by one until Kate and two men were the only ones digging through the debris.
“Lady!” someone shouted up to her. “You’d better get down there! The fire will be here in a minute!”
She didn’t spare him a glance and only dug faster.
“Didn’t you hear me?” he called.
“My friend is down there! I have to get her out.”
“If she was in there, she’s dead already.”
“She’s not dead!” Kate used her anger to dislodge a piece of wood that might have once been a doorjamb. It slid down the pile of debris and crashed to the street, landing at the man’s feet.
He hopped back with a stream of curses. “Suit yourself,” he shouted before running down the street.
She’s not dead. She’s alive. She has to be alive. Kate continued to dig. The bricks beneath her hands started to grow warmer. Smoke drifted up, probably from a fire that had started on one of the crushed floors. Within seconds, the heat became almost unbearable.
The two men who’d been digging through the rubble a few yards away jumped down.
No. I’m not giving up. “Giuliana!” she shouted again. She ripped one of her petticoats and slung the fabric around her hands so she could continue to dig without burning her hands. With every brick and every piece of wood she freed, more smoke drifted up from fires that had started underneath. The acrid smell of burning paint pierced her nostrils, mixed with a nauseating, sweet odor.
It took her a moment to figure out what it was—the smell of burning human flesh.
Kate gagged but continued to dig. No time to throw up now. She grabbed another piece of splintered wood and pulled. After a second, she realized it wasn’t part of the roof or the walls. It was a baby’s cradle.
Oh, no, no, no. Please, don’t let the baby be in there!
Frantically, she pulled it free and peeked inside.
The baby’s eyes were closed, as if it were sleeping, but its tiny chest had been crushed beneath the weight of the bricks that had fallen onto the cradle.
Kate’s stomach heaved, and acid burned up her throat. Oh, Lord, no! She rubbed the baby’s little arms, even knowing that nothing she did would revive it.
A long, agonizing scream from below made her freeze. The fire had reached someone trapped on one of the lower floors. After a while the screaming stopped.
A shiver went down Kate’s spine. She knew what it meant. Even the people on the top floor, if anyone was still alive, were running out of time.
Gently, she slid the cradle down the pile of debris to the street below. Was this the baby that had kept crying next door to Giuliana’s room when she had visited her? If it was, then she was digging too far to the right.
She crawled a yard to the left and started to dig as if her very life depended on it, hastened along by the anguished cries of the trapped people far below. “Hold on, Giuliana! I’m coming!”
* * *
When Giuliana’s senses returned, everything around her was pitch-black. She was lying on her back on something very uncomfortable. For a moment, she just lay there, heart pounding furiously, afraid to attempt to move and find out she couldn’t because her spine had been broken.
She hurt all over, but it wasn’t a sharp pain, just little aches. Finally, she gathered her courage and moved her hands, then her arms. All her bones seemed intact.
Breathing a sigh of relief, she tried her legs.
Nothing.
Panic skittered along her spine and made the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.
It took her terrified brain a few seconds to figure out that her legs weren’t paralyzed; her feet were trapped beneath some debris. She tried to sit up so she could reach down and free herself, but wooden beams and pieces of plaster blocked her path just inches above her.
“Help!” she screamed as loudly as she could.
Her cry was echoed by other people farther down the pile of debris.
Diu miu, there had to be hundreds of people trapped—or crushed to death—beneath the rubble.
Then another shout came: “Fire!”
At the same moment, the sharp sting of smoke reached Giuliana’s nostrils.
Another wave of panic hit her. If she couldn’t free herself, she’d burn alive! Instantly, she strained against the weight that pinned her feet, struggling desperately to free her legs.
A crackling sound came from somewhere below.
Fire! It was coming closer.
With a mighty effort, her feet popped free. She banged her knee against something, and one of her shoes slipped off, but Giuliana paid it no attention. She crawled backward, away from the sounds of the approaching fire, and felt around in the darkness. She shoved against a beam overhead, trying to dislodge it.
It didn’t move an inch.
With trembling fingers, she searched for an opening overhead.
There!
Her right hand found a crack in the debris. A glimmer of light came from somewhere above.
Just that tiny bit of light sent a wild thrill of hope through her.
But the crack was too narrow to crawl through. Frantically, she worked to enlarge it, pulling away plaster and wood that blocked the passage.
Dust rained down on her, filling her mouth and her lungs. Twice, she had to pause because coughs shook her. As soon as she could breathe again, she continued to dig. Her arms felt like lead, and the cut in her palm burned, but she ignored it all and focused only on the thin beam of light from above.
A brick fell, nearly hitting her in the head.
Slow down, slow down! If she wasn’t careful, the whole pile of debris would collapse on top of her. More slowly, she continued to dig.
The people below her had fallen silent. No more screams, just the crackling of the fire. The narrow passage in which she was stuck began to heat up.
Don’t think! Dig! Just dig! She pulled another piece of wood free. The hole above her widened, and a wave of fresh air hit her dust-filled lungs. She realized that she could shove one fist outside, but the passage was still much too narrow for the rest of her body to squeeze through and the fire was nearly upon her.
&n
bsp; Just her luck. She might burn just inches away from safety.
* * *
The pile of debris started to shake beneath Kate’s hands and knees.
“We’re all going to die!” a woman who had been dragging a trunk along the street cried.
Kate clutched what had once been a window frame so she wouldn’t be tossed off. With gritted teeth, she prayed that the aftershock wouldn’t shake loose the precariously arranged joists sticking out of the rubble and make the whole thing collapse even more.
This time, the shaking lasted only seconds.
Slowly, Kate let go of the window frame and raised herself up on her knees to look around.
Smoke from the fire smoldering below mixed with the clouds of smoke wafting over from the burning Chinese laundry on Howard Street. Firefighters had cleared a path through the debris on the street so that the horses could pull the steam engine through. They had connected their hoses to a fire hydrant half a block away but didn’t direct their nozzles at the raging fire.
What were they doing? Why weren’t they putting out the fires?
The horse-drawn fire engine raced down the street toward her. The driver of the engine pulled the horses to a stop in front of another hydrant, and the crew jumped down.
“Here!” Kate cried and waved wildly even though that made her sway on top of the pile of rubble.
Maybe if they drenched the debris with water, she would have enough time to find and free Giuliana.
“Miss!” one of firefighters shouted. “What are you doing up there? Come down here!”
Kate hesitated. It was her only chance. No time to climb down in a more ladylike manner. She slid down the pile of debris on her behind.
“Stand back from that hose!” the fireman closest to her shouted.
Two of the men connected their hose to the hydrant. Another picked up a wrench and threw his weight into opening the valve. The others gripped the hose and turned the nozzle toward what had once been Giuliana’s boardinghouse.
Instead of the rush of water Kate had expected, only a few drops trickled out, then stopped.
“This one is broken too. Let’s go, lads!” one of the firemen shouted.