police cars, two with sirens going, and one mammoth fire truck parked at an odd angle against the curb. Firemen are running a giant hose across the lawn, yelling in some unidentifiable code. The air smells like smoke, and Gracie starts coughing as soon as we are out of the car. The lawn is crowded with the tenants of the building who have made it out. A cluster of elderly men and women stare at the fire, looking dazed. Some are wearing bathrobes and slippers. One old woman with curlers in her hair is yelling at a policeman, shaking what looks like a bar of soap.
The fire has consumed the center of the white brick building and is moving slowly outward. We are twenty-five yards away from the building, but I can feel the ovenlike heat against my skin. The fire has a deep hum to it, punctuated by crackles that sound like the breaking of bones.
Gracie hurries ahead. She grabs the arm of a police officer. “Have you seen a man in a wheelchair?” she asks. He shakes his head.
“Do you see Weber?” I ask her.
“Oh God. Look.” She points upward.
At first I don’t see what she is pointing at, and then I do. It is the window to Uncle Ryan’s living room. The window is half open, and three huge yellow birds are sitting on the sill. Their beaks open and close, but we can’t hear their squawks above the fire and the sirens and the people shouting around us.
I take Gracie’s arm, or maybe she takes mine. I’m not sure. We stand still in the middle of the lawn. We keep our eyes on the fat, panicked birds.
“Why don’t they fly away?” I ask. “How can they just sit there? They’re going to be cooked.”
Gracie is gripping my arm so tightly, I have pins and needles in my shoulder. “They don’t want to leave Uncle Ryan,” she says. “They love him. I can’t watch this.”
“They’ll be fine,” I say.
“Stop saying that.” She lets go of my arm and turns away, her attention caught by something else. “Joel!”
I turn, too, and see Joel a few feet behind us. He is wearing his uniform, the huge flame-retardant jacket and hat, but he is the only fireman on the scene who’s not in motion. He is leaning against a parked car. “Have you seen our uncle Ryan?” Gracie asks. “Why are you just standing there? Are you hurt?”
“He’s drunk.” I suddenly want to cry. “Look at him, Gracie. He’s shit-faced.”
“Oh,” Gracie says. She sees it now, too. Joel’s face is red, his eyes bleary. “Oh!” Gracie says again, loudly, as if she is angry. “You should stop this, Joel—it’s ridiculous. Please tell us about Ryan. Do you know anything?”
Joel’s cheeks grow even redder. His pupils swim in bloodshot sockets. He looks as close to falling apart as I feel.
“Oh jeez,” Gracie says.
“You’re so huge,” Joel says. “The baby is in there . . . Jesus.” He shakes his head, which seems to sober him enough to speak semi-coherently. “I saw your dad by the trees.” He points to the side of the lawn that is lined with apple trees.
“Dad? You’re sure?”
We don’t wait for an answer. We both turn and run in the direction he points. Gracie holds her stomach as she runs. The air smells like a summer bonfire now. I can smell grass burning. My sense of smell is suddenly very acute, very strong. But the scene’s volume has dropped down, the frenzy I am running past and through is muffled, until I see my father. He is standing under one of the apple trees. He has one hand on a wheelchair. Uncle Ryan’s wheelchair. Uncle Ryan is sitting in the chair, unburned, unharmed, alive.
The volume comes back up, and I realize I have been holding my breath. I breathe.
Ryan is crying hysterically. “Their wings are clipped,” he says when he sees Gracie and me. “They can’t fly. Louis saved me but he wouldn’t save them. They can’t fly. What’s going to happen to us?”
“You girls are okay?” my father asks.
“Yes,” Gracie says. I nod.
We had both touched Dad as soon as we reached him, to make sure this was real. I put my hand against his shoulder for a second. Gracie hugged his free arm, an awkward gesture that made him revert to his businesslike behavior.
“Good.” He studies the building. “I think they got everyone out. That elevator was a death trap. I knew what must have