The Glass Inferno

CHAPTER 58

Harry Jernigan closed the ambulance door and stepped back, watching quietly while the white vehicle with the huge red crosses on its.

sides disappeared into the confusion of other emergency vans filling the street. Its red light started to flash and the wail of its siren filled the still night air. Then he walked back across the street to where Lisolette was standing with the three children.

They were bundled up in blankets while Lisolette looked lost in an oversized man’s overcoat.

“I think they’ll make it,” Jernigan assured her. “I talked to the driver and he said they’d had far worse tonight that were doing okay.”

“I pray to God that they’ll be all right,” Lisolette said softly.

She wrapped an arm around Martin who had started to cry.

“Well, let’s not stand around out here,” Jernigan said.

“Donaldson got hold of an emergency generator and there’s light and heat down in the lunchroom now. One of the firemen told me the Red Cross has set up a field kitchen down there for the men. We might talk them into giving us a cup of coffee. Want to try?”

Lisolette couldn’t help smiling. “I guess I’m brave enough for that.” She shepherded the two smallest children in front of her while Jernigan took Linda’s hand and they started across the plaza.

The lunchroom was surprisingly quiet; half a dozen firemen gulping mugs of steaming coffee and a few tenants huddled in the corner. “You sit here,” Jernigan said, pointing to a table by the wall. “I’ll get us some coffee and cocoa for the kids.” He hurried off. Lisolette found a handkerchief and blew Martin’s nose.

“I didn’t cry,” Chris said proudly. “Only babies cry.”

He looked at Martin accusingly.

“Martin is younger than you, Chris,” Lisolette said.

“But you are a brave boy and I’m very proud of you.”

“Boys,” Linda said, disgusted. “All they can talk about is how brave they are. Both of them cried. I saw them.”

“I did not!” Chris protested, paradoxically near tears.

“You were all very brave,” Lisolette said in a tone of voice that settled the matter.

Jernigan returned with the top of a paper box holding two cups of coffee and three cups of cocoa. He gave the children the cocoa and then offered Lisolette a cup of coffee. “You’ll have to take it black; they’re out of cream and sugar.”

He sipped at his coffee for a minute in silence, then said: “I suppose we should consider getting the children to bed. I can get someone to drive you to a hotel. Or maybe you’ve got relations in town or friends. Want me to try them?”

“Harry.” She hesitated. “I have no relations in town and I guess I’m not the type to make many friends. I have no one close to me, I haven’t had for years.” She looked up at him. “Please don’t feel sorry for me; that’s not why I said that.”

He shrugged. “I know that. Frankly, if you could stand a mob of kids and in-laws, I’d be delighted to put you up at my place. I’ve told Mamie so much about you that she’s been dying to meet you anyway.”

“Why, thank you, Harry,” Lisolette said, smug with genuine pleasure.

“I know we really should do something about the children but . .

.”

She hesitated, then continued in a quieter voice: “I think I would like to stay here a little while longer, at least until everyone is down from the Promenade Room.” She glanced over at the chairs with the three children in them, all of whom had gone to sleep in the middle of drinking their cocoa. “There’s no real hurry.”

Jernigan suddenly remembered. “You were dining Up there tonight with Mr. Claiborne, weren’t you?”

She nodded. “I’ve looked all over down here for him and I haven’t seen him. I asked Mr. Garfunkel and he thinks that Harlee may still be up there-or possibly on the elevator.” She shook her head sadly.

“He’s such a fine man; I just hope he’s all right.”

“The fire is pretty bad up there,” Jernigan said slowly.

“It’s just one floor beneath the Promenade Room and they’re having trouble getting to it.”

“They’ll find a way,” Lisolette said firmly. “They will; I know they will.”

“Miss Mueller.” Jernigan toyed with his cup, hating himself,for what he was going to say and knowing that if he didn’t say it, the day might come when he would hate himself even more. “Mr. Claiborne had credit difficulties with the management here. Rosie did some investigating-all right, call it snooping-and Harlee might be a nice guy but he’s not, you know, on the up and up.”

“He’s what they call a con man,” Lisolette said quietly.

“I’ve known that for almost two weeks now. I know it and it hasn’t made that much difference to me.” She laughed quietly. “I suppose that makes me a foolish old woman.”

Jernigan suddenly reached out and took her hand. “I don’t think it does Miss Mueller. I think all it means is that you like him a lot.”

“Thank you,” Lisolette said, squeezing his hand very tightly.

“Thank you so very, very much.”