Her Little Light

It began and ended on his wife’s birthday. He had been to the jeweller’s the day before to pick up the locket; the one she called ‘my little light’. It was a tiny heart-shaped locket she’d had kicking around the condo for years. The clasp had broken when she was in her early 20’s.

“Some day I want to get my little light repaired”, she’d say dreamily. “Don’t you think it would still look good on me?”

“I do”, he’d reply, smiling encouragingly. But the next day he would see that she’d placed it back in the box on her dresser with the single earrings and cracked rings. Each time he’d wonder if this time he ought to do something.

It was on their visit to Ireland for their 25th anniversary that he finally decided to get it repaired. They were in a jewellery shop on the Aran islands when he spotted a silver heart-shaped pendant.

“Look at that my love. It’s quite like your little light”.

She turned and stared at the pendant. A smile played on her face, but just as quickly her eyes grew sad. “It is”, she said. “But I don’t want to replace it. I want to wear it”. And with that, he made his choice.

He walked into the jewellery store and was greeted warmly by the woman, Corinne, whom he’d spoken to on the phone. He handed her his ticket and she motioned for him to sit. Two other women were standing behind counters cleaning rings and bracelets

“I’ll just be a minute”, Corrine said, and walked through a door in the corner of the store to his right. He could hear her footsteps retreating up a set of stairs.

The three women in the store had clearly been talking about the warm weather to come when he walked in. Summer in October? It made him anxious.

“I for one am looking forward to one more day of heat”, the older woman said.

The other woman, the youngest of the three, smiled. “In Calgary we called them chinooks. Hot winds on cold days”.

“Maybe we can kick off early and have a few glasses of wine on the roof”, the older woman laughed. Then the door in the corner opened, Corinne came to him with the locket and, after a quick payment, he had her little light.

The next morning when they awoke to the alarm he rolled over and kissed her.

“Happy Birthday my love”. They showered and dressed. And over breakfast talked of the day ahead.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going for dinner”?

“I am not. But I can tell you that it’s for 6:30, that it’s close enough that we can walk if we like, and that both Grant and Shelia will be there”.

She smiled. “I’m so glad the kids are coming”, she said, clearly moved. “That will make an event of it”.

By the time they were heading off at 8:30 it was 26 degrees and humid.

“What a day. It feels like our mornings in Singapore”, she said. They’d spent a year in Singapore while she completed her PhD. “How hot’s it supposed to get?”

“I heard them say 28. Feeling like 32”.

“Not quite like Singapore then”.

“Hey where am I dropping you? Bovey or Johnston Hall?”

“Bovey. I have to check in with my students in the lab”.

Twenty minutes later, on the way back home he checked the thermometer reading in the dash. It said 35. “Stupid thing”, he thought, “they can put a man on the moon.” But in truth he felt anxious again.

It was 9:05 when he parked underground and took the elevator upstairs. He unlocked the door, pocketed his keys and wandered towards his desk to start the computer. And then he stopped. Smiling, he turned and walked into the bedroom and found the tiny box from the jewellers.

He opened it slowly and peered at the locket. They had replaced the clasp, removed the rust and polished it inside and out. It was perfect.

He closed the box and put it in his pocket. On the way back to his computer he turned on the radio for some background music.

“...the high has now reached 37”, the newscaster said, “Here is meteorologist Kyla Ondawa with the latest”.

“Thank you David. Today’s predicted high of 28 degrees was reached before 9 AM this morning. Since then the thermometer has continued to climb. South of the border Chicago is reporting temperatures in the 40’s. Kansas City and Dallas are reporting 50 degrees or more. And people are dying by the thousands”.

He turned and stared at the radio. “Dying”?, he asked out loud.

“Kyla can you explain to our listeners what is going on? This seems unprecedented.”

“The short answer, David, is we simply do not know. Your use of the word unprecedented...”

His fear finally caught up with him. He didn’t wait to hear the rest. He was running out the door. On the way down in the elevator he texted his son “Grant. Can you make it to mum’s office right away?”

He sent the message and his phone rang. It was Sheila.

“Daddy! Daddy what’s going on?” She sounded scared. In that moment he knew that he was too. “People are dying in the States. The temperature keeps going up. I don’t understand”.

“I don’t know pumpkin. But let’s all get together. Can you make it to your mum’s office?”

“Which one?”

“Bovey”.

“Okay. Okay, I’m on my way. What about Grant?”

“I messaged him. I’m sure he’ll be there too”.

He hung up, got in the car and pushed start. He put the windows down, the radio on and drove up the ramp and out onto the street.

Leaving the underground garage the heat through the window was ferocious; feral. Stunned, he looked at the temperature reading on the dashboard as it jumped from 25 to 35. Then 40. Then 44. He rolled the windows up and turned on the AC.

As he drove up the hill towards the University he heard a notification. It was Grant. He was on his way. He looked up from his phone just in time to see traffic stopped in front of him. He slammed on his breaks and felt the seat belt press to his chest.

While he waited he texted Grant back “Sheila on her way too. She’s scared”.

“She’s wise to be scared. CUSoon”.

The pickup in front of him began to move and so he pressed on the gas.

And nothing happened.

It was as if the car was stuck. He revved the engine harder and the car came free. Came free? How could that be? As he moved forward vehicles ahead of him were moving around something. A bus had sunk. Into the tarmac. How could that be? He looked in the bus and saw people inside looking out. Young mothers, toddlers, seniors. They looked scared. “Wise to be scared” he thought.

He looked back at the temperature reading. 54. That just wasn’t possible.

He arrived at the Bovey building and parked. Sheila pulled up at the same time and immediately threw open her door. As she stepped into the heat her face contorted as though she couldn’t breathe. Reeling backwards she slammed the door shut again. The phone rang.

“It is literally too hot to breathe Daddy. What’s going on?”

“I don’t know sweetie”.

“What about mummy’s birthday?”

He smiled despite himself. Sheila loved her mum more than she loved anyone else in the world. “ I don’t know sweetie. But I’m going to come and get you and we are going to run to the building together. Bovey has AC. We’ll be okay in there.”

“Don’t hang up on me!”

“I won’t”, he said and rolled down one window. The heat was like a thing. Like an animal setting upon him. He rolled the window back up. “I’m coming out now to get you. When I get there take a deep breath before you leave the car. We’ll hold our breath until we get into the building”.

He placed his hand on the door, took a deep breath, and opened the car. It was like being hit with a hammer. He staggered out and to his daughter’s vehicle. She had already taken a breath and was opening her door. He reached for her and she looked at him in complete terror. He ignored her look, grabbed her arm, and pulled her towards the building. The heat beat at them as though it had a will.

They made it to the door. He grabbed the handle and screamed. Pulling his hand sharply away his flesh stuck to the metal. Sheila saw it and howled.

He fell to the ground in agony. He tried to inhale but the air burnt his throat. Sheila looked from him to the handle and back to his bleeding hand. Her terror somehow became resolve. She tore off her tank top, wrapped it around her hand and pulled open the door.

They struggled inside and gasped for air.

“I need water”, he said. “Something to...”

His wife appeared in front of them. “Anna” he managed to gurgle.

“Good God Scott”, she said, stunned. “Your hand”.

“Mummy”, Shelia cried as she threw her arms around her mother.

“Help me get your father to the eye wash station. It’s the closest source of water”.

The two women helped Scott to his feet and took him to the emergency eye wash station. Sheila bathed his hand while her mother got cream and bandages. When they were done Scott slumped to the ground.

“Mummy?”

“I do not know sweetie. I do not know. Where’s your brother?”

“I’m not sure. He and Daddy were texting”.

Anna picked up Scott’s phone, pushed his thumb on the home button and opened his texts. She froze.

“Oh God. His car died. He’s walking here”.

Sheila began to cry. Anna looked away from her and then down at her husband. “Oh Scott”.

But even as she spoke his name they heard a thump outside the building. Sheila and Anna ran to the door and saw Grant slumped on the ground. They threw the door open and dragged him inside. Anna slammed the door behind them.

“Grant. Son. Breathe.”

With a rattling inhale Grant began to breathe. They helped him to his feet and that was when they realised that he was burned. His shirt was blackened and in tatters. His skin. The two women stared at him in horror.

He raised his head and saw the looks on their faces.

“Things are starting to catch fire”, he said matter-of-factly. “like, spontaneously combusting”. He looked up and down the hall. “Where’s Dad?”

Together they walked to where Scott was sitting on the ground. He looked up. Seeing his family together before him he felt whole. They all sat down around him.

The two men took stock of each other’s burns.

“Oh my God Dad. What happened to your hand?”

“Never mind me. Look at you son”.

“Always looking out for the rest of us Dad”.

“That’s my job buddy”, Scott said without irony.

They sat in silence for a moment, becoming aware for the first time of the sounds of crying and howling from the upper floors.

“What do we do now?”, Sheila asked.

“I think”, Scott said, forcing a smile, “that in times like these, it is best to stick to tradition. Anna? Happy Birthday”, and he reached into his pocket and handed her the tiny box.

She opened it and her eyes went wide. And then they began to fill with tears. She looked at him in a way that she hadn’t in many years.

“My little light”, she murmured.

“Happy Birthday”.

The children looked from mother to father and smiled. Joy was in their hearts.

And then the flames took them and all the rest of their world.