“The top floor … a boy and a girl …” She choked in the smoke-filled air, she had already seen that their ladders didn't go past the third floor.“… Let me go … please … please …” She fell against him, as he relayed the information to the two men, and they hurried back into the building for what seemed like hours … as Zoya watched, knowing that if they died, her life would finally be over. They were all she had left in the world, all she cared about, all she had to live for. But the firemen did not emerge again, and three more went in, with axes and anxious faces. There was a terrifying crashing sound, and an explosion of sparks and flames as part of the roof caved in, and Zoya almost fainted as she watched it. Her eyes were filled with terror, and suddenly she darted forward, determined to find them, or die with them. She slipped past the firemen too quickly as she ran into the hall, but then, in answer to her prayers, she saw the firemen rushing toward her through the thick smoke, two of them with bundles in their arms, and she heard a child crying through the roar of the flames. She saw that it was Nicholas waving his arms, and crying out to her, as the third fireman swept her into his own arms, like a child, and the three men rushed from the building with their precious burdens, just as the fire reached out to engulf them. They barely reached the street before the whole building sounded as though it were caving in. There was a wall of flames behind them as they ran, and Nicholas clung to her, coughing and crying her name, as she kissed his face over and over again and then she saw that Sasha was unconscious. She knelt on the sidewalk beside her child, moaning and calling her name, as the firemen worked desperately to save her, and then slowly, with a small cry, she stirred, and Zoya lay down beside her and cried as she stroked her curls and held her.
“My baby … my baby …” She felt it was her punishment for leaving them alone every night. All she could think of now was what it would have been like if she had come home and … it was almost beyond thinking. She sat huddled on the street, clutching her children, watching the building burn, as they cried and watched everything they owned go with it.
“All that matters is that you're alive,” she said it again and again, remembering the night her mother had died in the burning of Fontanka Palace.
The firemen stayed until dawn, on another blistering hot day in July, and they said it would be days before anyone could go in. They would have to find somewhere else to stay, and before even attempting to go back to look in the ashes for whatever remained of their belongings. She thought of the photographs of Clayton that would be lost … the small mementos she had kept … the photographs of her parents, her grandparents, the Tsar … she thought of the imperial egg she had kept in case she ever needed to sell it, but she couldn't worry about any of it now. All that mattered was that Nicholas and Sasha were safe. And then suddenly, with a sharp pang of grief, she remembered Sava. The dog she had brought from St. Petersburg so long ago had died in the fire.
“I couldn't get her to come out, Mama … she was hiding under the couch when the men came in,” Nicky sobbed. “I wanted to take her, Mama … but they wouldn't let me …”
“Shh … darling, don't cry …” Her long red hair had come loose from its knot as she fought the firemen to go in after her children, and it hung over her torn white dress with the blue flowers. There were streaks of ashes on her face, and Nicholas's nightshirt reeked of smoke. It was everywhere, but he had never smelled so sweet, or meant so much to her as he did then. “I love you so much … she was very old, Nicky … shh … baby, don't cry …” Sava had been almost fifteen, and she'd come so far with them, but the only thing Zoya could think of now was the children.
A neighbor took them in, and Zoya and both children slept on the floor of their living room, on blankets. No matter how often they bathed or she washed their hair, they still smelled of smoke, but each time she looked outside and saw the charred relic across the street, she knew how lucky they had been. The sight of it made her shudder.
She called the theater the next day, and told them she wouldn't be coming to work, and that night, she walked to the theater to pick up her last paycheck. She didn't care if they starved, she would never leave them alone again … ever.
The paycheck would be just enough to buy them some clothes and a little food, but they had nowhere to stay, nowhere to go, and with a look of total exhaustion, she went looking for Jimmy to say good-bye to him.
“You leavin’ us?” He looked sad to see her go, but he understood when she told him what had happened.
“I can't do this anymore. If anything had happened …” And it could happen again. It was sinful to leave them alone. She'd have to find something else, but he only nodded. He wasn't surprised, and he thought it was just as well.
