Above the waves

19

I stay late, finishing new lessons that I missed from today.

"You're working too hard." Fila says with a light laugh.

She sits across from me still here at the lounge. Everyone else went home already, the other three packing for their trip tomorrow, not that I blame them since it is ten pm.

"Just a few more questions to answer and I'm done." I reply with an amused smile.

Fila swings on a swivel chair and hums. "Okay."

"Why aren't you going home yet?" I ask while still answering.

"I just live in a dorm. And I live alone. If I can do something productive or helpful outside, why would I lock myself in my room?" She asks.

I shrug and she laughs.

"I also think you're going to need help getting down. Even if you're stronger, it's late." She adds.

I smile. "Thanks Fila."

I finish the tasks after a few more minutes.

"Okay. Let's go." I say, closing the book with my left hand.

Fila puts the books in my bag along with my pencil case.

"Thank you." I say.

She waves it a way. "No problem."

She freezes and sniffs.

She looks around and walks towards the door.

"What's wrong?" I ask, worried with the sudden change in her.

She opens the door and peeks her head outside. I hear her sniffing and she gasps.

She closes the door and looks back at me with wide eyes.

"What? What's wrong?" I ask her, my worry rising.

"I smelled smoke. I think there's a fire." She whispers.

She hangs her bag on the other handle of my wheelchair and pushes me out. She heads to the elevators, with no choice. Stairs are the safest way in a fire or emergency but I can't go down them.

"Fila. Go ahead." I say calmly though my heart is beating fast.

The smell of smoke has reached my nose but I don't see or feel any fire. Yet.

She smiles nervously and shakes her head. "No way. You need all the help you can get."

"Exactly." I retort. "And if you can get down there or call nine one one or get help, it would be better."

We've reached the elevators and she takes a deep breath. Getting in the elevator can be such a big risk. With the fire not yet visible, it might have started from downstairs or two floors up. We're on the third floor.

"I don't know what to do." She whispers looking around.

Her hands are shaking and the smell of smoke gets stronger.

"Savannah-"

I cut her off. "Have faith. We'll get out of this. Pray."

She looks at me with an almost hopeless expression.

"Pray?"

I realize that she's also one who hasn't really built her life on God.

"Prayer is powerful." I reply with a sure smile.

She fidgets with her fingers. "I haven't prayed in so long."

"Maybe this is a way to bring you back." I whisper.