Open Arms

Chapter Seven

With three days left until the couple should return home, they made their way down the street from the bakery, two bags filled with all the pastries they could afford. Spots of lipids soaked the bottoms of the paper bags, sagging a little under the weight of the food. Some had been made hours ago sitting in the cases to cool, while others were hurriedly made that instant, as there were no more left. Hannah took a scone from her bag and indulged on it, looking to her right and seeing Angus scarfing down a miniature doughnut. 

"So much for a healthy breakfast," Hannah said wiping her mouth on the back of her hand. 

"You're not complain', are ya'?" Some crumbs fell onto his coat and he brushed them off. Hannah shook her head, unable to talk around the scone. 

"Not at all, but if we want strong bones and six packs we're working our way backwards." Angus spit out more than a few crumbs, choking on his food. Hannah clapped him on the back a few times to calm him down, his coughing mixed with laughing. "Are you okay?"

He hit his chest with his fist, trying to cover his mouth from any more food particles falling out. Clearing his throat a few times, he got a hold of himself, and spoke, holding his doughnut away from him before taking another bite. "You're gonna pay for that," he said.

"Why? What was so funny?" Angus shook his head, unable to answer as a loud siren drowned out even his thoughts. Exchanging looks, the two carried their heavy bags, placing their uneaten pastries back inside and walked down the snowy sidewalk while the sirens continued to get louder. Some voices shouted over the commotion, most in French, yet none in English. Two patrol cars parked themselves beside a crowd of gawkers, all straining their necks to see over what happened behind the police tape. 

One of the buildings standing on the corner of the next block was on fire. Black smoke billowed out against the white sky, while flames of oranges and reds poured out of the windows like a dragon's tongue. Hoards of people came rushing out the front door, splitting into two groups as a couple of firemen ran the opposite direction, looking for any people who failed to get out. The building itself was old, some sort of a bank perhaps. Upper windows shattered as a bomb of fire exploded on the third floor. Glass rained on anyone below it, the crowds now struggling to get to the safe side of the police tape. 

A fireman ran out of the building carrying a petite woman in his arms, setting her down as soon as they reached the sidewalk. She stumbled to the street, coughing, streaks of black marking her skin. A few people came to her aid, helping her cross the empty street through the snow, letting her sit down on the curb, and giving her water. 

Another fireman retreated from the truck and entered the building with an axe, coming to the aid of the radio call he received. Jets of water attacked the fire from the hoses, two of them going at once. Another woman and a man were escorted out of the building, both well enough to stand on their own and run to safety. Another window shattered, more glass hitting the snow, glittering in the light. 

Angus took Hannah's hand and backed up on the sidewalk, putting a good distance between them and the fire. Hannah stumbled after him, unable to look away from the scene. Her feet were frozen to the ground, her heart frozen in her chest. "We ought to go a different way, alright? Hannah?" She didn't respond to him; she didn't hear him. "Hannah? You okay?"

Her frame was shaking. Her eyes were glued to the smoke imitating the pearly clouds in the sky, like an evil twin. Keeping her arms straight at her sides, she took a few steps backward, drowning out everything but the scene in front of her. 

"Hannah, come on, we'll go a different way, we don't have to stay to watch this. You alright?" Finally getting a second of eye contact from her, he embraced her from behind, gently pulling her away from the chaos.