sheridan school’s main building was shaped like a “u.” beginning as a three story brick building it had grown, rather like topsy. wings had been added as the school grew. the original building which had been the old seminary for young ladies was now only one long side of the “u.” mimi knew it as prep hall. the back end of the original first floor was the dining hall. the one story kitchen had been tagged on later.
she knew, too, that the whole ell of prep hall was so old it was a regular fire trap. since this was the last year for preparatory students there had already been talk of tearing this old ell down. plans for remodeling had been submitted to dr. barnes. as soon as the swimming pool was finished, modernizing prep hall was the next thing on the building program.
for one terrifying moment mimi stood transfixed, holding tight to the colonial railing of the roof. she strained forward. the smoke was rolling now. she did not want to broadcast a false alarm. she must be sure. when she first glimpsed the smoke she thought the cooks might be starting breakfast fires in the old coal ranges. any doubt she might have had, fled now. a blaze leaped skyward and mimi acted.
as a complete picture of his past life runs through the mind of a drowning person, so in that frantic moment of hesitation a complete plan of what she must do electrified mimi into action.
without grabbing her terry cloth robe or without awakening the girls on the roof whom she knew were safe for the time being, she leaped through the window. two things she must do and every second’s delay could mean the loss of life and property.
first she must reach the office!
through the window, out the door of tumble inn, patter, patter down the hall to the first stairs. so far so good. she knew every inch of the way. taking two steps at a time she reached the landing safely. but here she stumbled.
overstepping the first step of the next flight, she fell bumpety-bumpety-bump all the way to the bottom, like the garbage cans in green cap week. when she was smaller she had got spankings for playing on the stairs and bumping from top to bottom very much like her present sitting down manner.
the instant she touched the first floor, she fled to the office. no time to count bruises now.
as she feared, the office was locked. there was only one thing to do and mimi did it. she had to get to the telephone. she could not waste time fumbling in the semi-darkness for a hatchet or club. doubling up her first as hard as she could, she swung with all her might and main and smashed the glass window. the sound of shattering glass should have awakened every sleeper but it only echoed dully through the deserted first floor.
disregarding her smarting and stinging hand she clutched the telephone.
she did not know the number of the fire department!
she knew the fire drill formation perfectly. she could have gone out of the building from the study hall or from tumble inn blindfolded. she had enjoyed the fire drills all year. they broke into the dreary routine. knowing how important they were, she had heeded and learned, every instruction; but here was something the instructor had overlooked—the fire station telephone number.
mimi was only stumped for a second, however. she had had other and fuller instructions on what to do in case of fire. she dialed the operator, and, with great effort, kept her voice clear so there could be no misunderstanding.
“operator, operator,” mimi said. she must keep cool and say distinctly where the fire was, instead of merely yelling “fire, fire” as most people did when the operator answered.
“please report a fire. sheridan school. prep hall.”
“fire—sheridan school—prep hall—” the operator repeated tersely. the drowsiness left her voice on the first word.
“right,” mimi affirmed; then without waiting to hang up the receiver, she flung the telephone from her and was off on her second and more important task. any person, neighbor or someone out in the country, might see the blaze and turn in the fire alarm but she, mimi, was the only person awake and she was the one who must arouse the whole dormitory. she had known this before she left the roof. she had not wasted a step or a second. from the broken office window she ran as fast as she could and pounded loudly on mrs. cole’s door.
“mrs. cole! mrs. cole,” she called loudly. “fire! fire!”
the instant mrs. cole answered she was on her way again. with all speed, she must reach the basement—and set off the alarm bell!
the corridors were long and dark like some of the passages in mammoth cave. on she ran and then down, down, down the back flight of stairs to the basement. with a steady hand she threw the alarm switch.
not until after the fire was over did mimi understand the risk she ran. the janitor’s part of the basement where all the bells were was under the kitchen! but none of this now; she had still another task. she must rouse the girls. she knew how soundly some of them slept. she had seen betsy sprawl across the bed after a soccer game and sleep through noise which cissy would say was “loud enough to wake the dead.” no one must be left asleep now. no one!
as she came up the steps out of the basement she could smell smoke. soon the crackling and popping could be heard.
amid all the confusion which followed mimi coolly and systematically raced up one corridor and down the other, opening doors, shouting names, and making sure all beds were empty. she did not pass up a prep door.
lights were appearing. girls were clinging to each other crying. some grabbed armfuls of clothes as they fled; others carried dresser drawers, or weekend bags and were spilling things leaving a trail of lingerie and toiletries behind. once mimi stumbled in a pile of clothes which had been dropped. they tangled her feet but she shook them free. she must go on—and on!
all was chaos. not a single instruction which had been given during fire drills was carried out by the frightened girls. startled out of their sleep by the most dreaded cry of all—“fire, fire!”—they were panic stricken. to get out quickly was their only thought. some jumped. a few used the rickety old fire escapes but most of them followed blindly after the first two who had run for the stairs.
mimi had begun her room search on the third floor and was working down. by the time she had reached the third floor from the basement her heart had been pounding wildly but she did not check her speed. the smoke was thick as fog. it burned her eyes and gagged her.
“gretchen, are you out?”
she saw the empty bed.
“caroline, fire!”
mentally she checked off another empty bed.
she was tottering now but she was nearly through. two more rooms and she would run outside herself. could she make it?
crash! crack! screams! sirens!
unaware that she was the object of a frantic search by the firemen who had glimpsed her pajama-clad little figure racing wildly from room to room, she finished her task. but where was the door? a great gust of smoke enveloped her. she put her hands in front of her and felt along blindly, but her hands met solid walls.
“i am trapped,” she cried frantically. “help, help!”
her breathing was becoming more and more difficult. when panic hit her, she became tired all over. her legs wobbled. the arms which had flung open fifty doors and the hands which had turned on the alarm bell were useless now. they could not find an exit. her eyes were red and running and she had squinted them to keep out the smoke until she could not open them wide. she, who had never fainted in her life, felt consciousness slipping away.
there must be air at the floor. “i’ll lie down till i get some oxygen in my lungs. but suppose i can’t get up? i’d be trampled to death. oh—oh—please god—i must find a way out!”
as the great blackness bore down on her to crush her to the floor, it was rent by a stream of water. firemen were bringing their hose to play on this part of the building and a saving stream of water came in through the open door and sprayed mimi’s face.
there! there! a door—— right by it all the time and couldn’t find it. “i—can—get—out!”
wet pajamas clinging to her exhausted little body, the knuckles of her right hand bleeding, smoked and smeared almost past recognition, mimi staggered from the crumbling building.
somewhat revived by the hose bath—she had followed the hose stream to get out—the rush of outside air, fresh and free from smoke, cleared mimi’s mind.
the girls on the roof! how could she have forgotten them! she had turned to re-enter the toppling building when she was grabbed from behind.
“take it easy, kiddie.”
the fireman’s voice was kind and soothing but mimi pulled and jerked. feeling her resist and believing she was out of her head from fright, he lifted her in his arms. mimi kicked her legs and screamed. all eyes centered on the struggle. mrs. cole rushed over and hugged mimi, fireman and all! she was crying.
“i’m going back, i tell you!” mimi screamed, shoving mrs. cole away. “mrs. cole! betsy! madge! jill!—the girls on the roof!”
with difficulty she sputtered out the story of the roof garden party.
“they’re safe, every one of them—they jumped——” mrs. cole wasn’t a bit ashamed of the tears that were streaming down her pasty white face. “you—you mickey—m—mimi—you are the only one we could not find!”
“me?” she had to try hard to keep from laughing hysterically. “i knew about the fire first. i turned in the alarm!”
mimi cuddled against the fireman, and relaxed. she was tired, so tired. her support gave way with her. at a sudden crash, and cries from the rear of the building, the fireman dropped her like a hot potato. she was safe and he was needed elsewhere. mrs. cole took mimi’s arm and led her over to where the rest of the girls huddled in the graying dawn. many of them hugged mimi. sue and chloe cried, but betsy said:
“i knew you were all right but i couldn’t make them believe me. i tried to make sue be a hound and ferret you out by smell. she’s so keen on that mange cure she could have smelled it above smoke or——”
“betsy, please, i can’t k-k-kid now—i’m too——”
mimi herself was crying now.
silently the girls and resident faculty members stood on the front lawn and watched the flames gut the old wing of the building. their clothes, books, and their personal valuables were going up in flames and they were helpless. they were glad to escape with their lives. only mimi’s prompt, clear-headed action had made that possible. they did not know that yet, but when they did, they were deeply grateful. tall flames, mountains of smoke, smashing glass, trucks pumping, great streams of water battering the walls. a fearsome, awful spectacle.
now all heads turned the way the fireman had run who had held mimi. he was returning now at a run, shouting orders to the waiting ambulance unit. some one was hurt.
who could it be? the girls and townspeople who had gathered in great numbers asked each other. every one connected with sheridan was safe and accounted for, even the cooks and janitor.
the ambulance men were bringing some one on a stretcher. police fought back the crowd and cleared the way.
“get back, you idiots. make room! make room!” mimi could hardly keep from screaming. daddy had taught her long ago never to add to the crowd and confusion of an accident. to help, one must go away from it rather than toward it, if help had already arrived. it was selfish and cruel to rush in merely to find out what was going on, when a life was at stake.
mimi could not see the details and she did not move closer to find out. nor did she find out until the next morning that it was other than a fireman hurt.
breakfast, which consisted of fruit, cereal and milk served cafeteria style, because this morning sheridan had neither kitchen nor dining room, was in progress when madge edged up to mimi. the girls were standing in groups eating. it was hard to recognize them in their borrowed clothes. things the college girls let them have swallowed most of them.
“you didn’t believe me last night, did you?”
“no, and i don’t now. there couldn’t be such a thing as death bells.”
“that fireman who got hurt last night was twenty-nine years old. the morning dispatch says so!”
“but he’s not dead, only hurt.”
“no but he’s in the hospital and he may die!”
mimi wavered. no, she wouldn’t believe that, but no use to argue. let it go. she couldn’t change madge and she had rather not talk about death bells. the most horrible night of her life was over and she would rather forget.
