Title: Ashes to Ashes
Disclaimer: (According to Sunny in her lingo,) "Pardo," which here might mean, "MLynnBloom does not own anything that has to do with our dear friends, the Quagmires, or even the brilliant 20th century American poet, Ogden Nash, who's poems can be quite funny."
Summary: Here is the woeful account of the day that changed Isadora and Duncan Quagmire's lives forever.
Warning: To my surprise,I thought that having this story listed under the 'Angst/Tragedy' genre that you would have stopped there. In fact, you should have stopped long ago before you clicked under the 'Series of Unfortunate Events' column, but here you are reading this so I feel it is my duty to warn you yet again:
-This is a story about angst.
-This is a story about tragedy.
-This is a story about the most unfortunate event of the Quagmire's lives.
If you insist to read on, I cannot stop you, but please take out your handkerchief beforehand so you do not soak your keyboard with tears.
Some primal termite knocked on wood
And tasted it, and found it good!
And that is why your Cousin May
Fell through the parlor floor today.
Isadora giggled. 'The Termite' had to be one of her favorite poems despite how childlike it was. She turned the page.
Fleas
Adam,
Had'em
Isadora laughed again as she lay in bed. Ogden Nash had been one of her favorite poets since she was just a little girl. She had written a few of his poems in her notebook so she could read them whenever she wanted. She had even written an essay on Nash and how his poems ranged from comical cynicism to children's' poems. That essay earned her the best grade in her class, which had made her father so proud. It was he, in fact, who introduced her to Nash's poems and given her a book complete with the collection of his works. She read them every now and then, like this morning, but she missed how her father would read her one of Nash's poems before bedtime. He probably would read to her if she asked, but she had not. She was not a little girl anymore and she felt like she had to act her age now.
The morning light was pouring over her bed from the open window and a strong breeze came through her room. It was late morning and she knew mother would be upset if she didn't come down soon. Her mother always felt that starting the morning off early made the day worthwhile. Just one more poem, Isadora thought to herself as she smiled.
The sound of shattering glass came from downstairs and Isadora looked over her book. Her brothers must be up and she figured they had broken one of mother's dinnerware plates. Hopefully they would be able to play today if her parents didn't punish them too badly, but they never really had. She thought back to when she was little and how Duncan, Quigley, and herself had broken one of her mother's favorite glass picture frames while playing jump rope in the parlor. Duncan and herself tried to glue back together as Quigley collected all their money to buy mother another one. The frame they bought was quite plain against mother's old frame but she remembered how her parents smiled when they found out how hard they worked to fix her old one.
The shattering sound came again and Isadora sat up. What was going on? Surely they couldn't have broken something else, could they? Isadora sat in bed trying to read her poems but her curiously got to her and she set her book down and slid her feet into her slippers. She took her brush off her bureau and brushed her dark hair out of her eyes. She hummed quietly as she went for the door and that was when her heart stopped.
Curling wisps of smoke was creeping into her room, crawling up from under her door. She dropped her brush and just as she ran for the door, it burst open.
"Isadora!" Her mother gasped at her doorway. She was still in her nightgown and her face was flustered and panicked. The house was glowing red and black behind her as billows of smoke ascended to the ceiling.
"Mother, wh---?" Isadora asked frantically but her mother grabbed her arm to pull her out.
"Isadora, you must come with me. The house has caught on fire," Her mother said and although Isadora knew this from the moment she saw smoke sneaking into her room, it couldn't be true. No, it isn't, I must have fallen back asleep..., she thought but she knew she wasn't dreaming and the blow of reality hit her.
"Wait!" Isadora said. She tore away from her mother's grip and grabbed her black notebook on her desk. She couldn't leave her things! She felt her mother grabbed her again, more urgently and tighter, but she spotted the poem book her father gave her. She tried to break away again.
"No! Isadora!" Her mother shouted over the creaking of splintering wood. Her mother pulled her out of her room and Isadora did not fight back this time. It would have to be left to burn.
Isadora and her mother ran through the hallway as the house creaked again menacingly. She couldn't believe how much smoke and fire there was. Any minute the house could collapse on top of them and fear and panic wrapped around her chest like cords and tightened around her. She felt like she would suffocate in it if she let herself but she tried to keep her head straight, until they ran past Duncan's empty room.
"Duncan! Quigley! Mother, where are they? Father!" Isadora screamed, calling out for them as she realized that she was alone with her mother. Her mother whipped her around a corner in the hallway as a light bulb exploded inside of one of the lamps. The staircase stood before them, enveloped in a flickering fire.
"We must get downstairs to the library if the doors are blocked," Her mother yelled over the fire, holding Isadora closely. A pillar from the corridor tipped over the banister of the hallway and it fell towards the bottom floor with a deafening crash.
Isadora didn't think twice about why they must go down to the library. "Where's father? Quigley... Duncan!" She shouted again, hoping that if they heard her they would come.
"Your father went for Duncan and I came for you. Quigley is going to be all right... Don't be scared, dearest, I'm here with you," Her mother reassured but she was shaking badly as if she would break down sobbing if she did not have to be strong and calm for her daughter. Without another word, her mother grabbed Isadora's hand and they climbed down the spiraling staircase.
Isadora wanted to cry at the site of their house as they turned round and round down the stairway. The entire bottom floor of their house was ablaze, the kitchen, the dining room, her favorite chair... everything she had ever known was gone within the fire. She didn't know why she wasn't weeping until she saw her mother look back at her. Her mother's hand in hers kept the hysteria of it all inside of her.
She heard a shout from downstairs and Isadora stopped and looked over the stairs. "Duncan!" She called out as she leaned over the railing. Get down to him, get down the stairs with mother, don't stop... her mind yelled at her but she was stock-still. She had to see Duncan to assure herself that he was all right. She had heard him, hadn't she?
"Isador--!" She heard her mother shout but she did not see her again. The wood beneath her splintered beneath her feet and she fell sharply through the stair step with a cry.
Isadora fell upon her back as the world spun above her. The hole where she felt through was gaping horribly above her, mocking her, as the smoke from the burning stairway escaped through it. She felt the trickle of blood running down her legs.
Her forgotten notebook was somehow still in her arms but her mother's hand was gone. She burst out crying suddenly, weeping deliriously as she felt blindly around for anyone to hold her. Black fumes from the flaming walls around her swallowed her screams in her throat as she tried to breathe. The fire around her wasn't as bright as she remembered it to be... she was smothered in the heat and smoke. It was going to take her with the house.
Library. Get to the library, Her mother's voice rang in her mind faintly but she curled up with her notebook crying. Mother wasn't coming and there didn't seem like there was a way out of this fiery hell. All she saw were the engulfing flames and she was scared she going to die within it. Scalding ash started to fall as pieces of the ceiling fell. The roof was collapsing and the cords of fear around her heart pulled so tightly she felt the only way to escape them was to lie down and close her eyes.
Suddenly, the world was darker as she shut her eyes and it didn't seem so real anymore. The crashes and shattering became so loud that she did not hear it anymore. She dreamed of a hand pulling her up and dragging her out from under the staircase as it collapsed behind her with a sound like thunder. She dreamed she passed the broken windows and cracking archways and through a doorway of blinding light.
No longer was a gaping, splintered hole above her or the cinders around her. She kept stepping back away from the fire, trying to see straight but the light was too bright. Then it dawned on her. The sunlight... she was outside.
Someone was holding her, pressed against her side closely and she looked over to see Duncan. His face seemed emotionless but she could feel him shaking. His tears were black from the ash on his cheeks. He held her tight with his arm around her and they looked up together.
The thick smoke from their house was pouring out towards the sky. The dead black of the smoke was mingled with odd wisps of rich green. Circles of large birds flew like what seemed miles overhead and the piercing bells and sirens coming down the street became almost unbearable.
Isadora looked around. It was only she and Duncan. Where was Quigley watching from, and mother and father? Did they escape behind the house where she couldn't see them? Why were they keeping her waiting like this?
"Father, mother... Duncan, where's father? He was with you--- and Quigley! Mother said he was safe. Mother!" Isadora shouted, but no one emerged from behind the house or out of the blazing doorways. No answer came. If they were in trouble, they would scream for help! She thought. Isadora looked frantically around. "Where are they?!" She yelled furiously at Duncan as if he was in on the joke. Why were they tricking her like this?
Duncan spoke almost inaudibly, "I lost father by the guest room. Mother went looking for you. I never saw Quigley." He was shaking harder than ever.
Stop lying to me! Stop! Isadora wanted to shout. Still no one came out. She ran towards the house as she saw the frame of the doorway fall, but Duncan grabbed her. He wrapped his arms around her and she couldn't break out of his grip. She shrieked as she struggled in his locked arms, unable to escape.
"Let go of me, Duncan! Stop!!" Isadora screamed in his ear. She beat her fists against him but he wouldn't let her go. How could he be so heartless? Couldn't he see that she had to save them?
And then a haunting sound came from the house. It sounded of bending steel and snapping wood. It echoed in their minds and scarred itself in their ears so they would be able to hear that horrible noise for days and months thereafter from that moment. The sound never seemed to end until all in the world became quiet. Then, the roof trembled and caved in and the frame of their house fell with it, along with their life full of memories and stories.
Fire truck horns and bells blared even louder than the crash of their house and Isadora screamed as loud as her lungs would let her. The house crumbled to the ground as she went with it on her bloody knees and screamed and screamed as the tears drowned herself in her misery. She was howling like a dog, like an infant, like a little girl, but she didn't care. Quigley wouldn't be there to hold the other end of the jump rope. Her mother wouldn't be there to hold her hand to lead her out of her suffering. Her father wouldn't be there to quiet her and read her poems.
She felt Duncan come down with her and held her softer than before. He was weeping loudly and they sat in the road with Isadora's head on Duncan's shoulder rocking back and forth without their parents' comfort.
Nothing made much sense after that. A man with his eyes shadowed under his hat told the Quagmires to stay within sight as they fought the fire, or something like that, but they hadn't spoken. Why would they want to leave? Where else would they go?
Nothing seemed too important. They thought they remembered someone coming over to check their breathing and Isadora's cuts, but they couldn't recall very well.
Nothing they heard was anything they wanted to hear. It all passed in a blur and everything they heard was a dull buzz. Once that buzz passed over their ears weakly, announcing Mr. and Mrs. Quagmire's death, along with their son.
The day never seemed to end. It was as if the hours were repeating and overlapping each other. Duncan and Isadora sat where they were, staying within sight like the man ordered. They blinked the tears out silently now, too drained and miserable to do anything more. Isadora knew that the worst thing about it was knowing how wonderful her life had been just hours before. She didn't have any cares or worries and here she was... her life was gone.
Duncan looked up from the ground to their destroyed home. All that was left was mounds of debris and ash, glowing dimly in the weak fire. The mysterious group of people was gathering in a group talking solemnly amongst themselves as others continued to extinguish and examine the house.
"Isadora," Duncan said, his voice cracking. They would be coming over soon again, taking them away from their home and Duncan felt as if he should say something to her before they did.
"I'm s-sorry," Duncan said trembling as the tears rose up again, "I'm sorry I wouldn't let you go. And I'm sorry that I won't let you go again, even if you try. I'm sorry, but I won't."
He couldn't stop himself from bursting out into tears. Isadora hugged him back and cried with him. Within a day their lives had changed and it was hard to think back to think back to a much happier time. She tried to imagine Duncan when he was smiling... when they all were smiling as a family.
"I know. And I won't try to leave." Isadora said in a rough hush as she wiped away both of their tears. They were safe now for the time being, now that they had one another. And there for another moment that felt like hours, they would sit all alone, left parentless and incomplete outside the madness of the dying flames and smoke.