Another bang emanated from below.
Gritting his teeth, Molson opened a window to get some air moving. He gave himself a small pep talk before descending the stairs. “Suck it up Colborne.”
A single lightbulb shed little light on the situation. In his mind, Molson remembered that there should have been three lights working down here. He stumbled down the last step, eyes watering, pulling the top of his shirt over his mouth.
It smelled strongly of gas.
“Ma?” Molson asked as he saw movement near the back of the cellar. He wove his way through the boxes, some of the stacks leaning precariously. “Ma? Where are you?”
“Don’t worry!” Margot shouted with wild eyes in her dirty face. “I’ll get us out of here.”
“Wait!” Molson lunged forward as she swung an axe through the air at the wall, hitting it off the bricks, chipping away the stone. She had a sizable hole in the wall already started. During her second swing, Molson was able to grab the axe, wrestling with her over it. “Ma let go!”
“We need to escape!” she shrieked at him. “There was a tornado and we’ve been buried alive.”
Curse the weather network. She’d seen some pictures of some other state being beat up by mother nature and now she thought the house had collapsed on top of her.
“I know how to get out,” Molson tried to bring his words down to a more calming level. Margot didn’t respond well to pressure. The gas was giving him a splitting headache. “The rescue guys are here. I can bring you to them.”
“Really?” Margot stopped fighting him over the axe, she panted as they both held onto the wooden handle.
“Yes. Here, hold onto the axe with me and I’ll lead you to the rescue guys,” Molson started to slowly back up around the boxes. He looked up, noticing that one of the lightbulbs had been shattered.
The lights were on. That meant electricity was still running to that socket.
Molson swallowed hard and gave a quick prayer not to die today. “Come on Ma. Just a few more steps.”
“I’m Margot,” she introduced herself. “Are you one of the firemen come to save me?”
“Sure,” Molson gave her a half-hearted smile. “Let’s go up the steps.”
“I didn’t know firemen were so cute,” Margot tittered and patted his hand. “Don’t tell my husband I said that, he’ll get jealous.”
“Your secret is safe with me,” he promised. Molson knew that when Margot retreated into her younger self she always referred to David Ramesly as her husband. It was annoying because he’d never seen one bit of evidence that his parents had ever been married.
Just another one of Margot’s many delusions.
They were almost up the stairs. Molson carefully took Margot’s hands off the axe and laid it on the counter before bringing her outside. “Let’s go look at the stars.”
“The stars!” Margot sighed in delight. “How did you know I like the stars?”
“Just a hunch,” Molson remembered her dragging them as kids to the city park many winter nights in search of stars. Jana had gotten frostbite once. He pulled his cellphone out of his pocket and dialed 911, grateful that they had made it out alive.
