“Mrs. Campbell,” says Ritchie. “It is good of you to assume the role of detective, but we do not, in fact, even know if the house was filled with men and women in equal numbers.”
“What I heard,” says Wirt, “is that the show was so popular, many of the men gave up their seats. They allowed the ladies to keep the box seats, and they went to the pit, never thinking—of course—that the pit would be far easier to escape in the event of a fire.”
“Mr. Wirt,” says Sally as calmly as she knows how, “I can assure you that, in box six, which is where I was seated, our party was equally divided between men and women. And not a single man volunteered to give up his seat.”
She has gotten Mr. Ritchie’s attention. “You were in the boxes? Last night?”
“Yes,” she says.
“Christ,” says Ritchie. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”
“You mistook me for just another busybody?”
“Not at all,” says Ritchie, although that’s obviously exactly what he thought.
“How ever did you manage to escape?” asks Wirt, who cannot contain his enthusiasm for a good story, no matter how much it might pain the speaker to retell it.
Sally chooses the most succinct version. “I jumped out of a third-floor window.”
Wirt lets out a low whistle, but she ignores him and addresses Mr. Ritchie instead. “Shall I tell you about the men who helped me escape?”
He doesn’t say anything.
“I’ll be brief.”
“Please.”
“There weren’t any.”
“Surely—”
“The reason there are so few men on the list is because they pushed past us—and in some cases, climbed over us—to get out.”
“I can’t believe—”
“Ask any of the women who survived, and they’ll tell you the same thing.”
“Mrs. Campbell,” says Ritchie. “These claims are serious and jeopardize the good standing of many decent men. Men who have also been through a harrowing ordeal.”
“I do not wish to topple any empires, only to see the record reflect my experiences and the experiences of women in my position.”
“How do you suggest I do that?”
“Interview us. I dare say a few of us can even write.”
CECILY
From the other side ofthe boathouse door, Cecily can hear her mother whisper, “It’s me.”
She scrambles out of her canoe, and drags another one out of the way of the door. After Moses caught her by surprise, she decided the safest thing to do was to turn the boats into a barricade.
As soon as Della is through the door, Cecily flings her arms around her. “I thought you’d never come.”
Della kisses the top of her head.
“Tell me what’s going on.”
“Child, I’m not sure I know where to begin,” says Della as she eyes the canoe near the door and motions for Cecily to help her turn it over. They take a seat on the hull.
