When I'm Gone (13 page)

Chapter 24-September 11, 2001; 9:01 a.m. (Claire)

I frowned at the canvas in front of me and used my finger to smudge a line. I picked up my piece of charcoal and started in on the streets below the towers. I was starting to shade them in when someone tapped me on the shoulder.
“Ms. Barnes?” Jennifer said with anxiety. I glanced over at her and smiled warmly. Her blonde hair was piled into a bun on the top of her head and she was wearing a charcoal smeared apron. She was wringing her hands in anticipation.
“Yes, Jennifer?” I replied, standing up. She led me to her desk area where her own charcoal drawing was resting on the top.
“I need your help,” she stated. She pointed to the top of the bird cage where it was blank. Then she gestured to a piece of paper beside her canvas. She had attempted at a lot of hands but it looked like she was having trouble. “I just can’t seem to get the hand right. I want a guy to be holding the cage but I am no good at hands.
Could you help me?”
“
Sure,” I told her and took her piece of charcoal. I flipped the paper over and drew a quick sketch of a hand. I pointed out the key parts to her before handing her the stick of charcoal. “Now, you try.”
She sat down and studied my hand once more. Then, she started drawing. Soon enough, a beautifully drawn hand was on her canvas and she leaned back, looking proud of herself
.
“See?” I laughed. “I told you that you could do it.”
“Thanks, Ms. Barnes,” she replied, her eyes lighting up. I patted her on the shoulder and walked over to one of the other tables where a boy was working on an acrylic painting. I silently watched over his shoulder as he painted a realistic piano on his canvas. Suddenly he turned around and noticed me. Blush crept up his neck and he glanced down at his shoes.
“Hey, Ms. Barnes,” he muttered.
“Jonathan,” I greeted him. I looked back at his painting and grabbed his paintbrush. I took a piece of paper and painted the keys of a piano on it. “The pattern is three, two, three,
two
.”
“Oh,” he murmured. “I knew something wasn’t right. Thanks, Ms. Barnes.”
“No problem,” I replied and smiled.
“Ms. Barnes,” Hope called out from behind me. I turned around and saw her waving me over. I walked towards her and my smile widened.
“What do you need Hope?” I wondered. She laughed and pointed to her colored pencil drawing. The beautiful dragon was coming to life by the minute.
“I need some help on the background.” She sat down on her stool and picked up her pencil. “I want to do a castle or something like that, but I can’t seem to get the turrets just right.”
“Okay,” I murmured. I took the pencil from her and leaned over the canvas. Within minutes, I had drawn a realistic-looking castle equipped with a moat, a drawbridge and even flags.
“Wow,” Hope whispered in awe. “Thanks so much.”
“No problem, Hope,” I said.
“Claire,” said a breathless voice. I looked around, wondering who called me by my first name. I
finally noticed Lauren who was standing in the doorway. Her hand was on her chest; her eyes were wide with fear. Her skin was a chalky pale, not her usually flawless pink.
“Lauren, what is it?” I asked, my voice carrying across the room easily.
“Turn on the television. Channel 9,” she breathed.
“Twin Towers.
Attacked.”
I turned away as one of my students pressed the power button on the television in my room. She changed channels quickly, stopping on channel nine. I knew the color had already drained from my cheeks, but when I saw the news report, my whole body went cold.
The camera man was pointing his video camera at the Twin Towers. One of them, the South Tower, was fine. But, the North Tower was up in flames. There was a large gaping hole in one side and smoke poured out of it, making the sky turn black.
“Oh my God,” I heard Jennifer whisper. There were a few murmurs here and there but for the most part it was completely silent as we watched the tower burn. I told the girl to turn the volume up and she complied quickly.
“...and we have just gotten word that it was a passenger plane that hit the North Tower,” the reporter was announcing. He stood off to the side, a controlled expression on his face. But I could see the fear in his eyes. “A group of men hijacked the plane and flew it into the tower, causing a loud explosion.”
Suddenly, you could hear a loud rumbling sound and another large passenger plane came into view.
“Dear, God, no,” I choked out. It hit the South Tower and the explosion was deafening. The reporter and
camara
man ducked as smoke flew in their direction. When they got situated again, you could hear the sirens wailing as fire fighters drove towards the destruction. People were running away from the towers, screaming and crying.
I felt a tear slip down my face and I choked back a sob wanting to escape from my throat. My gaze swept the room and I noticed
thet
a few girls were crying, along with some guys. Finally, my gaze landed on my drawing of the Twin Towers.
In my drawing, the towers looked fine and safe. Nothing was wrong with them and they stood tall and proud. I tore my eyes away from it and looked back at the television screen. On it, the towers looked anything but safe. Smoke billowed out from each tower, flames licked the sky.
The reporter was still talking but I tuned him out. I didn’t want to hear about it.
There had to already be tons of casualties. A passenger plane could hold a lot of people.
Poor, innocent people.
They had no idea what was going to happen to them. They just got on the plane, thinking they would be home by morning in time to see their families.
I shook the thoughts out of my head and looked back at the door way. Lauren was still there, a
hand
pressed to her mouth. Silent tears streamed down her cheeks and her shoulders shook. I caught her eye and motioned for her to come over to me. She did and I placed my hands around her and she sobbed.
“Claire, what’s going to happen?” she managed. I shrugged
.
“I don’t know. But I don’t think anything bad could happen. These are the Twin Towers. It would be impossible for something really bad to happen to them,” I explained. Lauren nodded at
my explanation and then pulled away from me.
She crossed her arms over her chest and started to walk away. Then she turned back around and forced a smile to me.
“Let’s hope for the best,” she said, before walking out of my room and down the hall. I stared after her and then tore my eyes away and watched the news. I pulled out a stool and sat down on it, my hands trembling. A lot of my students were already on their cell phones with their parents letting them know that they were okay.
“Mom?”
Jennifer yelled into the phone. “Where are you? Did you get out? Please call me when you get this.”
She noticed me watched her and she frowned, a tear slipping out of
ther
corner of her eye.
“She works at the North Tower,” she explained. I
nodded,
my eyes wide with shock. A lot of parents must have worked at the World Trade Center.
“I’m okay dad,” Hope said into her own phone. “I’m going to stay here at school until they find out that everything is okay. Tell mom that I love her. I love you too. Okay, bye.”
She hung up and slipped the phone into her back pocket. Alex enveloped her into a hug and held her as she cried. I caught his eye and he frowned.
“Ms. Barnes?” Someone tapped my shoulder and I spun around. A boy that went by the name Richard was wringing his hands. He stared into my face with scared eyes.
“Yes Richard?” I placed a hand on his shoulder
.
“My-my dad isn’t answering his phone. He works in the North Tower. I’m scared that he hasn’t made it out,” he stuttered. His voice broke at the end and I sighed.
“It will be okay, Richard. Call him again in about an hour. It might be hard to answer in all of the chaos happening there right now,” I soothed and tried to smile for him. He nodded
thoughfully
and walked off muttering to himself.
“I have just gotten word that two other planes are on their way to Washington D.C. Let’s all pray that something happens before they get there,” the reporter guy said into the camera. Smaller explosions were still going off in the towers; even
us
in the school could hear them on the television.
I immediately thought of my mom and I paled once again. I placed my head in my hands, whispering to myself.
“Please no. Please, God, no. It can’t be,” I whispered in anguish. Murmurs of hysteria were building around me and I tried to shut them out. I rocked in my stool and let the tears slip down my cheeks and onto my apron.
A nudge on my shoulder brought me back to reality and I looked up. Alex stood beside me and grimaced down at me. I wiped the water off my face and wrapped him into a hug. I looked around, surprised that a few of my students were already gone. Alex noticed my tension and he sighed.
“They left to go home. They said they needed to be with their parents,” he explained. I nodded, suddenly exhausted. I noticed that most of the teenagers were circled in a group, their heads bent towards each other. Most of the girls’ shoulders shuddered with sobs and the guys squeezed them
in tighter.
“Oh,” I sighed and let another tear roll down my face. I blinked and felt Alex stiffen beneath my arms. I took them away and looked up at him. Fright colored his eyes and he let out a short gasp of air.
“Alex?”
“
Michael,” he whispered. Just the name brought butterflies to my stomach. But this time, they left quickly and my stomach lurched. I blanched and stared at Alex in horror. I stood up and wrapped my arms around myself as if a black hole would open any moment. Worried, I paced the room while Alex watched me cautiously.
“Michael,” I repeated and ran to my desk, wanting my cell phone.

Chapter 25-September 11, 2001; 9:21 a.m. (Michael)

“Claire, we are about to be called in. I love you, baby. I will be back, safe and sound, by seven tonight. Don’t worry. I promise you that everything will be fine,” I said and flipped the phone closed. That was the third call in the past ten minutes. Andrew watched me warily and shook his head.
“Michael, it will be okay. That’s the third call in ten minutes. Calm down,” he warned and placed a hand on my shoulder. I stared down at my phone, flipping it in my hands. Finally, I stuck it back in my pocket and turned to Andrew. Behind him, I saw Seth try to call his girlfriend again. That was his fifth in the past ten minutes.
“
Yo
, Seth,” I called out. He glanced over at me, before putting his phone away. He shuffled over to us and tried to smile.
“Everything will be fine,” Andrew told him. Seth’s tight-lipped grin flickered and he sighed.
“I’m just worried,” he admitted.
“Aren’t we all,” Andrew replied, shooting me a look. I rolled my eyes and felt my hand twitch, wanting to pull out my phone. I forced myself to keep my hand on the table.
It had only been a few minutes after the second explosion and Chief Parsons was on the phone trying to get them to let us go down there. I sighed and fiddled with my leather bracelet, like I always did when I got nervous. I swept my gaze over the men in the kitchen. Most of them were on their phones with wives and a few were watching the
damge
unfold on a news cast on television.
“This is it guys.” Chief Parsons burst into the room. “Everybody get their stuff on. It’s time to go. They need all hands on deck.”
We all moved at once, running into the garage. We threw on our jackets, pants and shoes and were on the trucks in less than five minutes. We turned on the sirens and sped down the streets. Outside, the destruction looked worse than on a television screen. The sky was still black, thick with the smoke pouring from the buildings.
We passed by people screaming and cars speeding away. In the truck, there were frightened murmurs from the men. We stopped about a mile away from the foot of the buildings. There was too much debris to try a
manuever
around. We all climbed out, oxygen tanks in hand.
“Men, put on your helmets. People are going to get hurt,” Parsons yelled over all of the noise. We did as he said, noticing chunks of building raining down around us.
Down at the site, the screaming was increased and people poured out of the doors of the Twin Towers. Sirens blared all throughout the streets and other fire fighters were running around, trying to get people to safety.
Chief Parsons went to talk to the person holding a clipboard, asking where we had to go. I took the time to glance around. There was bits of the wall lying on the
streets ,
some of them still smoking from the impact of the planes.
I looked up to the buildings and watched as large black objects were falling from the top of the towers, where the fire was. I looked harder and noticed that the objects were flailing about as
they fell.
“Are those people?” Seth choked out beside me. I looked at him and then back up at the towers. He was right. Those ‘large black objects’ were people falling from the building. Or were they jumping?
My stomach lurched and I looked away. The rest of the men were staring, wide-eyed at the buildings. None of them were uttering a word and I didn’t dare to. Chief Parsons came back over to us and clapped his hands together.
“Okay, we are to go to the South Tower. There are people from the 78th floor and below that are evacuating right now. The people above floor seventy-eight are the people that we should be worried about. We need to get up there and start helping people get out.”
He glanced at every one of us-his eyes hardened when they landed on me-and held up his hands.
“Let’s go, guys. Let’s go out and save some lives,” he shouted and took off. We ran after him, sweating under the intense heat from the fires and smoke.
The oxygen tank on my back weighed me down and I struggled underneath it. But I took gigantic steps, wanting to get in and out of the towers as quickly as I could
.
“Oh my God,” I muttered.
As we neared, the sights were horrible.
Boodies
were strewn all over the streets; some of them brunt to a crisp and others that were bleeding to death. Some were even still alive and called out to us.
Asking for help.
It took all of the strength I had to ignore them and continue on.
Right beside the South Tower, I was struck at what had actually happened that day. I couldn’t count the number of bodies that were
laying
on the pavement around us. People were running around, still screaming in terror. Paramedics were carrying bodies on stretchers where an endless line of ambulances waited.
Who would do such a thing that would cause this much devastation? Why the heart and soul of New York City? Who would attempt such a mass murder on this Tuesday?
Emotions ran through my body like a huge gust of wind and I felt a tear slip down my cheek. I shook the thoughts from my mind and continued on. I suddenly tripped over a large object in the middle of the street.
I thought it was a piece of the building until I caught another glance. The sight froze me in my tracks. The thing I tripped over was a body burnt way beyond recognition. You could see the white bone
on
of the arms and I blanched at the sight.
“Herring,” Andrew tapped me on the back. I turned away, grateful for the distraction. “Right behind you,” I replied and started to walk away. I didn’t make it far before throwing up on the sidewalk.
I straightened myself, wiping my mouth on the sleeve of my coat. Andrew watched me with concern and gestured impatiently for me to hurry up. I complied and ran after him. As we were about to walk inside the building I heard screaming.
I looked over and saw the expression of horror on a woman’s face as she fell in front of me. As I turned away, I heard a sickening thud.
The thud of her body hitting the pavement.
I shook it off and followed Andrew into the lobby of the South Tower.
“You guys will have to use the stairs,” a guy explained. “There is only one elevator running and it is being used to transport victims down here. So, you can’t use it. Your station will be on floor 83. Good luck to you all. God bless you.”
I nodded at the man and ran after Andrew to the stair well. We walked inside and started up the steps. People were tripping down the steps, trying to evacuate. Faintly, I could feel the building trembling, but I paid no attention to it as we started up the steps.
Four.
Five.
Six.
Seven.
The floors passed by slowly and by the tenth floor, my breathing was labored. We passed by a man passed out on the eleventh floor, but ignored him just as the pedestrians were doing.
They were pushing by us, crying out for help. We pushed ourselves up the steps, one floor at a time.
Fifteen.
Sixteen.
Seventeen.
Eightteen
.
On the twentieth floor, a lady stopped me, pushing me to the side. I stared at her in astonishment. She pulled a man behind her and gestured at him.
“I’m scared about his heart,” she explained. Thoughts ran through my mind and I watched him glare at her.
“Now, leave me alone,” he wheezed. He was a little out of breath and he pounded his chest. “I am as healthy as a horse. Now, leave this young man alone and come on.”
He pulled her away as she screamed out for me. She tried to pull away from his grasp but stopped when
the
reached the next floor.
I was about to start up the steps when something-or I should say someone-knocked me to the ground. I stood up and brushed myself off.
All around me, hysteria was building up. I stuck out a hand and pulled the man up. I noticed that my helmet had fallen off and landed in the man’s hands. He was staring into my helmet where I had placed a picture of Claire. My throat closed up.
“That’s my love,” I choked out. The man nodded and handed me my helmet back. I stuffed it on my head and turned away. I blinked back the tears and started climbing the steps again.
“Help us!” A woman shouted out running past me down the stairs. I didn’t let my gaze stray from the stairs in front of me as everybody started screaming for help.
“Oh Claire,” I sighed under my breath. The name alone made my skin tingle and I tried to shake the feeling off.
I can’t think about that right now. I have to get up to the 83rd floor first and save people. Then, I can think about her.
I frowned and pushed myself forwards, up the steps. I caught up to Andrew and trotted behind him
.
“How many more floors left?” A guy called out.
“About forty,” Andrew replied. Everybody moaned and started pushing each other to move faster.
I started to count the floors again, letting that be the only thing my mind was focused on.
Forty-one.
Forty-two.
Forty-three.
Forty-four.