Save me. I feel the heat of fire on my skin, and tears sting my eyes. Somebody…
“Kirika!” Mireille’s voice startles me, her hands on my shoulders. I hear footsteps pounding up the stone steps and Uncle and Georges appear behind Mireille, whose face is lined with worry. Uncle bends over, grabbing his bad knee.
“What is it? What happened?” Georges kneels next to me. I realize I’m sitting on the steps, my legs twisted together.
“A fire.” I whimper, pulling myself into a protective ball.
“Well yes, it was up here too. Perhaps the smoke is too much for the young lady.” Georges looks over at Uncle.
“No. Another fire.” I choke out. “The white house... with the green roof.”
Georges shakes his head. “Young lady, there’s not a house on this property.”
“Just look out the window.” I point upward to the landing. “If you tiptoe you can see it.”
“I’m telling you, there’s no such-” Georges starts again, but stops as Mireille jumps up.
“Excuse me.” Mireille brushes past him and goes further up the steps, stopping to look out the window. My legs are too weak to allow me to get up, so I wait, watching her expression. She turns back and I see the disappointed look on her face.
“There’s nothing out there but a large garden with a statue of some children in the middle. I’m sorry, Kirika.” she says gently, and I turn away, knowing somehow that she is wrong.
“I want to go see. I have to see.” I try to get up, and Georges puts his arm under me, lifting me. I see him look at Uncle, who nods his head.
“I’m going to look around a little more up here.” Mireille calls out to us. I know what she’s looking for, and I feel a chill run down my back.
“We’ll see you in the garden then.” Uncle limps slowly down the steps behind us. I feel badly for him, I know he’s in great pain.
“I’m sorry.” I turn my head to see him, and he smiles at me.
“I will humour you this once, but you really need to go to the car and lay down.” His smile fades and I realize he’s just as worried about me as I am about him. We make our way outside and I do feel better away from the smoke, as if a dream-like fog has lifted from me.
The garden seems familiar, as we walk the circular path leading inwards to the statue. I let go of Georges and walk slowly on my own, looking around. I hear the clicking of Mireille’s boots and stop, waiting for her. She joins me and we walk together.
“I didn’t see it.” She says to me, and I exhale slowly, not sure if I’m relieved or disappointed.
“Didn’t see what?” Uncle asks. He and Georges are both looking at us, waiting for an answer.
“That white house. I looked out every window for it.” Mireille answers smoothly. I see Uncle’s face twist a little, as if he does not believe her, but Georges nods his head in agreement.
“It’s just a garden here.” Georges waves at the statue. The statue has three children, arms raised in play, with a ball on their fingertips. They look happy, yet I feel very sad looking at them.
“It says something on the bottom.” Mireille leans over, brushing her hair back to look.
“Can you make it out?” Uncle asks, adjusting his cane and leaning forward on it.
“For the little lost souls.” Mireille stands back up and shrugs. “That’s all it says.”
“No date or anything?” Uncle taps at it with his cane.
“Nothing.” Mireille sighs, and we stand in silence for a moment.
For the little lost souls… I feel a horrible sadness here.
“Hey Chief! We’re ready to pull out and lock up!” A large man in overalls makes his way towards us. He reeks of smoke, and I smell him long before he joins us.
“What you doing out here in the memorial garden?” he pulls the hat off his head, flinging sweat like a wet dog.
“Memorial garden? Empie, what do you know about this place?” Georges takes his own hat off his head, and fans himself. “This little girl says there was once a white house out back here. Know anything about it?”
“I don’t know nothing about a white house, but I do know they once had some orphans living out back here, and whatever they was living in, burnt to the ground with them in it.” He took his hat and pointed towards the statue. “So they razed it all and made this memorial garden. That’s what I heard about, anyway.”
“When did this happen?” I blurt out. I feel suddenly dizzy and I reach for Mireille.
“Lands, now you’re asking some tough ones.” he puts his hat back on, as if it will help him think. “I was a young one like yourself when I heard about it. Years ago, fifteen, maybe twenty even. I was living round here at the time, so I heard about it. Sad thing, it was. Makes you wonder about God, don’t it? To let them all die like that, every last one of them.”
All except one…

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