The fire burned for five more hours, finally coming under control around two in the morning. By that time, Ruth and I were both back at the house, sitting rigidly next to each other on the living room sofa, waiting for news. Hattie and Zeke were with us, Hattie wringing her hands as she sat on the ottoman. Zeke stood by the front windows, watching the dark street as though he hoped Henry might come strolling up to the house at any moment. I thought we all knew the truth by then. If Henry were alive, surely he would have gotten in touch with us.
Teddy Wright stopped by to tell us the firemen were finally inside the factory, searching for “anyone who might have been in there.” He stood nervously in the doorway between the foyer and the living room, his cap in his hands. “It looks like it started in the boiler room,” he said. “They think a spark from the boiler ignited some sawdust.”
“Damn.” Zeke shook his head. “Sawdust is like gasoline,” he said. “Touch it with a spark and it explodes.”
“I thought the boiler room was protected from the rest of the building,” I said.
“Looks like the windows were open and the fire spread,” Teddy said.
“We got a new igniter for the boiler today,” Zeke said to Teddy. “I was at the polio hospital so I didn’t get to install it. Hank might’ve tried to do it himself.”
“Oh dear God in heaven.” Ruth lowered her head to her hands and I rested my palm on her back. I was afraid of the images running through my own mind. I could only imagine what this was like for her.
“I’m going back over there,” Teddy said. “I just wanted to tell y’all the fire was out.”
“You let us know anything you find out, hear?” Zeke walked him to the door almost like it was his house and he was in charge, and I thought Ruth and I were happy to let him take on that role. We were too numb and frightened to do much more than sit on the sofa, our hands knotted in our laps.
* * *
At three, I insisted Ruth go to bed and Hattie return to her cottage. Zeke offered to stay with me, but I sent him to Adora’s … once I realized that his home, that lovely room at the factory, was now in ashes.
“Honor must be going out of her mind, not knowing,” I whispered as I walked him to the door.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said rather formally. He seemed uncomfortable to be acknowledging Henry and Honor’s relationship so openly. “I should go be with her.”
“Thanks for staying with us, Zeke,” I said.
He looked like he wanted to say something more, but gave his head a shake. “There’s still hope,” he said finally. “Until we know different, we got to hold on to that.”
* * *
I was sitting alone in the living room an hour later, nursing a cooled cup of tea, when Teddy returned. I let him into the foyer.
“Please sit down, ma’am,” he said quietly, and if I hadn’t already known the nature of his visit, I knew it then. I walked stiffly into the living room with him close on my heels and lowered myself again onto the sofa. I looked up at him. He’d taken off his hat once more and held it between his hands.
“They found him?” I asked.
He nodded. “They weren’t sure it was him at first,” he said. “He was in the boiler room and everything was…” He turned his hat around and around in his hands. He was so young. He wasn’t used to delivering this sort of news. “The fire burned real hot and long in there,” he said. “The firemen said it was like one of them crematoriums. There wasn’t too much left. Just…”
“Just what?” I prompted.
“Just mostly down to the bones,” he said.
“Oh my God.” I was horrified, glad Ruth wasn’t in the room to hear this. The only comfort I could take from the scenario he described was that the end had probably been fast.
“I shouldn’t of said that,” Teddy said quickly, his voice a bit frantic. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I shouldn’t of put it that way.”
“How do they know for sure it was Henry, then?” I asked, although really, who else could it have been?
“The um…” Teddy looked like he was searching for the right thing to say. “The remains was charred real good,” he said, “but the left hand? It only had the thumb and forefinger on it.”
For some reason, that crushed me. His words felt like a sledgehammer to my chest, and I began to sob, my head bowed nearly to my knees. I thought of how Henry and I had finally connected over the past couple of weeks. How he’d shared the real Henry with me. How he’d loved Honor for most of his life and treasured the son and daughter he could never acknowledge as his. He’d had a sad life and now this tragic end. I hugged myself as I sobbed, ignoring Teddy who stood wordlessly nearby, unsure what to say. The depth of my pain surprised me. The realness of it.
“And there was this,” Teddy said finally.
I looked up as he pulled something from his shirt pocket. He reached toward me. I held out my hand and he dropped the object into it. Henry’s wedding ring.
I clutched the ring in my fist. “Thank you,” I whispered.
He nodded. “I’ll let myself out,” he said.
I didn’t watch him go. Instead I stared at the ring in my hand. It was all that was left of my husband. “I’m so sorry, Henry,” I whispered to the air. “So, so sorry.”
I’d wanted to be free of this marriage, I thought. But I’d never wanted my freedom at such a cost.