The cotton wood tree

        A whispery tendril of acrid smoke snaked through the air, tickling three-year-old Emma Jenkins’s nose as it went on its way.  Frowning as the unaccustomed irritant awakened her, Emma turned her head from side to side in a sleepy attempt to escape the offending order before finally giving in and opening her eyes.  “It smells stinky in here,” she thought crinkling her face in disgust.  Emma gazed around at her room, and peered into the darkness searching for the familiar yellow glow of her clown night-light but was unable to find it.  She reached around under the bed covers trying to find her doll.  When she finally located the bedraggled object, Emma pulled it close and held it securely against her chest seeking reassurance.  The familiar coziness of her room had somehow been changed while she slept, and the small space now felt foreign and a bit scary. 
          “What’s that?” she wondered as she became award of a muffled crackling and popping sound coming from the living room. “I’m gonna go see.”  Emma pushed aside the downy pink quilt, which covered her body and clambered out of bed.  She paused for a moment in the darkened room.  Her white washed bedroom set was all but hidden by billowing waves of smoke, and the cheery pink floral wallpaper could no longer be seen at all from Emma’s vantage point.  Suddenly uncertain of her surroundings it took Emma a moment to find her way across the carpeted floor.  After bumping into the large dollhouse in the center of the room, Emma reached the wall and flipped on the light switch with eager fingers, but the incoming smoke was so thick that it greedily swallowed the incandescent glow before it could reach her.
         “Uh Oh,” she thought, “I can’t see.”  Emma whimpered a little in the darkness.  Seeking solace the only way she could, she began sucking her thumb even though she had outgrown the habit several months before.
         “I want my momma.  Where’s my momma?” she fussed.  Not receiving a response, Emma opened her bedroom door, and was greeted by fresh burst of charred air.  She recoiled as the incoming smoke surrounded her, and plopped down on the floor in submissive confusion.           
         “Mommy, Mommy, Mommy. ” Emma sobbed in fear and frustration.  “Where are you?”  Not receiving an answer, she crawled over to the doorway, poked out her head and peered down the hall.
          “Oh what’s that?” She wondered as she gazed through her tears at an amber light, which could be seen flickering and twinkling from somewhere else within the house.
          “Ooh that’s pretty,” she thought.  “I’m gonna go see the pretty light.”  Quickly forgetting about the smoke, which was filling the front of the house, and her prior unhappiness, Emma jumped up and raced down the hall in her ruffled nightdress.  She stopped at the entrance to the living room and gazed in surprise at the cobalt tipped crimson flames, coming from somewhere behind the sofa.  Emma opened her eyes wide and dropped her doll in surprise as she watched the as the fire slowly climbed up the wall greedily seeking the ceiling.  Emma drew in a deep breath, “It’s a fire,” she thought in amazement.  “The living room’s on fire.” 
         “Mommy, Daddy,” she called.  “There’s a fire in the living room.”  She paused for a moment waiting for a response and was greatly disappointed when none was received.  “Mommy and Daddy are sleeping,” she consoled herself.  “I’d better not wake them up.  Daddy might get mad.” Emma coughed a bit trying to eliminate the chard air from her lungs and her eyes watered in sympathy. “I don’t like it in here,” she thought. “It’s dark and scary and it makes my throat hurt.  I’m gonna go outside and wait for Mommy and Daddy to wake up.”
         Emma turned decisively away from the living room and raced off in the opposite direction running through the dining room into the kitchen.  The smoke had not yet reached the back of the house, and the early morning sunshine trickled into the room allowing Emma to clearly make out the cheerful apricot walls, and creamy white cupboards.  Relieved at last to be free of the darkness, Emma let out a big breath as she dashed past the cozy breakfast nook and stopped at the back door.  She tugged at the knob for a moment until she finally realized that the lock needed to be unfastened before the door could be opened.  Emma pursed her lips concentrating deeply as she struggled with the dead bolt and fought with the doorknob.  Finally the handle turned freely in her small hands and the fresh June air rushed in to greet her. 
         “I did it,” she thought, as she jumped up and down triumphantly.  “I’m a big girl.”  Emma closed the door quietly just as her mother had taught her to do, and dashed out into the sunshine.  Just she reached the end of the porch, Emma was doubled over by a violent fit of coughing.  Tears streamed down her face as her lungs struggled to rid themselves of the tarry smoke. 
         “I want my mommy,” she moaned when she was finally able to draw a complete breath.  “Mommy where are you?” she called, but no one answered.  Emma turned around and looked back at the house hoping to see her mother’s face in the kitchen window, but instead was transfixed by the site of her home.  Black pillows of smoke were trickling out from underneath the edges of the roof, turning the air above the house a mournful gray color.  Emma could no longer see the kitchen through the window at the back of the house for charred air swirled around in the kitchen and hid the room from her view.  “I don’t wanna stay here,” she decided.  “It’s too scary.”
         Emma fled.  She ran across the damp lawn of the back yard and raced down the ally barely noticing the chilliness of the ground beneath her bare feet. She stopped just before she reached the street and stood on the incline at the end of the ally and looking out onto the road.  She once again popped her thumb into her mouth conflicted as to what she should do.  She knew that she wasn’t supposed to cross the street by herself.  Her mother had told her this many times.  “Mommy’ll spank me if I go in the street,” she thought.  “I don’t wanna a spanking.”  As Emma stood facing a seemingly insurmountable width of asphalt pondering what to do, the sudden screaming of a siren cut through the morning stillness startling her.  The noxious sound became more strident as it grew nearer and drove her into acting.  Emma dashed out into the street hoping to escape the sound and was halfway across the pavement when she heard her name being called.
          “Emma Jenkins what are you doing?  You know you’re not allowed to cross the road by yourself,” Mrs. Himple called from the doorway of a small white house.  Emma looked up and noticed the welcoming figure of her neighbor. 
         “I didn’t like the loud noise,” Emma explained tearfully.  “It’s scary.” 
         “Loud noise or not, you shouldn’t be in the street,” Mrs. Himple responded sternly, “Don’t move.  I’ll come and get you.”  Emma waited patiently as her neighbor walked briskly over to her side and firmly grasped her hand.
         “Come Emma, you can’t stay here.  It isn’t safe,” the woman chided as she walked Emma over to the sidewalk.  “Now then,” said Mrs. Himple looking down at Emma.  “What are you doing outside all by yourself?”
         “Mommy and Daddy wouldn’t come outside with me.  They’re still sleeping,” Emma explained.
         “Well you can’t stay out here alone.  I guess you’ll have to come with me until your mother wakes up,” said as she walked Emma up the sidewalk to her large front porch.  Emma followed Mrs. Himple past the cushion covered wooden swing, and up to the front door. “Come on in honey” the woman said invitingly.  “I was just about to give Mr. Himple and the children their morning pancakes.  You can have some too if you’d like.” 
         Reassured by the comforting presence of Mrs. Himple, Emma suddenly became aware of the rumbling in her tummy.  “I like pancakes.  My mommy makes me pancakes,” she said still sniffling a bit. 
         “All right then, you go ahead and wash your hands in over there at the kitchen sink and I’ll have Mr. Himple run by your mother’s house and let her know that you’re here so she doesn’t worry.” 
         Mrs. Himple moved a kitchen chair over to the sink and turned on the taps.  Warm water spurted from the faucet, and steam rose up into the air.  After adjusting the temperature to ensure that it wasn’t too warm, Mrs. Himple lifted Emma up on to the chair and gave her a bar of soap.  “How in the world did you manage to get so dirty?” she asked.
          “I don’t know,” Emma replied as she gazed down at her soot-darkened hands in surprise. 
         “Well be sure to use the soap and make sure that you do a good job.  You don’t want to have dirty hands when you eat your breakfast.” 
         “O.k.” Emma said as she splashed about in the water.  She rubbed her hands and lower arms with the soap until they were thoroughly coated with blackened lather.  Mr. Himple entered the kitchen.  Hearing his footsteps on the linoleum floor, Mrs. Himple looked up and asked, “Harvey could you go over the Jenkins and let them know that Emma’s here?”
         “What’s this?  Are you sending me out to run errands before I’ve even had breakfast?” he asked gruffly. 
         Emma peeped out at him from under her lashes.  She knew Mrs. Himple fairly well as she had played at her home many times while her mother visited but had had very little opportunity to get to know Mr. Himple for he generally worked during the day, and Emma and her mother had not encountered him very often.  Unaccustomed as she was to his curt manner, and still upset by the morning’s happenings Emma stood very still hoping to escape notice.  She listened intently to the conversation that was taking place between the couple.
         “Now, now Harvey, stop your fussing.  It won’t take but a minute,” Mrs. Himple chided.  “The Jenkins live nearby.  Couldn’t you just drop by there for a second and let Lilly know that Emma’s safe at our house so she won’t worry,” she requested.  “Tell her that I’ll drop Emma off at home after I take Billie and Annie to school.” 
         “All right, all right, I’ll do it if you promise to stop nagging,” said Mr. Himple with a smile.  “I’m going to have some coffee first though, if that’s all right with you.” 
         “Only if you promise to drink it quickly,” quipped Mrs. Himple over her shoulder as she took a carton of eggs out of the refrigerator and carried them over to the stove. 
         “Hey there kiddo,” Mr. Himple greeted Emma as he lifted the coffee pot off the counter and poured himself a cup of the fragrant brew.  “What have you been up to this morning? 
         Emma gazed down at her soap covered hands.  “There was a fire in the living room,” she said as she traced patterns in the soapsuds.  “Mommy and Daddy are sleeping.  I told them about the fire, but they didn’t want to wake up and see.”  Emma looked up at Mr. Himple.  “I was scared,” she told him as fresh tears trickled slowly down her cheeks.
         “Oh my,” exclaimed Mrs. Himple as she stood in front of the stove holding her hand over her mouth.  “I heard a siren just a few minutes ago.  It was right before I found her out in the middle of the street.”
         “Do you suppose she’s telling the truth?”
         “I don’t know Harvey, but I think you’d better get over there right away and see if everything’s all right.” 
         “I’ll be back just as soon as I can,” said Mr. Himple.  He set his cup of coffee abruptly down on the counter with a clatter and dashed out the back door.
         Emma looked up at Mrs. Himple in surprise.  She could tell by the alarm in the woman’s voice that something was wrong but wasn’t sure exactly what.  “Are you mad at me?” she asked, her eyes wide with concern.  “Am I a bad girl?”
         “No, Emma.  You’re not a bad girl.  You’re a very good girl.  You came and told us about the fire,” Mrs. Himple said as she went to Emma’s side and helped her rinse the soap off her hands.  She gently toweled off Emma’s arms and lifted her down from the chair.  “Don’t you worry Emma,” she said.  “Everything’s going to be all right,” Mrs. Himple said as she moved the chair back to the table.  Emma watched as the woman reached under the counter and pulled out a bright red booster seat and set it down on the chair.
         “Come and sit down Emma,” she said.  Emma climbed up on the seat as she had been instructed.
         “Stay right here. I’m just going to go and wake up Annie and Billy.  I’ll get your breakfast as soon as I get back,” said Mrs. Himple.
         “O.k.”  Emma sat at the table and toyed with vinyl place mat and her silverware while she waited.  It wasn’t very long before she heard voices coming from the back of the house.  Annie and Billie walked into the kitchen still wearing their pajamas.  They yawned sleepily as they sat down.  “Mom, what’s Emma Jenkins doing here?” asked Billie in surprise.  “How come she’s not eating at her own house?” 
         “Billie Himple you hush up.  Emma’s our guest.  She’s going to stay with us for a while this morning,” said Mrs. Himple while placing a steaming plate of food on the table in front of him.  “Now you kids hurry up and eat.  You’re going to be late for school,” she said as she served Annie and Emma.  Her hands shook slightly when she lowered their plates onto the table causing the silver ware to rattle in response.
         “Mommy, what’s wrong with your hands?” Annie asked.
          “Oh, I’m just a little cold that’s all,” Mrs. Himple, replied quickly.  She gently kissed the children on top of each of their heads and walked over to the kitchen window.  “Now that’s enough talking.  It’s time to eat,” she prompted once again as she stood looking out at the neighborhood. 
         Emma and the Himple children did as they were told and turned their attention to their breakfast.  Emma relaxed and momentarily forgot about the morning’s troubles.  She ate heartily enjoying Mrs. Himple’s expert cooking and chattered with the other children.  When her hunger was finally satisfied, Emma wiped her sticky hands on her napkin and swung her legs back and forth under the table while she waited for the Himple children to finish their meal. 
         “Is everyone finished?”
         “Yes,” the children replied. 
         “All right then.  Go wash your hands and get dressed for school,” said Mrs. Himple as she began clearing off the table.  “Emma, I found one of Annie’s old dresses for you.  It’s very pretty and I think it’ll fit.  I laid it out on Annie’s bed.”  Mrs. Himple then turned her attention to Annie.  “It’s your old blue Easter dress.  I also left a pair of your shoes with it.  I think they’ll fit Emma,” she explained.  Let me know if they don’t and I’ll try to find another pair.”  The children raced off down the hall with Emma following slightly behind. 
         “I don’t wanna wear your clothes.  I wanna wear my own dresses,” she complained to Annie’s back.  The older girl paused and turned to face Emma.
         “I’m sorry Emma,” Annie said as she placed her arm over the younger child’s shoulders.  “I know you want to wear your own dresses, but Mommy said that you can’t go home right now, and you don’t want to wear your nightie all day do you?” she asked.          “Why can’t I go home?” asked Emma.  She thrust out her lower lip and looked up at Annie sadly.  “I wanna go to my own house and see my Mommy”          
         “I don’t know why you can’t go home.  My Mommy didn’t tell me why.  She just said that you were going to have to stay here until Daddy gets back from your house,” Annie said as she knelt down and pushed the hair out of Emma’s eyes.  “Now don’t be sad anymore Emma.  My mommy is very nice and I promise you’ll have fun at our house.”  Feeling somewhat comforted, Emma allowed the older girl to take her hand and lead her down the hall. 
         Annie stopped at the entrance to the last room.  She opened the door and went inside.  Emma followed her into a sunny room, which was very similar to her own.  The walls were covered with flowered wallpaper in lavender, and starched white ruffled curtains hung at the windows.  Dolls and stuffed animals stood on shelves that circled the room’s perimeter, and a canopy bed covered with a lavender and white striped fabric stood in the center.  The furniture was white and a matching toy chest stood in the corner.  Emma noticed that two dresses were laid out neatly on the bed, just as Mrs. Himple had promised.  “It’s going to be ok Emma,” said Annie soothingly. 
         “You promise?”
         “I promise.” The familiarity of the room, and Annie’s presence comforted Emma and she allowed Annie to help her out of the dirty nightgown.
         “Look Emma, isn’t this a pretty dress?” Annie asked holding up a powder blue dress.  “I have a pretty bow that goes with it too.  You’re gonna look just like a princess in this dress.”
         “Ooh, that is a pretty dress,” Emma said in agreement.  “Do you really think I will look like a princess if I wear it?” she asked hopefully as she reached out her hand to touch the soft fabric. 
         “No Emma don’t,” Annie said as she moved the dress out of Emma’s reach.  Your hands are still sticky from the pancakes.  Come on.  I’ll help you wash them, then you can get dressed.” 
         “O.k.,” said Emma.
         Annie led Emma into the bathroom and helped her to get cleaned up. 
         “Boy are you dirty,” said Annie.  “You smell funny too.” 
         “There’s a fire in my living room,” Emma explained sadly. “It made me cough,” she said as she began to suck her thumb again. 
         “Really?  Are you telling the truth?  Was there really a fire in your house?” asked Annie while wiping the soot off of Emma’s cheek with a soft washcloth. 
         Emma looked up at Annie and nodded.  “My Mommy and Daddy were sleeping.  Stevie and Ritchie were sleeping too.  ”
         “Did the firemen go to your house and put out the fire?
         “I donno.  I didn’t see a fireman,” Emma replied.  “Do you think that the fireman will go to my house and wake up my mommy and daddy?” she asked hopefully.
         “Of course they will.  My teacher said that it’s their job to help people,” Annie replied as she fastened the buttons on the back of Emma’s dress and slid a pair of black patent leather maryjanes onto her feet.  “Do you want to play with some of my toys while I get dressed?” asked Annie as she walked over to the toy box and lifted the lid.  “Look I have a pretty tea set you might like, she said as she removed a small wooden carton and opened the lid revealing a miniature set of dishes. 
         “O.k.” Emma replied as she accepted the toy.  Annie lifted her own dress off of the bed and took it into the bathroom.  The sound of running water kept Emma company as she offered pretend tea to imaginary guests.  Before she knew it, Annie was back dressed and ready for school.
         The girls ran into the kitchen to get their hair brushed.  Emma was holding the blue ribbon that the older girl had given her.  “Mrs. Himple can you put my hair in a ponytail?” she asked holding up the hair ornament.  “Annie said that I will look like a princess if I wear this in my hair.”
         “You look like a little princess already, Emma.  But I’ll be happy to brush your hair into a pony tail.”  Mrs. Himple brushed the girls’ hair, first Emma’s fine blonde curls, then and Annie’s thick brown locks and sent them into the bathroom to admire their hairdos.  Emma was delighted to see that they had matching ponytails, tied with colorful ribbons.  “My hair looks just like yours,” Emma said happily to Annie. 
         “Yeah, we're twins,” Annie agreed. 
         “It’s time to go,” called Mrs. Himple from the kitchen.  “Annie get the keys off the kitchen counter and go unlock the car please.  I’ll be out in just a minute.”
         “Ok Mom,” Annie replied as she and her brother dashed through the house and ran out the kitchen door without a backwards glance.  Emma followed quietly behind and was surprised to see Mr. Himple sitting motionless on the porch swing. 

         “Mrs. Himple, Emma called back over her shoulder.  “Mr. Himple’s sitting on the steps.  Why’s he doing that?”  Emma asked.  She had expected Mr. Himple to be at work when they returned.  Her own father always left for work early in the morning on weekdays and was never at home when her older brothers went to school.  Emma assumed that Mr. Himple went to work early just as her father did.  “Hi Mr. Himple,” she said shyly. 
         “Hi Emma,” he said.  “Do you know where Mrs. Himple and the kids have gotten to??” 
         “She’s in the house and Annie and Billy are in the car,” Emma replied as she looked back at the kitchen door.  “Do you want me to get her for you?” 
         “No that’s all right Emma,” Mr. Himple said as he rumpled her hair.  “I’ll go find her myself.  Can you do me a favor and go out to the car and make sure that Annie and Billie behave themselves while they wait?” 
         “O.k.  I’ll make sure they be good,” Emma replied.  She dashed off down the sidewalk and ran over to the car and knocked on the back passenger window attracting Annie’s attention. 
         Annie opened the door.  “Hi Emma,” she said.  “Come on in.  You can sit next to me.” 
         “O.k.” Emma said as she clambered into the car next to Annie. 
         “Where’s Mommy,” asked Billie.  “When’s she gonna hurry up and get here.  If she doesn’t hurry up we’re gonna be late for school.” 
         Emma turned to Billy, “She’s talking to your daddy,” she said.  “Your daddy told me to come and wait for her in the car.”
         “Well I hope she hurries.  I don’t wanna sit in the car all day,” Billy complained.
         “Stop whining Billy,” Annie said.  “Mommy’ll be back soon.  She knows that we have to get to school soon.” 
         Emma laid her head back against the car’s bench seat, and curled up against Annie’s side while she waited for the Himples’ return.  She was tired.  It had been an exhausting morning.  She only half listened to Annie and Billy as they went over their spelling words in preparation for the morning’s test.  “I wish my mommy was here,” she thought.  “I wanna go home and play with my toys.” 
         Suddenly Annie sat up straight interrupting Emma’s musing.  “Mommy and Daddy are coming,” she said as she looked out the car window.  Emma sat up and looked out the window as well.  Sure enough, the Himples were walking slowly towards the car.  Mr. Himple had his arm around Mrs. Himple’s shoulders.
         “They look sad,” thought Emma.  “Why does they look so sad?” she wondered.  Emma watched as Mr. Himple pulled Mrs. Himple towards himself for a final hug.  He then bent down and opened the door.  Emma was surprised when he reached in and lifted her from the car.
         “You’re going to stay with me while Mrs. Himple takes the kids to school,” he told her as he walked back up the sidewalk and sat down on the porch swing and sat Emma down on his lap.  Emma was surprised but compliant.  She had developed a liking for Mr. Himple in the short time that she had spent with him during the morning.  Feeling somewhat comforted by his presence she leaned back against his chest and watched as Mrs. Himple started the car and drove away.  She popped her thumb into her mouth once again seeking comfort.  She wasn’t sure what was happening but she could tell that something was very wrong.  Mr. Himple cleared his throat.  Emma twirled her hair between her fingers as she waited for him to speak. 
         “Emma,” he said.  “You know that there was a fire in your house this morning don’t you?’
“Yes,” she replied.  “There was a fire in the living room and the house was dark.  It made me cough,” she said trembling a bit as she remembered.
         “Well Emma,” Mr. Himple said as he cleared his throat once again.  “It was a very bad fire.  Your brothers are going to be all right though.  They’re at the hospital right now.  Mr. Himple paused for a moment and looked directly into Emma’s eyes.  “Your mommy didn’t wake up when the fire started like you and Stevie and Ritchie did,” he said with a wavering voice.  Emma looked up at him in surprise as she waited for Mr. Himple to resume speaking.  She was shocked when she noticed that he was crying.  She gently reached up traced a tear with her finger as it rolled down his cheek.  His shoulders shook violently for a moment, and he swabbed his face once again with his handkerchief.  Emma waited patiently until he was able to continue.
         “Your mommy breathed in a lot of smoke while the firemen were looking for her, and it made her very sick.  The firemen couldn’t save her so she went to heaven to live with God.”
         “When is she going to come back?  I want her to come back so I can go home and play in my room with my toys, ” Emma asked in confusion.  “I want to see my mommy,” she insisted.  “I wanna go home.  I don’t like it here any more,” Emma shouted.  “I wanna go home.” 
         “I’m sorry baby,” Mr. Himple said sadly.  “Your mommy can’t come back,” Mr. Himple explained as he gently wiped her tears with his handkerchief.  “But she loves you very much and she’s watching you from heaven,” he said with a crack in his voice.
         “No, no, no,” Emma shouted as she pummeled Mr. Himple with her fists.  I don’t want my mommy to stay in heaven.  I want her to come home.  I want my mommy.”   
         “I’m sorry Emma,” Mr. Himple said as he pulled her close.  “I know you want your mommy and I wish I could get her for you.” He quickly dabbed at his eyes and cleared his throat once again.  “Your daddy was at work when the fire started.  He is going to go to the hospital and check on your brothers.  He said that your aunt Beatrice is going to come and get you.  She’s going to take care of you for a little while.”
         “No,” Emma shouted.  “I don’t wanna go to Auntie Beatrice’s house.  I wanna go home and see my mommy.”  Emma kicked and fought against Mr. Himple’s restraining arms until she was overcome with exhaustion.  Still sobbing, quietly, she finally fell asleep on his lap and dreamed that she was at home with her family.