Little Millie Pedersen waddled along, chubby fingers intertwined with her older brother, Sammy's. Sammy was big and strong, already twelve years old, so she felt safe with him. She had her thick purple sweater to shield her against the September chill, and she was wearing brand new sneakers. Sammy had even stayed home from school for the day because he had a doctor's appointment later, so he got to take her on a walk. The day was great. She was invincible, all blond braids and cheerfulness as she walked with her big brother.
"What's that building for?" she asked, with a bit of a speech impediment, saying that like dat and for like fow. Her pudgy finger pointed to a building a little ways away, huge on the skyline.
"That's 30 Rock," said Sammy without much interest. "You know the TV shows I sometimes watch, SNL and Friends? The network they play on is there, NBC. Mom will probably take you sometime."
"Oh," she said, losing interest. They kept walking. Rounding the corner, they saw more skyline.
"Ooh! Look, Sammy!" Millie practically shouted. He ignored her, getting annoyed of all her questions and observations. He had never met a more talkative four-year-old, not that he really knew many four-year-olds. He loved his sister, and she was the spitting image of him, with wispy blond hair and pale gray eyes and a beaky nose, but she got on his nerves sometimes. He tried to keep walking, but she wouldn't budge. Finally, he asked her what he had to look at.
She was pointing her fat finger again, this time at one of the towers of the World Trade Center. She looked confused. "Why fire?"
Sam looked and stopped in his tracks. They were far from the scene, but he could faintly hear the sirens. He'd thought that maybe there had been a car crash or something. How wrong he had been.
Just that moment, the second plane hit. Others were stopping and looking, grabbing cell phones and rapidly dialing, crying or gazing, transfixed. There was an explosion, as pieces of the building seemed to collapse from some unseen weight, and fiery tendrils fought their way out. Sam was one of the gazers, too astonished for tears. "Oh, shit!"
***
December 15, 2005
"Mommy!" yelled Travis, pausing the TV.
"What, honey?" she called back, elbow deep in sudsy dish water, scrubbing up the dinner dishes.
"Get in here, quick!"
"What's wrong?" she asked, hustling with worry to the living room where her seven-year-old son was sprawled across the sofa.
He pointed to the TV, a rerun of an episode of Friends, paused on the city skyline. He looked confused, running to the window of their apartment. "I see those two buildings on TV. That's New York City! We live in New York City, but they aren't there. Why?"
She was caught off guard and gave him one of the saddest expressions he'd ever seen. But she contained herself, looking him up and down as she slowly exhaled. He looked just like his father, same black hair and dark eyes, taking after the Hispanic side of the family. He was a constant reminder. "Tommy," she said slowly. "I think it's time I tell you how your daddy died.
His eyes went wide, and he listened, never to be the same again.
***
September 11, 2001
Beth trembled as she watched the panic unfold. People were saying their last good-byes, via cell phones, and she wished for once that she hadn't scorned technology. What about Frank and the kids? She started crying as the plane impacted the North Tower.
***
September 11, 2001
"We're trapped!" came the screams from a few floors above. Jack had a decision to make. He heard and recognized voices, the voices of co-workers. Then came the pitiful scream that he recognized as Laurie's. Laurie, with her cheery face and weave, Laurie, who he was planning to ask out. His fear turned to anger. He didn't know what was happening, but he had to save his friends.
He ran up two flights of stairs, the torrid heat burning his face even more than he knew. And then there was the door.
"Help!" came more shouts.
Jack reached for the doorknob and yelped like a little girl. "I'm trying!" he screamed. "The doorknob is too hot! I'm gonna try to break it down!"
"Please, the fire's spreading!"
"What's my family gonna do? How will Anna support Tommy?"
"I'm gonna jump! Anything's better than this!"
"NO!" Jack yelled. "I'm trying! Don't give up."
He rammed into the door, almost as hot as the knob, but it didn't budge. He worked like a machine, mechanically ramming and ramming, anything to stop the pitiful cries. "I'm trying," he gasped. He rammed again and again and again and again. When the door came down, there was nobody left. He ran, sobbing histerically, and somehow managed to save himself. But all he could think about were the screams, so terrifying and pitiful that they haunted his dreams forevermore.
***
April 16, 2009
"Hurry up!" snapped Molly as she hustled through Duelles Airport, luggage rolling along behind her. She turned around and waited impatiently for her boyfriend to catch up to you. "You know security takes forever!"
"Why?" asked Trent irritably. "9-11 was over seven years ago. And besides, do I look like I'm from the fucking Middle-East?"
She glared at him. "Don't be racist. They're not all like that. Anybody could be a terrorist, and whether or not they're of Middle-Eastern descent."
"I'm so freaking sorry if I don't like getting punished for stuff that a bunch of freaking foreigners did. That's how my second cousin died, you know. He was a fireman."
Her face softened but she just said, "But it's no excuse to be a bigot."
***
"Now let's have a moment of silence for those who died in 9-11," said the voice from the loudspeaker. Even the rambunctious 11th grade boys grew solemn. It 's a day that no one can forget, no matter how much they want to.
