CHAPTER THIRTEEN I: THE MAN WHO HAD WORKED THE LIGHTS

A man in a brown cap approached Caleb near the back of the crowd.
He introduced himself as Owen Marsh and asked whether Walter Mercer was present.
Caleb pointed toward his father.
Owen stopped walking.
“I haven’t seen him since the day of the fire,” he said.
“Were you one of the children?”
“No.”
Owen removed his cap.
“I was the assistant who ran the lantern controls.”
Caleb felt his stomach tighten.
“Then you should talk to Nora.”
Owen followed him to the entrance, where Nora was speaking with Paul.
When Caleb introduced him, Paul recognized the name.
“You were listed on the old event crew,” he said.
Owen nodded.
“I was nineteen.”
Nora looked at his hands.
He kept rubbing the brim of his cap between his fingers.


“Do you remember the fire?” she asked.
“I remember every time somebody asks me about it.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Owen looked up.
“Yes.”
He said the lantern demonstration was supposed to use a series of low-powered lamps behind colored paper screens.
The screens were designed to resemble a winter night sky.
Owen’s job was to dim the house lights and bring the lanterns on in sequence.
He had tested the controls that morning and found one circuit unreliable.
“Did you report it?” Paul asked.
“I told the supervisor.”
“What did he say?”
“He told me the audience wouldn’t notice if one section stayed dark.”
Owen swallowed.
“I didn’t like that answer.”
Nora asked whether the defective circuit caused the fire.
“I don’t know,” he said.
“I was at the control desk when the smoke appeared.”


“Where was the desk?”
“Behind the demonstration room.”
“Could you see the children?”
“Not from there.”
Owen described hearing a sharp crack from somewhere above the screens.
The room lights flickered, and somebody shouted for the music to stop.
He switched off the lantern controls.
Then he saw smoke pushing beneath the curtain.
“I thought everybody was already outside,” he said.
“Why?”
“Because the event manager told me the craft room had been cleared.”
Nora felt a cold sensation beneath her ribs.
“Who was the manager?”
Owen named a man who had died years earlier.
Paul asked whether Owen could identify the faulty circuit from the building plans.
Owen shook his head.
“The controls were removed after the fire.”
“Then why are you here?” Nora asked.
Owen looked toward Walter.
“Because I heard that the children were trapped behind a locked door.”
“They were,” Nora said.
Owen pressed his cap against his chest.
“I should have checked the room myself.”
“You were nineteen,” Caleb replied.
“I was old enough to walk down a corridor.”
Nora understood the temptation to turn regret into certainty.
She had heard it from Walter, Beatrice, and Leonard.
“Did you know the door was locked?” she asked.
“No.”
“Did you hear the children calling?”
“Not until the music stopped.”
“What did you do then?”
Owen closed his eyes.
“I pulled the fire alarm.”
Paul looked at him sharply.
“Was the alarm working?”
“It rang.”
Owen opened his eyes.
“People started running toward the exits.”
Nora considered the sequence.
Ruth had been opening the service hatch while Owen was trying to alert the adults.
Different people had acted in different parts of the building, each without seeing the whole disaster.
“Would you tell the mayor?” she asked.
Owen looked toward the tent.
“I don’t want anybody to think I’m blaming someone else.”
“Then tell her exactly what you told us.”
Owen nodded slowly.
“I can do that.”
Paul walked with him toward the mayor’s aide.
Caleb watched them go.
“Every person we meet makes the story less simple,” he said.
Nora looked toward the old hall.
“It was never simple.”
“Do you think the crowd can handle that?”
“I think the children had to handle something worse.”