Air (or Have Not Have)

Mae's strength surged out of panic and anger, and Sunni was dragged to a corridor window.

'There,' said Mae.

Outside, the river was full and white. It filled the gully; it was pouring all around the bridge. It hauled itself over the top walls of Lower Street and down, a waterfall now. Under the steaming moon, they saw the entire valley. It glittered like a sea.

'My God,' whispered Sunni.

'See! See!' raged Mae. 'Who is the madwoman now!'

'It's terrible.'

'You are nearly dead! The hill outside this house is moving, whole and entire.'

There was a sharp breath; Sunni spun into the dark, wisps of white twirling after her, and went back to her husband. 'Wake up! Wake up!' Sunni shook Mr Haseem's bright-red face by the ears. She looked back at Mae.

'I know him when he is like this. He won't wake up,' she said.

'Leave him,' said Mae.

'Oh, you would say that – you hate him.'

Mae limped forward. 'I don't, Sunni, but it is too late for all but final things. Do you want to die with him?'

Sunni looked at her, blankly.

'It's come to that. If he doesn't wake up now, you either love him enough to die with him, or you go with me now. Now!'

'You hear her? You hear her?' Sunni shouted. She slapped Faysal hard on the face. He snorted.

'Wake up!' She slapped him again. He turned over. Sunni said to Mae, 'Okay, let's go.'

Mae turned and clattered down the steps.

'Don't hit your head on the beam,' Sunni said. Too late. Mae's eyes watered a second time.

Sunni grasped two tins of food as she soared through the kitchen.

Out into moonlight.

'Okay, we're together,' Sunni said. 'If one of us goes, the other tries to pull them free, but only for so long. We promise each other, ah. We save ourselves, but we try to help the first.'

'Right,' said Mae. 'But I'm going to Lower Street.'

'Madwoman!' said Sunni, again.

'I have to see if Siao has come back, if Mr Chung got out, if Sezen is okay!'

'Okay, but I'm not coming with you,' said Sunni.

'At last you are talking sense.'

'It will make a change, I admit,' said Sunni. The moving earth was unstable. Both of them fell into the mud. They thrashed their way to their feet, and held each other up.

'The flashlight!' said Sunni.

'I've got it, it's covered in mud.' Mae wiped it on her coat, and the light shone dimly again.

She pointed the light ahead.

On one side of the Dohs' house, the river had risen up. On the other, mud was mounting the back of the house like an unwanted lover. Mae and Sunni would have to cut down through the gap between the Dohs' and the Alis'. There was no other way down. Mud and water carried them down into Upper Street.

At some point the calling of the Muerain had fallen silent.

'Zeynap,' panted Sunni, thinking of her friend Zeynap Ali. They tumbled together onto the street. Mae shone the light. The doorway of the Alis' house was open.

'They're out,' said Mae.

From inside the house of the Dohs came yells and shouts. Mae cried, 'Dohs! I have a flashlight.' She ran. Inside the kitchen Young Miss Doh was flinging food into bags amid unwashed glasses and crumbs.

'Go upstairs, get my parents down!' Miss Doh raged – as if Mae were stupid, standing still.

Mae turned and ran up the stairs. In the upper corridor, Old Mrs Doh spun into the flashlight beam, waving her arms as if fighting cobwebs.

'This way!' said Mae.

'Who's that?' wailed Old Mrs Doh.

'Chung Mae.'

'What are you doing here?'

'Trying to help. These are the steps. Come on.'

Mrs Doh felt like a loose bunch of sticks in strong wind. She shook. 'What,' she said. Not even a question. Mae passed her to Sunni at the foot of the stairs.

'Here we are, dear,' said Sunni, as if it were a party.

Mae turned and ran through each of the rooms. She heard the river's roar. She heard a creaking, in the walls, in the wooden beams, and she felt the weight of the mud leaning against the house.

'This house is going to go!' she shouted to anyone who could hear her. She went from bedroom to bedroom. The good fairy of the flashlight blessed the walls of each room.

In the last of them, Old Mr Doh stood, sobbing. He was trying to button his shirt and could not.

Mae imitated Sunni. 'Oh, good Mr Doh. This is Mrs Chung. It's time to go.'

He flung off her hand, impatient, sobbing, still fighting his way into his best shirt.

'No, no,' she cooed, and laughed. 'You look wonderfully elegant. Come down now.'

'My wife,' he said, dazed.

'She's waiting.'

The whole house groaned and listed forward.

'Mae!' screamed Sunni, from the street outside.

Mae simply seized him and pulled.

'Oh, oh,' he said, fighting the dark. She hauled him towards the stairs. The walls suddenly snapped forward, leaning, dust puffing out where the floorboards joined them. Everything was looser underfoot. She pulled him down the stairs, he lost his footing, and they skidded together in the dark, slammed vengefully by gleeful wooden steps, until they both tumbled into the kitchen.

'Leave me!' he said. He started to fight Mae, the light careering over the walls. Someone entered, seized him, and pulled. Out they all went, clattering against chairs, slipping on oil spilled from bottles, as if all the contents of the house had been upended. In the street, the Dohs waited.

'I told you he was not outside,' raged Miss Doh, to the others. 'It took Chung Mae, as always.' Miss Doh pushed the old man, turned in the darkness, seized Mae, and pushed her tongue into Mae's mouth.

'In case one of us dies,' Miss Doh said, and darted back.

All the world was careering like the light; the stars themselves seemed to threaten to fall.

Over the sound of water Mae heard a grinding rumble. She turned and saw headlights trailing up the road. Against the lights she saw water gushing up against tyres.

Siao, she thought. That could be Siao.

'You go on,' Mae said to Sunni.

'Where are you going, fool?'

'Back home.'

'Okay.' Sunni was suddenly in front of her. 'Mae. You were right,' she said. Mae began to move. Sunni gripped her. 'You heard me say that, didn't you? You were right!'

'Sunni! Yes. I heard. Go!'

'You go! And come back quickly!'

Nothing else was said.

Mae ran past the backs of the houses of the Hos, the Matbahsuluks and the Kemals. She held on to the corner of Mr Kemal's house to wrench herself around into Lower Street.

A sound like applause. If you hear it above you, you are dead.

This is it, Mae; one check on the house, and then you go yourself.

Her old house glowed white, like a cake under the stars. In front of it rested one of Mr Pin's old vans, empty and dark. The courtyard door was open. Mae ran in.