As far as first dates went, Maxwell was sure he could qualify for a national medal if England were ever to give such an honor for chivalry. In his hands, Max held two coveted tickets to a matinée performance of William Shakespeare’s Henry VIII at the prestigious Globe Theater. Shakespeare was the latest playwright in all of Elizabethan England to be hailed a genius. His clever plays, such as Romeo and Juliet, A Midsummer Night’s Dream, and The Tragedy of Julius Caesar, attracted throngs of people from all walks of life every day. These tickets were indeed a precious commodity that Max, the son of a destitute farmer, had sacrificed his weekly loaves of bread to purchase. And these were no ordinary “groundling” tickets either, the ones usually given to his class of people with which they could only stand for hours under the open-roofed area of the theater or sit uncomfortably on the hard floor. No sir, these were three pence tickets Max had literally starved himself for. But it was well worth his rumbling stomach and aching head because in just a few short hours, he would be taking the girl of his dreams, Nadine, across the Thames river to the show of a lifetime! Max smiled at the thought of his companion for the afternoon. In all of his eighteen years, he had never seen a girl more exquisite than Nadine, or Deenie as he lovingly called her. Her raven hair was like a silky night sky and her green eyes with flecks of gold in them were as fresh and lively as the fields he spent his days tilling. Her sweet smile and pink cheeks lifted his spirits and made them soar like a thousand birds. When she had said yes to accompanying him to the Globe, he had almost died from sheer joy. Max nervously checked his pocket watch, gathered up the daisies he had picked to give to Deenie, and set out on foot towards her cottage.

     Three hours, two horse drawn carriages, and one bumpy boat ride later, Max and Deenie were finally seated on tufted cushions in the third row of the illustrious Globe Theater. Deenie clutched Max’s hand with her own gloved hand and her eyes twinkled with excitement. “This is better than the best dream ever, Maxwell,” she said. “The kind you never want to wake up from! These seats are divine! We’ll be able to see all the action very well from here! Oh thank you for a most splendid first date!” Max smiled and marveled at the thirty foot tall wall structures of the theater and the impressive stage extending invitingly out into the audience. He looked upwards at the open ceiling in the center of the grand circular space. The late June sun beamed down on him and Deenie as if it belonged to only them and was wrapping them in its warmth.

     But the sharp pangs in Max’s stomach and the dull pain behind his eyes reminded him that he hadn’t eaten in almost three days so that he could afford the comfort he and Deenie now enjoyed. “Anything in the world for you, my darling,” he said, meaning every word of it. He was about to lean over and kiss Deenie, when suddenly a hush came over the crowd and the stage curtains parted. The much awaited show began. The actors on stage skillfully portrayed Buckingham and Norfolk, two nobles discussing King Henry’s doomed meeting with the king of France, and the audience soon became completely enthralled. For the duration of the scene, Deenie leaned her head on Max’s shoulder. Max imagined that she and he were nobles themselves, with season passes to this majestic theater to watch any and every play they wanted. So lost was he in his reveries, that Max almost didn’t hear the cannon explode. It was only when Deenie jumped and gasped that he realized what was happening. She let out a nervous giggle and whispered, “Silly me! That was a cannon announcing King Henry’s arrival, look.” Max turned his attention back to the stage. The actor playing King Henry entered stage right and said, “My life itself, and the best heart of it, thanks you for…” Suddenly he stopped speaking and his eyes widened in horror. “Good Lord!” he cried. “Fire! Fire!” Suddenly all eyes followed to where the terrified actor was pointing. Max looked up to see the thatch of the theater’s roof ignite and then burst into flames.  Within moments the fire spread and the wooden structures framing the theater were also engulfed in flames. Pandemonium erupted and crowds of screaming theater goers rushed towards the exits all at once like a swarm of bees. Max quickly grabbed Deenie’s hand and pulled her down the steps to ground level toward a doorway. “We must hurry!” he shouted. Deenie tripped and stumbled to the ground. A mob of frightened people rushed forward, about to trample her. “Max! Help! Help!” Deenie’s cries pierced Max’s heart and he lunged forward and covered her body with his. The thud of heavy footsteps thundering over them seemed to go on forever.

“We’ll never get out of here!” Deenie screamed. “We’re going to die!” She sobbed hopelessly.

“I won’t ever let anything happen to you Deenie, I promise,” Max told her.  Suddenly, with a determined burst of adrenaline, he shot up off the ground, gesturing to passing people to move to the side, and lifted Deenie off the ground. He covered her with his cloak and carried her in the direction the crowds were moving toward. The air was thick with black smoke and he could barely see a few feet in front of him. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Max spotted a group of men forming a human chain and helping women, children, and the elderly get outside to safety by passing limp but living bodies out of a window. “Please take her,” he commanded the men, choking as smoke clogged his lungs. “She needs a doctor! Hurry!” He handed Deenie’s frail, unconscious body to the men. As he watched Deenie’s form get smaller and smaller, and further and further away from him, Max’s fight-or -flight impulse died down and he felt overwhelmingly tired. Everything became quiet for a moment and his vision began to blur. His head pounded and he heard the blood whooshing in his ears. His days-long fast from food had weakened him considerably. He stumbled toward the exit but a burning beam crashed down in front of him, blocking his path. Max could feel his skin become extremely warm and his eyes sting. Flames danced all around him. I’m going to die, he thought. I never got the chance to tell her that I love her. Oh how I love her! Then everything went black.

An hour or so later, Maxwell’s eyes fluttered open. He felt something cool on his forehead but there was also a warmth…her warmth, surrounding him and breathing life into him. Am I dreaming? Have I died? Is this heaven? He glanced up and saw the sparkling emeralds that were Deenie’s eyes, pooling with relieved tears. She had torn a piece of cloth from the hem of her dress, dipped it in cold water, and was applying it to his burns. “You’re safe now, Max. I won’t ever let anything happen to you, I promise.” Only an hour ago he had uttered those same words to her. They had bonded over this surreal experience and come full circle. They were going to be alright. Some days later, Max learned that the Globe Theater had disintegrated completely within two hours of the prop cannon blast that had started the fire. Thankfully there were no casualties. Everyone had made it out alive. Max swore to himself that from that day forward he would never take a single moment of his life for granted. Although he didn’t know it in that moment, years later, he and Deenie would sit in the newly rebuilt Globe Theater with their two children and tell them all about the day this very same theater had spectacularly burst into flames.