Something Worth Saving (19 page)

I wanted to run home and hold my kids, kiss their tiny hands and cheeks until they told me to piss off.

I wanted to take Aubrey in my arms, worship her, give her a ring, promise my love, and never let go. Sure, I wanted all that, but did I do that?

No. I went to the next call.

We had just started overhaul, a part of the job where we went through the house and checked for any remaining sources of heat that could spark up a new fire. We also tried to search for anything salvageable to prevent any further loss.

I wasn’t being very careful apparently, probably because this guy showed little respect for us being here in the first place, when I knocked over what appeared to be a sentimental trophy of his.

Logan smiled at me, smudges of black covering his face. “You do realize this guy plays baseball for the Seattle Mariners.”

“Yeah, well” — I walked past Logan, bumping his shoulder — “He can shove his bat up his ass for all I care.”

The baseball player, who was all but hovering over us, heard, and started threatening he was going to sue me and some shit about going to the fire marshal and chief for my remarks. I didn’t give a fuck.

For one, neither would my dad, and last time I checked, I was broke. I was sure that hadn’t changed. Suing me would do this joker no good.

Sure, I had overtime money saved, but that was for a house and a ring on a finger.

I felt a stab to my chest when I thought about proposing to her, something that I couldn’t get off my mind these last few days. It was a way to show her I was in this for good.

We salvaged what we could in that home and then left, intending to head back to the station and then get some food. We were all starving.

“Wow, I thought for sure Jace would be arrested today.” Denny stretched as we got off the truck.

“It wasn’t as bad as the time Jace almost threw that guy out the window when he wouldn’t go down the ladder with him.” Logan laughed.

“He had it coming.” I shrugged.

“You need to keep your anger in check, Jace.” Kasey started unloading the truck with the help of two other guys. “You’re gonna get hurt out there.”

Kasey tolerated nothing.

“Whatever.” And when I began to walk away, he stopped me.

He glared at me, offering me the big brother advice he assumed I needed. “Just . . . for Christ’s sake, control yourself,” he whispered to me. “It’s a dangerous job. When you get emotional, you make it worse.”

“Whatever,” I said gruffly, wanting to stop talking about my issues.

When you’re a firefighter, you have to be on your game. You’re the one guy evoking something extreme and living on the edge. You’re saving lives in a way that only you can. When everyone else runs out, you run in.

I knew that.

I knew a lot things I never paid any attention to.

I’ve tried to live my life on the values of a firefighter. And if necessary, I will fight to save people even if it takes my life, too. It’s the oath I took. What I didn’t agree with was assholes like this baseball player who took for granted what they had.

And then I felt like an asshole, because that was me, too, wasn’t it?

No sooner had we gotten back than another call came through.

“Engine 10, ladder 1 . . . motor vehicle accident, Alaskan Way . . . 200 block. Battalion 2, medic 16, aide response, rollover.”

We arrived at the pier, where a drunk driver had launched his car through a barrier and then upside down dangerously close to the edge.

“Holy shit,”

“What I want to know” — Logan climbed over the guard rail and started down the hill — “is how the hell this guy pulled this off.”

“Crazy bastard was probably drunk,” I said, following him.

“Hey, man, wanna go to a hockey game with Brooke and me next week?”

I shrugged. “Yeah, I’ll see if we can find a babysitter. Maybe Lauren can watch them.”

“She can’t,” Axe said, two steps ahead of us.

“Stop fucking around with Lauren. She’s more troubled than you,” I said as we approached the vehicle, assessing what we needed to do.

“At least I’m getting some.” Axe tipped his head and looked over the car. The kid trapped in it was laid against the steering, causing the horn to be stuck on. “That’s just about as annoying as hell.”

“I’m getting some,” Logan said. “I’m trying to knock my wife up.”

Axe and I looked at Logan with raised eyebrows. Logan shrugged and gave an amused chuckle. “I’m outnumbered. I need a boy in the house.”

“Okay, well you’re getting some.” Axe tipped his head at me. “Can’t say the same for slugger here.”

“What?” I was lost for all of two seconds. “Fuck, man . . . Aubrey told you?”

“Nope. Lauren did.” He laughed. “You guys really need to get your shit together.”

“What’s he talking about?” Logan was looking between the two of us for an answer.

“Nothing. He’s talking about nothing. We need to get the car stable.” I hit Denny in the chest lightly. “Go grab the airbags.”

Denny didn’t move, looking at me and then Logan.

“You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?”

“Nope.” His face was blank, like his knowledge of firefighting, apparently.

Axe shook his head and dropped down to his knees, inspecting the car. “I wonder what the fuck they’re teaching down at the academy these days, ’cause it sure as shit ain’t firefighting anymore.”

He had a point.

We stabilized the vehicle and disconnected the battery, and extricated the kid from the vehicle. It was now up to the EMTs to save his life.

And he’d probably survive. The guy was tossed beyond belief and reeked, having more than likely thrown up on himself and then crashed the car.

On the way back to the station, Logan grabbed his stomach. “I’m hungry. Do you think this will fit through the drive-through?”

It didn’t. We tried, and ended up having to explain to the captain why we’d brought Taco Bell’s menu with us back to the station.

“Here’s your wallet, Denny.” Mike tossed Denny’s wallet from the pool the other night at him. He caught it with a thud as it hit his chest. “Good one, boys. Now, about this sign. You gotta return that shit to Taco Bell. I don’t know . . . ” Our captain was laying into us when another call came through. It was turning out to be a busy night with little down time. It was what we lived for.

“Engine 10, Ladder 1, Battalion 2, Engine 34, Ladder 3, Battalion 4 . . . ” When they kept listing off the apparatuses to arrive, we knew this one was going to be a big call. “Vessel fire . . . pier 91.”

“We were literally just there,” Logan groaned, walking toward the truck, two tacos in hand.

Just as I was getting on the truck, Sean nailed me in the head with his SCBA.

“Oh, sorry, man,” Sean said, running past me toward the engine. “Didn’t see you there.”

I rubbed the side of my head. “You son of a bitch.” He saw me all right. I reached for the handle on the side of the truck, pulling myself inside. “Someday I’m going to toss that guy into a burning building without his fucking hose.” Sean and I had no real beef with each other, just that we didn’t like one another. Couldn’t explain it. I thought he was a pussy, and he thought I was a condescending asshole. Which was probably true.

“Forget about him.” Logan smiled, knowing what I needed to hear. “Ready?”

“Always.”

Once we were on the truck, Logan started laughing. “I can’t wait until Sean gets in his car tonight.”

“Why?”

He nudged Denny beside him. “Me and probie glued his doors shut.”

“Now I know why you’re my best friend.” I laughed, feeling better. “I was having some doubts.”

Laughter broke out among the guys as Mike, our captain, turned around. “Listen up, boys, there’s been a second alarm activated. Stay focused, and do what we do. No fucking around.”

When we hit Alaskan Way, the light of the day all but gone, we could see the smoke pushing up from the vessel. When we arrived at the pier, we knew things could go badly, but we didn’t exactly know how and to what extent.

Even our years of experience and our tight-knit bond hadn’t prepared us for what we were about to do.

Command to Ladder 1, we have reports of victims still trapped on the fourth floor.

10-4, we’re on three now.

Wednesday, November 28, 2012

Aubrey

A
NYTIME
I heard those sirens pass, my gut was constantly in knots, wondering if he would be coming home in the morning. It’s never-ending, too, because no matter what time of day it is and I hear sirens, it hurts to know that it could be the end.

“Aubrey.” Brooke was frantic. “You should turn on the television. I’m on my way over with Amelia.”

“Why?” Deep down, I knew why. I’d heard the sirens, and you could see the smoke coming from the pier and engulfing the city.

“There’s a fire at the pier. The scanner said ladder 1 was there.”

At times like this, it was hard to watch this sort of thing with the kids around. Were we watching footage of their father dying, or was he there, hurt, suffering, trapped? Every possibility went through my mind in moments like that, and I didn’t want them to see it.

Reaching for the remote, I turned on the television, where King 5 News and every other station was painting the same picture.

A fishing vessel had caught fire. Crew members were trapped in the galley, along with four firefighters. They hadn’t said from which firehouse yet, but we knew the boundary lines and which stations got called in. Our boys were there.

I also knew this was a tactic used by media. Firefighters had more than likely died, and they weren’t allowed to say.

It was around eight when Brooke came over as I put the kids to bed, and they hadn’t made any ground on the fire by then. Gracie kept getting up and asking for everything under the sun, and I did not want her seeing the television, so I did what I had to do.

No, I didn’t drug her.

I put on
Tangled
— a sure fix for anything with that girl. Brooke laid a sleeping Amelia in Gracie’s bed with her and returned to hold my hand on the couch.

“Have you heard from Jace yet?”

“No. Have you heard from Logan?”

“No.”

I wanted so badly to run down there and tell Jace everything I hadn’t said, should he listen to me. Hell, I didn’t care if he wouldn’t listen; I was still going to tell him.

Sometimes it takes a tragedy to make you realize there was so much you should have done differently.

My heart was in my throat, the anxiety building with every news report and the picture they painted of the situation at the pier.

Would he be home tonight?

Brooke and I said little. No words were needed. What was needed was us just being there together. I kept shaking — I couldn’t stop.

Neither could Brooke. “Let’s just hope for the best.”

I nodded. “I am.”

“Breaking news . . . ” A red ribbon flashed and the bottom of the screen, and the regularly scheduled program cut back to the news. “It’s been reported a firefighter has been killed.” My heart dropped directly in my stomach. “No word on the name of the firefighter from Station 10, as family has no yet been notified.” They had just cut to a clip of the fire, a fully engulfed fishing boat, when a portion of it collapsed in an explosion.

My phone rang. It was Lauren. I sent it to voicemail. I couldn’t take her drama right now. No way.

But when Wade’s name showed up, I answered.

“Hello?” My voice shook, barely audible.

Please don’t say he’s gone. Please don’t shatter my world. Please.

“Are you at home?” You could tell right away he was struggling to keep it together.

“Yes.” I gasped, covering my mouth, as tears surfaced again. My mind replayed everything I had just seen on the television, wondering if I had just watched the last few minutes of Jace’s life. “I’m at my apartment with Brooke.”

“I’ll be over in a minute.”

It was the longest ten minutes of my life.

When the red car arrived and Wade stepped inside my apartment with the chaplain, neither one of us knew what to think.

What it were both of us? Had we lost both of them?

“Hey.” His chin quivered, but he held on, as he knew two people were waiting. “I’m sorry.”

There are people out there whose lives will never be the same just because of one day, one hour, one minute, and one second when their lives were destroyed.