“I’ll text when I get home,” I stated when she handed me back my phone.
I waited for her to go inside and shut the door behind her before I bounded down the stairs and crossed the residential street where my car was parked. Inside my car, I just sat, staring at the relatively small home, adorned with dark grey paneling, white painted wooden porch, complete with a swing on it. The house was no more than a stone’s throw away from neighbors on either side, leaving little room for a yard, like most of the houses and neighborhoods in this city. In a city with the population of more than four million people, space could be difficult to come by. There was something comforting about this home. Instinctively, I knew it was the woman who lived in it. Yes, she talked a lot, but that was fine with me. I enjoyed listening. I wasn’t much of a talker myself, not with most people anyway. I was always more about action than talking. Guess that was why my job fit me perfectly.
You’ll know when you know.My father’s words echoed in my head. He’d been talking about how he decided to marry my mother. I had half a mind to call him and have him describe what he felt because I’ll be damned if it wasn’t something similar to what I felt at that moment, as I sat and stared hard at Angela’s house.
For the first time in a long time, I was looking forward to something other than fighting fires.
****
“Well, look what the cat dragged in. Hey, Corey, I thought we said we were done letting strays just walk up in here!” I could hear Don’s boisterous voice all the way in the back where I sat cleaning my equipment.
“No shit!” Corey chimed in.
I wondered what the fuss was all about. Standing, I placed a fire extinguisher, hatchet, and other equipment back in the storage area where we kept them.
“They’re still letting you bums fight fires, huh?” The voice made me pause in my tracks. I was grateful and excited the owner of that voice was back. However, the last time we spoke?over six months ago?the conversation didn’t go well at all. In fact, we almost came to blows. I was never one to hide, so I again moved to go out to the garage where a few of the rookies were cleaning off the rig, while Corey and Don stood around, welcoming Carter back to the station.
“Harvard, bring your ass over here. Look who the hell just walked into Rescue Four,” Don laughed, clapping Carter on the back.
“Welcome back, man,” I greeted with my hand out. I waited for a heartbeat to gauge his reaction, but before I knew it, Carter had wrapped me up in a warm hug. It only lasted for half a second. We weren’t the touchy-feely type around here, but that brief embrace was enough.
“Feels fucking good to be back,” Carter replied, his blue eyes circling the station, savoring everything. He stood about an inch taller than me at six-foot-three, but the expression on his face gave away his boyish admiration for where we stood. “Not much has changed, I see.”
“You’ve only been gone six months. You know how slowly shit changes around here,” Corey spoke up. “But we were about to run some drills. Perfect time to see if you’ve still got it,” he challenged.
“You can’t lose what you were born with,” Carter replied.
“That’s the spirit. Let’s show these rookies how it’s done!” Don yelped.
That was my cue to start giving out orders. “Rookies, back the rig up and then grab your gear. We’re running drills.”
“Still the unofficial lieutenant, I see,” Carter said.
“Unofficial.”
“Don’t you think it’s about time you made it official?”
I looked at him but said nothing. I’ve been thinking about it. The lieutenant’s exam was months away, and I still hadn’t committed myself to taking it. Instead of answering, I went over to the wooden table sitting in front of the flat screen television on the wall and picked up the clipboard to begin filling out names for the drills we were about to run.
Carter pulled me aside. “Hey, Harvard, I want to speak to you later on when you’ve got some time.”
“Sure thing. After these drills.”
“Thanks.”
“Now, get your shit and put it on so we can show these rookies what real firefighters look like.” We both laughed and headed out to the back of the station house where the mock obstacle course was set up. About ten years ago, some of the older guys at Rescue Four set up this obstacle course complete with rope ladders, mock fire hydrants, and all types of other shit to train on during the downtime. It was the responsibility of the men at the station to maintain the equipment for future use. I went and retrieved my stopwatch. We spent the next forty-five minutes running drills, timing one another, and showing the rookies some things that weren’t taught in the academy.
Just as we were heading back inside, the siren in the station house went off, alerting us to an incoming call.
“Class B fire at Mike’s Auto Shop,” a voice came through the walkie-talkie I grabbed on instinct from the counter. A whirlwind of activity started around me as each man began grabbing their equipment and rushing to the rig. I threw on my gear the same way I’ve done hundreds of times, barely flinching at the nearly hundred pounds of equipment I was now carrying. Knowing the keys to the truck were in the rig, I ran to the driver’s side door, just as the garage door was raised. Closing the door behind me, I went to start the engine and… nothing.What the fuck?
“Where thefuckare the keys?” I bellowed.
Don echoed my question, and one of the rookies called back, holding the keys in his hand.
“Toss ’em!” I yelled. “You stay your ass here!” I pointed at the rookie. “Never fucking take the keys out of the rig. Carter, get your ass in here!” I yelled. I didn’t give the disappointed rookie a second glance. Seconds later, I saw Carter climbing in the back of the rig with all his equipment on. I wasted no time peeling off, as Corey to my right pulled the lever for the horn, alerting the entire neighborhood we were on the move. I was honking the horn on the steering wheel, still pissed at the rookie’s mistake. It was an unspoken rule. Weneverremoved the keys from the rig, unless it was during shift change. Looking for keys could cost us time—time that could be spent fighting fires or pulling someone out of the flames. It may seem minor, but in this job, even the little things mattered. I left the rookie at the station to ponder his fuck up, and let Carter come on this ride because, despite his absence in recent months, I trusted him with my life and the life of every man in this rig.
When we pulled up in front of the auto shop, I hopped out of the rig and quickly assessed the situation.
