by T. K. Chapin
Micah raised his hands. “We’re just trying to get to some supplies, Sir.”
“Yeah– he’s right. We don’t want any trouble, Sir. We need to keep moving.” I grabbed onto the cart and began walking past the disgruntled citizen.
“This is how my tax dollars is spent, huh?” He asked as he laughed sarcastically, shaking his head at us. “I’m filing a complaint with your station!” he said from behind us. He must have been looking at the back of our fleece pullovers as he continued, “Station 9… Who’s in charge over there?”
“Thomas Sherwood and Sean Hinley are our Captains and Paul Jensen’s the Chief,” I said over my shoulder to him.
“I’ll be calling them right away!” he shouted.
We all four managed to keep our cool and made it over to the meats. As we came up to the bunker with steaks and stopped, Kane said, “We risk our lives, yet people still find a reason to complain… What is with that?” He glanced back at the angry man as he now appeared to be arguing with a grocery store worker.
I turned to Kane. “Do you do this job because you want people to think you’re a hero?”
“No…” he replied softly. “But that kind of thing just isn’t right.”
“No, it’s not right,” I agreed. “But we don’t do this to impress people, Kane. You know that. We do this job because it’s our duty and we do it to protect the people of Spokane. We serve them, no matter how poorly we get treated.”
“Cole’s right, man,” Micah said with a nod. “We can’t let people like him get in our head.”
“We can’t let them undermine our reasons for doing this,” Greg added.
“I find honor in what we do and someone like that just bugs me.”
“I know it does,” I replied, putting a hand on his shoulder. “And thank you for not saying anything to him.” I turned back to the steaks. “What cut do we want boys?” I asked.
Suddenly dispatch came over all our radios for a fire at the Canyon Creek Apartments on South Westcliff. We all four began sprinting for the front doors. My heart began pounding as adrenaline coursed through every one of my veins. Weaving between the aisles and shopping carts, we made our way outside. Spotting a cart boy on the way through the parking lot, I stopped and told him about our cart in the back of the store. He thanked me and I headed over to the truck.
Micah jumped into the driver seat. He was the ladder company’s engineer and that meant the man behind the wheel. Greg sat up front with Micah; his role varied and depended much on what was needed on each call. Kane and I were the guys who did search and rescue, cut power and helped with ventilation cuts on the roof.
As Kane and I suited up in the back, Kane asked, “Did you see that chick in the bakery look concerned as we dashed out of there?”
I laughed. “No, didn’t catch that,” I said, pulling up my suspenders across the front of my chest.
“When we go back later I’m going to go talk to her. Bet I can get those digits,” he replied as he slid his Nomax head and neck protector over his eyes. “I’ll for sure get her number.”
“She could be married,” I replied.
“Nah, I saw her left hand when she was putting out donuts in the window earlier.”
I laughed. “Wait… what ever happened to that Heidi girl? I almost completely forgot about her.”
“He got bored of her,” Micah said over his shoulder to us. “He can’t seem to stay interested in one gal; you know that.”
“Shouldn’t you be keeping your eyes on the road?” Kane retorted.
“Really though, man, what happened?” I asked, looking over at Kane.
“Just didn’t work out,” Kane said as he shrugged.
We slowed down as we arrived at the scene. Glancing out my window, I could see the fire had already engulfed much of the apartment complex and I felt another surge of adrenaline. I was excited and yet terrified out of my mind of the unknown that lay before me. It was that way every time we got a call.
Glancing at the other fire truck on scene, I saw Thomas Sherwood, the shift captain of station 9 and my father-in-law. He was already on scene along with the other guys who rode over on the engine truck. They were already about done hooking up the hose to the hydrant as we came to a complete stop. Leaping from my seat, my feet barely hit the pavement before the captain reached me.
“We need a grab on the second floor,” he shouted. “There’s a four year old girl in apartment one-forty-two.” My heart felt like it skipped a beat as I looked up at the roaring flames. Saving lives wasn’t anything new for me, but I never could get used to it. Even after ten years of service, every time lives were at stake, it was difficult, especially when the lives of children were involved.
“Got it,” I replied as I grabbed my oxygen tank from the side of the truck and secured it onto my back. Grabbing my axe and Halligan bar, I turned as I pulled my mask over my face and put on my helmet. A hand on my shoulder stopped me from heading directly to the building.
“And, Cole,” the captain said as I turned around.
“Yeah?” I asked.
“Be careful in there, I don’t have the energy to explain to my daughter how her husband died today.”
“No worries, you haven’t had to yet,” I replied. Turning, I looked at the apartment entrance and saw the black smoke billowing out the front door. I jogged up to the door and as I entered, I saw Rick, starting the exterior attack on the fire from outside with his hose in hand. He was spraying down the nearby building so it would not catch on fire. I gave him a nod. Rick Alderman was one of the veterans on the crew. It was he, Micah and I for the past ten years at fire station 9. Kane came on a couple years after me and the others all were fairly new, each under five years. The older vets from the old days when I first started —like Hillman and Conrad— moved away and transferred to other stations. But no matter who came or went, when we were on the scene we were like that of a brotherhood. No man left behind, ever.
Coming inside the burning building, I immediately noticed the extreme temperatures inside. It wasn’t typical, a bit warmer than I was used to. I pushed the sensation of being trapped in a furnace out of my mind as I ventured in further. I trekked through the black smoke and up the stairs in search for the child. My jacket was failing to keep the high temperatures of the heat from my skin and the burning was digging in. Ignoring common-sense reactions to extreme situations is a requirement that they don’t advertise in the job description. Who in his right mind after all would run into a burning building, on purpose?
My visibility was low at the top of the stairs inside. The charcoal-black smoke was thick and filled every square inch. Seeing a door within reach, I came up to it. Squinting, I could see it read ‘one forty four.’ It wasn’t the one I needed. I trudged through the ever-thickening smoke as the heat gnawed at my skin until I found the apartment I needed. One-forty-two. Relieved, I grabbed for the door knob, but found it locked. Taking a few steps back, I launched a kick to the door that would have impressed an MMA fighter, but it wasn’t enough to make it budge. I brought my Halligan front side and stuck it right between the door and the frame. My skin continued to burn from the heat and my muscles screamed in pain as I pried open the door. Finally, it budged open.
Stepping through the smoke filled room, I shouted, “Fire department, Call out!” The sound of the roaring flames and falling pieces of debris made it nearly impossible to hear anything else.
Lowering myself to the floor, I moved through the living room and reached a doorway. An explosion suddenly came from another part of the building. Covering my helmet, I braced myself for any falling debris. Continuing through the doorway and smoke, I noticed a smoldering teddy bear next to me. This must be the girl’s room, I thought to myself as I raised my head to survey the room. Trying to see through the smoke was difficult, but I spotted a closet across the floor. I repeated, “Fire department, Call out!” as I inched my way over to the closet.
Getting to the closet, I found the little girl almost
about to lose consciousness. Ripping my mask off in a frenzy, I shoved it over her face and said, “It is going to be okay, I’m going to get you out of here.” She struggled to breathe into the mask. Our breathing apparatuses weren’t so easy to use when not properly trained. “Just try to take small and short breaths,” I said.
I grabbed the little girl and held her close to my chest in my arms, using myself as a shield as I crawled back towards the doorway. Once back into the living room, I stood up for the rest of the journey out. But before I could reach the front door of the apartment, an explosion came from the kitchen. Covering the girl as much as possible and dropping to the floor, I protected her from the blast. But a piece of metal shot across the room from the explosion and hit me in the upper arm. I thanked God it was only my arm as I regained my footing and continued to the door with the girl. My adrenaline was pumping and my heart was pounding so hard that I had no idea how bad my wound was. As I came to the stairs that led out of the building, pain suddenly shot through my arm, sending me collapsing to the top of the stairs.
Lying there I turned my head and looked down to the base of the stairs. I could see through the mostly faded smoke as Kane came rushing through the doorway and up the stairs to me. He was trying to talk, but a ringing sound deafened his words.
“Just get her out of here!” I shouted, trying to move the little girl out of my arms.
He picked her up and placed the oxygen mask back onto my face. He took off down the stairs as I grasped onto my arm and shoulder. Looking around I saw a railing right near me and I tried to grab at it. Another wave of the worst imaginable pain tore through my arm, sending me to my back. I stared upward at the ceiling as I waited for Kane to come back.
“Taylor!” Kane shouted as he grabbed onto my good arm. I could hear him this time. “You’re bleeding out everywhere!” he shouted as he grabbed me and helped me up to my feet. He bent down and grabbed my axe and Halligan.
I had lost a ton of blood, but I was trying to ignore my injury. “I’ll be okay, don’t worry about me. Is the girl going to be alright?” I asked as he helped me down the stairs.
“She’ll be okay,” Kane said as we came out of the building. I nodded as I tried to walk on my own. An unbearable pain weighed on my bad arm, giving me the sensation of being pulled down.
“Ahhh…” I grunted, grabbing my forearm to help ease the pulling feeling.
A paramedic came over to me and said, “I need to take a look at you.”
“I’m fine,” I replied as I wiped my face of sweat with my good arm. I could feel the soot from the building smear across my forehead. “Just make sure that little girl is okay.”
His eyebrows went up as he looked at my arm and all the blood my jacket was soaked in. Glancing down at where I was hit, I saw my Kevlar jacket was no match for whatever hit me; it tore through the material with ease. Whatever ‘it’ was it managed to slice through all the layers and straight into the muscle of my arm. Suddenly I felt light headed, and everything went black.
Lying in a hospital bed was the last place on earth I wanted to be that afternoon. The rest of the guys were back at the station getting ready for the next call to come in. Being idle, motion-less and like that of a vegetable was absolute torture for me. I felt useless lying in that bed and everything was out of my control. This injury didn’t need an operation in my mind, but the doctors and nurses insisted otherwise.
My wife Megan was three hours away in Yakima visiting a friend, but she headed here as soon as she got word that I was hurt. She overreacted, as usual. Last year I fell off a ladder and scraped my arm, and for a month straight she told me to be careful every time I left for work. She was always worrying about me.
Walking into my hospital room, Megan began crying immediately, as our eyes met on her way over to my bed. Those tears that live in my wife’s eyes were no regular tears at all. They had the ability to cut right through me when they made their appearance.
“Honey, don’t cry. Please? Save those tears for the next time you want something at the mall. Don’t waste them here and on this little injury,” I said with a smile, trying to lighten the mood.
“How can I not cry? You could have died, Cole!” she said, wiping tears from her cheeks.
“I wasn’t even close to dying, love,” I replied, bringing her hand up to my lips. Planting one on her hand, I looked up at her and smiled.
“You should really take Luis up on that offer in California. Me, you and the boys can all just have a normal life and you can work a normal 9 to 5 at MyTech.”
Shaking my head, I said, “I can’t do that to the guys at the station. We’ve been over this…”
She pulled her hand out of mine and said, “You hadn’t been hurt before, though… Not seriously anyway… I don’t want you to end up like my uncle.”
“That was a freak accident and he’s one of only twelve guys who have lost their lives at the station since 1914 when it opened.”
“I know… but it’s still a dangerous line of work.”
“You knew that when we got married. Heck, I met you at the fire station!” I began laughing.
“I know… but you used to have passions that led me to believe you might want something different than this all your life.”
“What’s wrong with saving lives? I saved a little girl in that burning building today. She might not be alive if it wasn’t for me finding her in time.”
“I know… And that’s really cool, babe… I… I just worry.”
“I love you, baby, and I’m sorry I got hurt,” I said grasping onto her hand tightly. “I’ll be more careful next time.”
CHAPTER 2
A couple days into my recovery at home and I was already going out of my mind. Megan was constantly hollering at the boys, and a pungent smell of poop and pee seemed to fill the air in every room. I was more than ready to get back to work pronto.
One morning my cell phone buzzed on the nightstand next to me. Reaching over, I grabbed the remote for the TV and hit the pause on the western I was in the middle of watching. Westerns were about the only part of bed rest I wasn’t minding. Outside of the western rerun channel, I found nothing but weight loss infomercials, how to get rich quick schemes and over-the-top reality shows that seemed anything but real.
“How’s it going, Brother?” Micah asked.
“Oh, you know, just lying around doing nothing with my life.” I scoffed.
He laughed. “I bet it’s a little bit nice to be taking a load off for a while. I don’t recall too many days in the past ten years where you took time off.”
“You would think it’d be nice… but it’s really not. The medications they have me on make me sleepy all the time… and having the boys constantly bumping my bed is getting old quick.”
“Well, at least it’s not long term,” He replied. “Couple of the guys and I were talking about possibly stopping by to see you today. We made a big batch of my Chicken Alfredo for you and your family. Plus, Ted wants to see your incision.”
“I could go for some of your famous Chicken Alfredo right about now. I’m starving! As for Ted… I’m in a cast, so nothing to see for him,” I replied.
Micah laughed. “Alright, I’ll let him know. So that sounds okay with you and Megan if we come over?”
“Sounds good to me,” I replied as I thought about that delicious Alfredo sauce. My mouth was salivating at just the thought of it.
“We’ll be by later this afternoon, probably about three or so. After we get off our shift.”
“Fantastic! Don’t forget the Alfredo!”
I smiled as I hung up the phone and continued watching my western. Thinking about the guys coming over made me do something I hadn’t been doing a lot of since I had been bedridden the last couple days —smile. They knew I was dying on the vine being away from the station and knew exactly what would cheer me up.
Megan came up the stairs and into the bedroom with a laundry basket in her hands. She went over and into the closet. Flip
ping on a light switch, she asked, “Did you need anything from the store? I’m about to load up the boys and head there after I finish this laundry.”
Glancing up at the ceiling for a moment, I thought about it and then said, “Get some of those pretzels and that white sugary stuff you put on them. Those were delicious when you made them for the Christmas party.”
She smiled at me. “Alright,” she replied as she continued putting the folded laundry away.
“Thanks,” I said as I smiled and continued watching my western.
Ding, Dong.
Looking over at the alarm clock on the nightstand, I saw it was already a little after three in the afternoon. I had forgotten to warn Megan about the guys coming over. I could hear Megan open the door downstairs and I cringed as I thought about how she was caught off guard. She hated it when I did that kind of thing.
As all the guys came up the stairs, Megan entered the room first, shooting a glare over at me. “Hey honey… a few of your co-workers decided to stop by and bring us dinner…” I could tell she was searching my eyes to see if I had already known about them coming.
“Oh, wow! What a nice surprise,” I said, trying to save my own hide.
She nodded as her eyes narrowed on me. Thankfully, Bradley began screaming downstairs and pulled her away. “Duty calls. Nice seeing you all,” she said as she headed out of the room.
Micah approached my bedside. “You shouldn’t lie to her.” He had a concerned look on his face as he folded his hands together in front of him. Kane put his hand on Micah’s shoulder and pulled him back out of the way to give himself room to get to me.
“Lay off him, Micah! Can’t you see Taylor’s in enemy territory?” Kane said as he scoffed.
“It’s not that bad being home,” I replied.