by Harmon, AJ
“Yep,” she openly ogled him as they walked out into the darkness. “Let’s go.”
They walked around the corner and down three blocks to Trish’s apartment. They chatted about what they both did for a living -- she was a photographer for a fashion magazine, and how much they loved the Buffalo Bills. By the time they reached her apartment door they were done with the small talk, and once inside, their mouths were too busy doing other things anyway.
*****
The firehouse held Ladder 5, Engine 24 and Battalion 2 to serve their area of Greenwich Village. The communal areas (the kitchen, dining room and large family room), the offices and the sleeping quarters were on the upper floor.
Tim had recently been promoted to Lieutenant, so he now had a desk in a shared office with the three others. He didn’t like the paperwork side of his job…he liked the action part; helping people, putting out fires, making a difference in his community. That’s why he’d moved to the West Village. He wanted to be a part of the community that he served.
The sounding alarm snapped him out of the daze he was in as he tried to focus on an equipment maintenance chart on the computer screen in front of him. In under a minute, he was in full response gear and climbing onto the truck. Within four minutes they were pulling up in front of an apartment building to respond to a fire.
As members of his team ran into the building and started up the three flights of stairs, Tim watched and waited for orders. Within seconds, he was informed over the radio that it was just a small grease fire and was put out with an extinguisher. The adrenaline pumping through his veins eased, and he sat down on the runners on the side of the truck.
Out of nowhere, a dog appeared to the right of him. Tim pulled off his gloves and whistled to the German Shepherd and it responded by walking slowly toward him. He held out his hand as the dog cautiously sniffed him and then Tim carefully lifted his hand to pet it between the ears.
“Good girl,” he cooed in a soothing voice. The dog responded by pushing into his hand and tilting her head to the side.
“You like that?” he grinned and then used both hands to scratch her behind the ears.
Tim loved dogs. After years of pleading and begging, when he was nine years old his parents had given him a dog from the humane society. Tim had been asking for a Doberman, but Maureen had said that she would never purchase a dog from a puppy mill and that if he wanted a dog, there were plenty looking for good homes. His father, Peter, had taken him to the shelter on a Saturday morning and after walking the rows of kennels, his eyes met with those of a long-haired black mutt. The technician had said they thought he was about four years old and a shepherd mix, but after spending five minutes together, he didn’t care what kind of breed he was and named him Sam. They were friends for life.
And they were too. Tim walked Sam, played with him, bathed him, fed him and loved him. When he’d died the week before Tim’s high school graduation, his heart had broken. He hadn’t had the courage to think about getting another dog, and Sam had died over ten years ago. His lifestyle didn’t allow for a dog anymore.
But he still loved them and enjoyed his few minutes with this one until he heard a whistle and she turned and ran. She turned at the corner and disappeared from his sight. Tim put his gloves back on and climbed onto the truck, ready to return to the station.
*****
The leaves were starting to turn brilliant shades of gold and pink, and there was a slight chill to the breeze. Janie bundled up her son and tucked him in the stroller and Matt zipped up his daughter’s coat, and the doorman held the door as they stepped onto the sidewalk.
They walked a couple of blocks southwest and stopped at the barrier. Janie closed her eyes and breathed deeply, filling her lungs with the crisp air. She loved their family walks along the river. Ella wanted to walk on the concrete wall, so her father swung her up and she landed on her feet, giggling with delight. He gripped her hand tightly as she balanced herself and walked the wall in tightrope style.
“Where shall we go after this?” he asked his daughter.
“Can we visit Uncle Mark and Aunt Katy?”
Matt turned to his wife and she smiled and nodded. “Well,” Matt said to Ella, “Why don’t we meet them for lunch?”
Ella smiled and nodded. “That would be terrific!” she agreed.
Matt chuckled and Janie pulled out her cell phone to make arrangements with her best friend and sister-in-law. They would meet in an hour. That would give Ella and Christopher some time to run around the park a couple of times so they’d perhaps sit still in the restaurant.
The six of them met at an upscale eatery a few blocks from Mark and Katy’s apartment. They lived in Greenwich Village three blocks from Matt and Mark’s younger brother Andrew and about ten blocks from Tim. The hostess seated them on the side of the dining room; Christopher’s stroller pushed up against the exposed brick wall.
The men talked business for a few minutes while the women got the children settled and occupied. Matt only spent three days a week in the office now and was considering cutting back further. Mark supported his brother’s decision to devote his time to his family, but made sure Matt was in the loop in all areas of the real estate empire they’d built. They made Trump look like a wannabe.
After about ten minutes Katy called timeout. “Okay, you’ve had your work time, now it’s eating time,” she grinned.
Mark leaned over and kissed her with a smile. “Yes, ma’am! The topics of conversation are all yours.”
“I’d like to talk about school,” Ella said, coloring in her book without looking up.
“Yes?” Janie asked, intrigued at her daughters’ statement. “What about school?”
“Well,” she sighed. “I love Aunt Nic and she will be the best teacher I’ve ever had.”
Matt chuckled at his three year old daughter. “I’m sure she will be Little L, but you don’t go to kindergarten until next year. Don’t you like your pre-school teacher?”
Ella had only been in pre-school for a week but apparently knew what she liked and what she didn’t like.
“Well,” she sighed again, “She’s not as pretty as mommy.”
“Nobody is as pretty as mommy,” Matt agreed.
“And sometimes she gets mad at Darren when he draws on the table.”
“As she should,” nodded Katy.
“And when she reads the book in story time, she looks at the pictures before she shows them to us.” She was still concentrating on her crayons.
“Well I can see how that would upset you,” Mark grinned at his niece.
“But I guess she’s okay,” Ella conceded. “And I only have to go…have to go…how many days mommy?”
“You go three days a week,” Janie answered.
“I think I like the drive the best,” Ella stated.
“The drive?” Katy asked.
“Uh-huh,” Ella nodded. “With Ray. I love Ray.”
Ray was Matt and Janie’s driver. He was a trusted employee and had become a good friend. Matt wouldn’t trust just anyone with his daughter.
A plate of warm bread and butter was placed on the table by their waitress and finally Ella looked up and grinned. “May I have some please?”
“You may,” smiled Janie, and she began to feed her children.
Halfway through lunch they heard the sirens before they saw the fire engine race past. Well, as fast as one can race through Manhattan. Then the ladder truck drove past the restaurant.
“That’s Tim,” Mark frowned. He made the sign of the cross across his body. “Keep him safe God.”
*****
The building was made of brick, pre-war construction, but there was black smoke billowing out of the windows of the upper floors. Tim’s truck was the third ladder to respond to the fire, meaning it was a big one. They needed to get it under control fast.
Hoses were being run and firefighters ran in organized chaos. Onlookers stood, mouths opened, down the street behind the police barric
ades. The driver moved Ladder 5 into position and Bud, an experienced firefighter on Tim’s team, began climbing to reach a window several floors up. The window was already open as Bud reached it and he crawled inside the building. Jeff, climbing quickly, was almost to the top of the ladder ready to assist as needed.
They appeared to be on the floor below the fire, with one of the other ladder trucks trying to access the floor above the smoke. Tim silently prayed that they could get everyone out. Tenants from the lower floors were running out of the front door obviously scared to death.
As Tim looked back up, Bud radioed that he had three adults coming out to the ladder as the stairs were now unusable…the smoke was too thick. An elderly woman came out first and with the help of Jeff she started down the long ladder after being hooked in for safety. Then a young woman climbed from the window and Bud hooked her up to the safety harness, and she followed Jeff and the old woman down. Tim could see that she was extremely agitated and was screaming at Bud, but Bud was trying to get an old man out of the window and wasn’t paying any attention.
Tim helped the old woman that Jeff had safely brought down the ladder, and the paramedics took her as soon as her feet hit the street. Jeff carefully guided the young woman, who was now all but hysterical, off the ladder and handed her off to Tim.
“My dog!” she screamed. “Cleo is up there! Let me go back!”
Tim grabbed her arms, trying to get her attention.
“PLEASE!” she screamed, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Bud had the old man on his back and was almost down the ladder.
“CLEO!” the woman sobbed.
Tim climbed back on the truck and up to the ladder. He helped Jeff and Bud get the old man off the truck and the word came through the radio that the building had been cleared. Tim pulled the radio to his lips and asked if anyone had recovered a dog. The answer was negative.
“Where did the young woman come from?” Tim asked Bud.
“One apartment over,” Bud nodded to the left.
“I’m going in,” Tim yelled as he grabbed the ladder. “There’s a dog still in there,” he screamed over his shoulder as he raced up the steps.
By the time he got to the window, smoke was filling the floor and visibility was becoming difficult. With his mask on and oxygen flowing, Tim shone his flashlight and found the front door of the apartment. Black smoke engulfed the hallway and Tim had to feel the walls behind him to find the door of the adjacent apartment. He opened the door and went in, closing it behind him, trying to keep out as much smoke as possible. Visibility was better but not great.
He pulled off his mask and yelled. “Cleo! Cleo! Here girl!” There was no response and a dog didn’t appear. He kept walking through the living room and down a short hallway. Opening a door, he called again. “Cleo! Come on girl.” He whistled and heard a faint sound. He backtracked down the hall to another closed door. Opening it slowly, he called again. “Cleo!”
A bark! Relief flooded through Tim as the big German Shepherd ran to him, panting wildly. “Hey girl,” he sighed, rubbing her head. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
Tim had been trained to bring bodies down a ladder, but he’d never brought a canine down before, and Cleo wasn’t a little dog, and she was scared which made the exercise even more interesting. One step at a time, they made their way back to the apartment next door and to the open window. Jeff was halfway up the ladder waiting for him.
Amazingly, Cleo let Tim hook her to him and then to the ladder. Her big brown eyes looked up at him, somehow knowing he was saving her and showing appreciation as she licked his face.
“Come on girl,” he whispered as they slowly took one step and then another down the ladder. By the time they reached Jeff, Tim was still talking to her with each step, his voice calming her and encouraging her. And as they stepped on to the truck, Cleo looked up at Tim and he could see the gratitude there.
“CLEO!” the young woman screamed as Tim guided the dog off the truck. The dog ran to her mistress and the woman hugged her tightly. “Thank you!” she cried. “Thank you so much!”
“You’re welcome,” smiled Tim. All in a day’s work!
2.
Beth Collins checked into a hotel a couple of blocks from her apartment. The landlord had been vague as to what was happening with the building and when the tenants would be allowed back inside. The only thing damaged by the fire on her floor had been in the stair well. Her apartment was fine, other than being filled with black smoke and a small amount of water damage. She’d contacted her insurance agent and hoped her displacement would be very temporary.
Once the fire had been extinguished, one of the firemen had escorted her up to her apartment to get a few things. She’d packed a bag quickly and grabbed Cleo’s leash and her favorite toy, a stuffed octopus that had a squeaker in each one of its furry ‘legs’. She sat on the hotel bed and unpacked her suitcase. She’d grabbed toiletries, her hair straightener, her grandmother’s diamond and ruby brooch and a pair of antique diamond earrings. She also grabbed the stack of manuscripts from her desk, thanking God that they’d been spared. At least she could still work. There was no point in bringing clothes…they all reeked of smoke. Tomorrow she’d go shopping, but now, all she wanted to do was snuggle with Cleo and thank her lucky stars that the nice fireman had rescued her faithful companion. She couldn’t imagine life without Cleo.
*****
Maureen clapped wildly as she watched the evening news. “Peter!” she yelled to her husband. “Tim’s on the television!”
A reporter told of the fireman’s rescue of a German Shepherd and had footage of him climbing down the ladder, the dog being half carried. “New York’s bravest,” the anchor had repeated with a smile as they went to a commercial break.
“Hope he doesn’t keep the mutt,” Peter muttered as he came as sat next to his wife. “He’s got a soft heart when it comes to dogs.”
“No,” Maureen shook her head. “They said the dog was reunited with her owner.”
“Good,” replied Peter. “Because you know we’d get stuck with it while he was at work.”
Maureen smiled and nodded. “That we would.”
*****
“Isn’t that just precious?” one of the crew from Engine 24 mocked.
“The doggie hero!” laughed another.
Tim just shook his head and grinned. He knew it was all in fun, but two weeks had been long enough. The video from the local news had gone viral on the internet and he was starting to get a bit tired of it all.
“It’s good PR,” the Captain had said. “Great for the department.” The good natured teasing had continued.
Tim was drying the truck after it’d been washed. The garage doors were open and the crisp fall air crept into the firehouse. Barking made him look up and as he did, a German Shepherd wrenched itself from its owners’ grip and came at him at a full run.
Stunned for half a second, Tim watched the dog flying towards him. He dropped to his knee as Cleo pounced on him, licking him all over, her tail wagging wildly.
“Hello beautiful,” he grinned and rubbed her back.
Cleo continued her love fest with her new best friend and Tim chuckled as he accepted the wet kisses.
“I’m sorry,” a voice said, making him look up. “Cleo! Down girl!”
Cleo pulled back and sat at the woman’s feet, her tail sweeping back and forth, her tongue hanging from her mouth.
“It’s fine,” Tim laughed as he stood. “I’m glad she’s doing well.”
“Me too,” came the reply. “And I have you to thank for that.”
He immediately recognized the accent. She was English. Not Adele’s accent, but real English, like Mary Poppins, or Keira Knightly in Pirates of the Caribbean.
She stood with perfect posture and extended her right hand. “I wanted to stop by and say thank you for rescuing Cleo.”
Tim accepted the outstretched hand and smiled. “Just doing my job, ma’am.”
Tim took the small box she offered. It had a clear plastic window in the top. Cupcakes. “Thank you,” he smiled again. “But it’s not necessary.”
“Of course it’s not necessary,” she replied. “But I wanted to do…something.”
“Well, thank you.”
“I’m Beth Collins and you’ve already met Cleo.”
“Tim.” He stepped forward and scratched Cleo between her ears. “Yes. We’ve already met, haven’t we girl?” Cleo’s tail continued to wag. “You’re English,” he looked at Beth.
She smiled. “Yes.”
“I really like Coldplay.”
Beth nodded in agreement.
“ And Snow Patrol,” he added.
“Me too,” she grinned. “But they’re Irish.”
“Really?”
Beth pursed her lips, fighting a smile, and nodded.
“Huh,” he said.
“Well, I just wanted to say thanks. Bye.”
“Bye,” he said as she turned and led Cleo from the firehouse and onto the street.
“Was that her?” Jeff asked, walking over to Tim.
“Her?”
“The woman and the dog from the fire?”
“Yep.”
“Damn! She’s hot!”
“The women or the dog?”
“Ha Ha!” Jeff smirked. “The woman!”
“Yes she is.” Yes, she most certainly is!
*****
Beth led Cleo quickly back to her apartment. It was only a few blocks. She’d just moved back in the day before. Her insurance agent had arranged for the carpets and furniture to be professionally cleaned and a cleaning service had come in and taken care of the rest of the apartment. She had taken most of her clothes to the dry cleaners a block from her building and the rest she was in the process of washing. Her washer and dryer would be working overtime over the next couple of days.
She closed the door behind her and let Cleo off the leash. She leaned back against the wall and shut her eyes and sighed. It was one thing to see the firemen in their full gear, helmets and all. It was completely different seeing Tim in blue slacks and a white polo looking all, all…gorgeous. Beth shook her head and tried to shake the image from her mind. She had taken the cupcakes over and said thank you. She needed to forget about Fireman Tim and concentrate on getting back to work. The upheaval of the past few weeks had left her far behind in her reading.