Fire at the River's Edge

by Piper Stone

  “There’s no way I can,” Landen managed as he held back emotion. “None.”

  She held her grip and leaned her head on his arm. “I know you can. Just reach out. That’s all.”

  If only living again was that easy.

  “Come to bed. Just be with me.” Holding out her hand, she nodded when he hesitated. “Come on.”

  The moment he grasped her fingers, a single tear slipped from his eye. As she tugged, refusing to take no for an answer, he sagged but trailed behind.

  She removed her robe and slid into bed, a smile never leaving her face. “My hero. My cowboy. You need to go to the celebration with your friends.”

  “You’ve been talking with Michael.”

  “Maybe.” Yawning, she patted the bed. “He’s a wise man.”

  He undressed in the dark, his muscles tense. Lying down next to her, he sighed and pulled the sheet around them before wrapping his arm around her. He hummed, unsure why, but the sound lulled her to sleep. A hero. As he closed his eyes, he thought about her idea. Maybe this was exactly what he needed to do.

  Inhaling, Landen stubbed out his cigarette and turned his face toward the sky as the light breeze wafted across his face. The scent of the city was a reminder of his life, moments shared with family and friends, fellow firefighters saving lives during disastrous events. He stood on the street corner, watching cars whizzing by, pedestrians laughing and talking, completely oblivious to the ominous date looming in the near future.

  A chill trickled down his spine, a pop of goose bumps appearing on his arms. He was out of sorts, unsure of his decision but knew this was the right thing to do. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he walked down the street, each step forward done with purpose. With every long stride, he was drawn closer to a place he hadn’t been to in several years. In his mind’s eye, he could still see the dazzling twin towers, their massive structure a commanding presence.

  He held his breath and picked up his pace, passing by scores of people, none of which he knew but yet a camaraderie was still felt. The sun was just setting over the horizon, the beautiful colors striping the cloudless sky with a rainbow of intense hues, tangerine and plum strings flowing down toward the earth. His mind was filled with damning images, a collage of horrors mixed with an infusion of heroic acts performed by firefighters and bystanders, police and members of the armed services. They were memories he’d never forget, but now there was a need for change, a regrouping of his thoughts.

  As he turned the last corner he faltered and fell against the side of a building. His breathing was ragged, his heart thumping hard against his chest. This was a place he’d promised himself he’d never go again. Why this time? Why this particular year? Because you’re a failure. The thought gave him a slight chuckle. His father continued to remind him of this fact, time and time again. After all, he’d broken the family tradition, leaving a career of honor to run a two-bit bar. Rage rushed into his system, clouding his vision. He hadn’t spoken to his father in almost two years. There was no reason to talk any longer. The retired fireman was ashamed of his son for running away. Fuck you, dad.

  No. He refused to succumb to the same bullshit. His father could no longer have an effect on him or his decisions. This was something he was doing for himself alone. Shoving the ugliness aside, he stood at his full height and took purposeful steps forward. Within seconds he caught Michael’s eye.

  Michael was smiling as he talked and had turned his head. When he noticed Landen, he stopped short, his mouth gaping open. Taking two long strides back away from the crowd of men and women, he twisted his body as if making certain what he was seeing. He patted two others on the shoulders and both turned in Landen’s direction.

  Landen stood his ground and swallowed bile as a rumbling in his stomach threatened to give away his extreme nerves. He winced as all three men walked in his direction, the others turning and giving him surprised but respectful nods.

  “I’m shocked,” Michael said as he held out his hand.

  “Glad you’re here, brother. We’ve missed seeing you,” the second said.

  Brothers in arms. That’s what the team used to call themselves so many years before. Jimmy O’ Rearden had been hurt in the line of duty, his injuries still evident by his limp. The third man, once considered one of his closest friends held a leery expression. Tom Kennedy continued to serve alongside Michael, now rumored to be next in line for captain. He’d kept up with the group, even though he hadn’t been able to bring himself to continue their friendship. “I’m glad to be here.” The words were said with more conviction that he’d anticipated.

  Michael shook his hand then groaned. “Damn. You’re a sight for sore eyes.” Giving Landen a hug, he slapped his friend on the back.

  “Thank you for coming,” Tom said quietly as he stood his ground.

  “I needed to be here,” Landen commented.

  “Come on. We’re just about ready to say a prayer. Then we drink.” Michael laughed, yet the sound was hollow, full of angst. He led the way toward a semi-circle, members of the engine company from various past years collaborating together in a sacred sharing of memories, both good and bad.

  His feet heavy, Landen stood between Michael and Jimmy, a sudden wash of honor pulsing through his veins. He sucked in his breath seeing his old captain, now retired, standing just inside the group. When he saw Landen, his eyes misted and he was forced to look away.

  Jimmy patted Landen on the back as Captain Riley began to speak.

  “We’re gathered here today to remember a time of passing, a moment that America never thought would occur. Many lives were lost on September eleventh, but there were so many who survived thanks to the heroic efforts of the men and women standing in front of me today.” Captain Riley looked at each man and women, giving each an understanding of their time spent together, brutal and unconditional weeks and months when nothing seemed to make sense and the realization that their city had been brutally attacked remained in the forefront of everyone’s minds.

  Landen shuddered. He clenched his fists and held his head high.

  “We fought as one, together during such uncertainty. We worked as a team in order to give life, to provide a sense of safety when so many had lost all hope.”

  Michael wrapped his arm around Landen, pulling him in closer.

  “We, along with members of other fire departments, law enforcement and scores of civilians fought to rebuild our beloved city, to give a reason to live once again. For that, yes, we are heroes. But never forget who the true heroes are. They are everyday New Yorkers, men and women living out their lives. For them is why we honor this place, this revered and hallowed ground. For without them we are nothing.”

  The words lingered, the meaning never to be forgotten. Landen fought back tears as the memories flowed. Only this time, he could see the faces of his teammates, who’d fought so bravely alongside him.

  “Let us pray,” Captain Riley said, his voice cracking.

  “Father, please bring peace to the men and women who are with us today. Let your love and light shine down on us and even though we will remember one of the darkest hours of our country, we will continue to fight every day to bring love back to our country. We are forever grateful for your understanding and guidance.”

  The group remained quiet, solemn in their own forgiveness.

  “Oh Danny Boy, the pipes the pipes are calling… From glen to glen and…”

  Landen lowered his head, tears sliding down his face. As the song was sung, the man’s baritone voice lilting toward the heavens, he forgave himself for his inability to continue the fight. He allowed the love of his fellow firefighters to re-enter his soul, filling the blackness that had once consumed him. For this was a new beginning.

  The group stood still as the wind whistled and for a few seconds, a few precious moments, all seemed right with the world.

  Landen poured another scotch. After taking a gulp, he walked toward the window, palming the glass and gazing out at the lig
hts of the city. The time spent in his bar had been cathartic. They’d shared stories of the past, this time heartfelt memories of the good times, those before the day that had changed everything. He was far from healed, but the time spent had been long overdue.

  Things were going to have to change. One day at a time. That was what his mother used to tell him. He smiled as he thought of her vivacious attitude, the way she took on his father. Tenacious. That was the diminutive woman with a spirit unlike any he’d ever known. She was the real reason he’d joined the fire department. The sentiment he could never tell his father. Chuckling, he raised his glass. “To the past. Never to be forgotten. One day I’ll make you proud again, pop.” Yeah, when he figured out what the hell he was going to do with the rest of his life.

  Exhaling, he walked back to the kitchen table, sitting down and glancing at the papers. They’d been in the same spot for almost six months. The decision whether to try to rejoin the department weighed heavily on his mind. He fingered the lettering and groaned, grabbing a cigarette. As he held the lighter into the dim light and flicked, he studied the flame, the small cresting of blue tinging the outer edges. Fire meant warmth. Fire also meant destruction. Yet, he remained fascinated by the very core of the entity.

  He lit his cigarette and took a long drag then polished off his drink. This was the last night he was going to feel sorry for himself. He twirled the cigarette and took another puff then placed the stick into the small ashtray. Lowering his head to the table, he closed his eyes. He could move on. No, he would move on.

  “Move it, rookie!”

  “What?” Landen jerked his head up. Coughing, he remained disoriented as he blinked several times, trying to focus on where he was. Sniffing, he was suddenly wide awake seeing the smoldering embers only inches from where his face had been. Reacting, he smashed out the remaining sparks and jerked up from the table, surveying the damage.

  He was a goddamn firefighter for God’s sake and he’d allowed a cigarette to burn, falling out of the ashtray while he slept. No, while he fell into a drunken stupor. “Fuck!” He glared down at the papers, the very ones he hoped would restart his life. What a crock of shit.

  Anger furrowed inside of him, the kind he was usually unable to control. Grabbing the half-smoked pack of cigarettes, he stormed into the kitchen, tossing the pack and the lighter into the trash. Grabbing the bottle of booze, he poured the scotch down the drain, watching the golden liquid swirling into a pool. When he was finished, he took a step back. This was the beginning of another chapter of his life.

  This time he refused to fail.

  “I’m glad you brought me here. It’s beautiful,” Samantha said as she squeezed Landen’s arm.

  He shrugged and kissed the top of her head. “It is Labor Day. Time to celebrate.” They stood at the banks of the Hudson River, content in watching the water lapping along the shoreline. He felt more content than he had in years. “I’m going to be a better man, Samantha. To you. To me. To everyone.”

  “You already are a wonderful man.”

  “I’m not the man I should be.” He pulled out his phone and rubbed his finger across the screen.

  “You can be anybody you want to be,” she whispered. “Who are you calling?”

  “Just something I have to do. Then you and I are going to go have dinner. Anywhere you’d like to go.”

  “I love the sound of that.”

  Landen gave her a smile and walked away, his gaze never leaving the river. His hand shaking, he dialed the memorized numbers, holding his breath as the first ring turned into three.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi Dad. I just wanted to give you a call.” As he heard the tone of his father’s voice, one of utter happiness, he made a promise to himself. He would move on and without a doubt, he’d make his father very proud.

  Oh Danny boy…

  Garcia

  “This is a perfect day!” Garcia Puevos exclaimed as he threw his arms back. His voice seemed to echo in the canyon, the baritone sound rumbling. He laughed and inched forward on the rocks, careful of the sharp edges given his bare feet.

  “You’re such a horn dog, dude.”

  He glanced at his best friend and squinted, the bright sun creating an intense shimmer dancing across the entire area. He adored Sabino Canyon, the wildlife and the craggy rocks. He even enjoyed the look of cactus growing in wild formations. When Lucas gave him the finger, he bowed. “I am a wild man.” His body swaying, he heard a series of clinking noises as smaller rocks cascaded down toward the ravine.

  “Yeah. Yeah. Catch!” Lucas tossed him a beer, howling when Garcia almost tumbled off the rock.

  “You’re an asshole.” Garcia exhaled after grabbing the can. While the drop wasn’t significant, the fall could have meant an end to their glorious few days. He popped the top and jumped off the formation, tripping and pitching toward the ground. After pushing off with one hand, he grumbled. This was going to be a perfect camping trip. Nothing could ruin his good mood. After all, he was celebrating graduating from college. He had his whole life ahead of him. Unfortunately, he had no idea what he wanted to do for a career, no matter what was expected of him. This was supposed to be reflective time, but with Lucas and his girlfriend tagging along, the semi-vacation had turned into one big party. What the hell. He took a long pull on the beer and walked toward their tents. “Where are the girls?”

  “Off finding flowers or some shit,” Lucas said as he tossed his empty beer can to the side and grabbed another out of the cooler. “Exactly what are we going to do for three days? The hike was cool but I’m sore.”

  “Enjoy nature. Become one with the world around us. Hey, you decided you had to come so shut the hell up.” Garcia winked as he moved closer. In truth, this trip meant everything to him. Getting away from the day to day grind of working at the grocery store was more than needed. He’d been losing his mind to the doldrums of checking out tourists and locals. Fish. Meat. Produce. He knew all the numbers by heart. At some point, he was going to have to figure out what to do with a business degree. You have so much talent if you’ll just apply yourself. He’d been hearing the same mantra since high school.

  “Shit, man. You sound like a Hallmark card. Bullshit.”

  Before Garcia had a chance to retort, he heard the girls as they approached, their giggles reminding him this was supposed to be a romantic outing. Granted, in the near one-hundred-degree heat, they’d all begun to wonder whether they could last three days. He pressed his finger across his mouth, fighting laughter, and moved behind a bank of rocks. Eyeing his girlfriend of almost two years, he sucked in his breath. She was a beauty. Wearing skintight shorts and a cropped top, his cock ached just thinking about spending time with her. Alone. Amanda was a looker, all fire and brimstone, a woman who refused to be denied. And he was the man to give her exactly what she needed.

  “That was fun.” Amanda brushed her long hair past her shoulders. “Invigorating.”

  “I’m still hot,” the other girl whined as she moved toward Lucas. “We could have gone to Scottsdale, spent time in one of those resorts. We’d be sitting around a pool right about now, drinking margaritas instead of cheap beer.”

  “That takes money, Jen. Christ. Did you come into an inheritance we don’t know about?” Amanda admonished. “Where is my boyfriend? Did you toss him over the edge, Lucas?”

  “Growl!” Garcia jumped out from behind the rocks, grabbing her around the waist.

  “Eek!” she screamed and fought her attacker. Seeing Garcia, she pummeled her fists against his chest. “Stop scaring me half to death. God!”

  “I scared you. Aww.” Laughing, Garcia pulled her against his chest and captured her mouth, pressing his tongue inside. As he rubbed his hand down the length of her back, digging his fingers into her perfect porcelain skin, his cock pushed against her belly, aching like a son of a bitch.

  She accepted the kiss then pushed hard, breaking the connection. Her eyes held admonishment. “You are one bad boy.”


  “Why you love me,” Garcia said in a commanding tone. He reached out, a feeble attempt to corral the beauty, but she flitted away, turning in a full circle.

  “Oh, no you don’t.” Laughing, Amanda gave him an evil eye. “We found a spring.”

  “A spring?” Lucas asked. “Here?”

  “More like a ravine with water but the pool of goo cooled us down.” The tone of her voice holding disdain, Jen wrapped her arm around Lucas’ neck, kissing his skin as she made exaggerated noises.

  Garcia wasn’t surprised. Given the recent rains, there was bound to be some stagnant water. This was monsoon season after all, the time with a heavy rain could turn the driest of desert areas into raging rivers. “Just be careful. You never know how deep they are.”

  Amanda rolled her eyes. “My protector. Hey, we’re all wet. Not a bad way to be.”

  “You better stop teasing or else,” Garcia ruffed then reached out for her.

  She skittered away, dancing as she headed for the cooler. “What’s for dinner?”

  “I think we’re killing some wildlife,” Lucas answered as he nodded toward Garcia. “Got yer gun, bubba?”

  “No need. I’m a real he-man. Gonna kill some wildcats with my bare hands,” Garcia responded, pretending to shake an imaginary animal.

  “Over my dead ass body. Jen and I thought ahead. All you gentlemen, and I say that loosely, need to do is handle the meat. We’ll do the rest.” Amanda wagged her finger. When neither responded, she gave them both a dirty look. “Come on. One of you boys needs to start a fire before it gets dark.”

  For some reason, Garcia was thrown back to a moment in his past. The rest of the conversation rolling into a bubble, he walked back toward the series of rocks, climbing on top. From where he stood, he could see miles in the canyon. The desert held such a calling. The wind whistled, creating a peaceful melody, the tune high pitched and haunting. A single bead of sweat oozed down the side of his face as heat rose from his chest and neck to his face.