by J. R. Tate
“I think some of the guys are gonna head over to a bar we all like to go to in town. Just want to have a few drinks, maybe play some pool and cut loose for awhile,” Lawton said as he glanced from the driver’s side.
Michael wasn’t fully listening to him, but the mention of the bar drew his attention back in and he sat up, trying to mask the fact that he was caught off guard. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand and let out a yawn. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. It’s a good way to let off steam. A few cold ones won’t hurt.”
If only Lawton knew how much his statement was false for Michael. Looking back out the window, he saw that they were only a few miles out of town. “I don’t know, man. I’m kinda tired. I need to get some rest.” His excuse sounded lame even to his own ears.
“We’re not planning on shutting the place down. Just come hang out. If anything, a beer will help you sleep, McGinnis.”
Sighing, Michael tapped his finger against the glass. He didn’t have to order alcohol. He could grab a Coke and play some pool. If he wanted to gain respect with these guys, one of the best ways to do it was be their friend. Back in New York, if a guy in the house never wanted to do anything with the crew, it was construed as being stuck up. Michael didn’t want to be labeled that way. Even with the temptations near, he would be strong and avoid it.
“Okay, sounds good.”
“Awesome. We’ll just ride together after we get all the gear and things put up. It’ll be fun. Don’t look so tense. Ain’t like you’ve never been to a bar before!”
***
The bar was just a small, hole in the wall place that was packed with different types of people. At one end of the bar there was a group that didn’t even look to be over twenty-one. The bartenders and waitresses all seemed to know everyone by name, each of them smiling and looking happy to be doing their jobs. Michael figured he probably stuck out like a sore thumb among all of the regular patrons. He pulled the bill of his baseball cap low, instantly feeling overwhelmed at all of the alcohol ads, flashing lights, and menus being thrown his way.
The other firefighters were sitting at the back near a pool table. A few of them were already playing. He and Lawton grabbed two chairs at the table and the waitress waited to take their order.
“I’ll have some bourbon,” Lawton said.
The waitress turned to Michael and poised her pen between her fingers as she patiently waited. “I’ll just have a Pepsi.” Michael kept his voice low in hopes that no one heard his order. Maybe he could pass it off as a mixed drink when she brought them out.
“A Pepsi? Have you gone crazy, McGinnis? I think the smoke out there is affecting your thinking.” He turned to the waitress and laughed. “Get this man some bourbon as well, Misty. Put it on my tab.” The girl nodded and left the table.
“You didn’t have to do that, Lawton. No need to buy my drinks.”
“Hell, you order a Pepsi in this place and you’re gonna get us kicked out! We’ll forgive you this time.”
Lawton turned to the other guys and went to challenging them in a game of pool. Michael sat back and watched, his pulse racing at the thought that a glass full of bourbon would soon be sitting right in front of him, right in his clutches, with several other men beside him drinking their own drinks. And to make it worse, the drink was bought for him. He’d look shady and rude for not drinking it. What was he to do? The last thing he wanted to do was admit to everyone that he was an alcoholic. For one, he barely knew them and it was none of their business, and second, that respect he was searching for by coming out to the bar would sharply be pulled away once they found out he had a problem. Would their trust level go down? Sighing, he adjusted his hat and tried to calm his nerves.
In times like this he had Eva around to help control the urges and temptations. In New York he was faced with them daily, but always had her to pull him back to reality and remind him of everything that was at stake and what could be lost just from one small sip on the poison. His palms were sweaty and he was panicking. Standing up, he nodded at everyone, hoping he looked calmer than he felt on the inside.
“Gonna hit the head. Be right back.”
He went into the bathroom and locked the door behind him. Running cold water over his face, he closed his eyes and savored the feel on his dry and cracked skin. He hated the reflection that stared back at him. He didn’t want to go back out there. The simple thing to do would be to man up and just say no to the bourbon. Why was it feeling more complicated than it should have been?
When he got back out to their table, the glass was waiting for him at his seat. Lawton was already drinking on his, going back and forth from the table to the game. Michael sat down and studied the drink as if it was from an unknown planet. The amber liquid looked smooth and soothing and instantly, Michael thought about how medicinal it could be. He was having trouble sleeping. The insomnia was an easy fix.
Just down the drink.
Michael’s hand gripped the glass so tight that with any more amount of pressure, shattering it was a great possibility.
One sip will ease your troubled mind.
Scooting the glass across the surface of the table, he tried to not even look at it and watch his fellow comrades play pool. Lawton came back to the table, noticing Michael was back.
“What ya waiting for, McGinnis? How about we do a toast?” He whistled to get everyone’s attention. “Everyone shut up for a sec! I think we need to do a toast!”
“A toast to what, Lawton?” Someone yelled from the other side of the bar, a hint of dismay in their voice.
“To Manor Fire Department, for going out, kicking ass, and taking names. Also, to our new guy, all the way from New York City!”
Michael tried not to make eye contact with anyone. How was he going to fake taking a drink when he had been pointed out among the crowd? He clanked his glass against several people around him, lifted the brim to his mouth, and took in the strong scent of the alcohol. He pressed the glass to his lips and was thankful that everyone around him was too busy hollering and having a good time that no one noticed that the drink never entered his mouth.
Was he being paranoid? Thousands of people chose not to drink. Why couldn’t he just stand up and say hey, I’m not a drinker! For some reason, it felt as if his pride had taken a huge blow by just entering the pub. In reality, it was likely that no one would even care. He’d be the brunt of some harmless ridicule, but he was used to that from the men up at Ladder Twenty One.
The walls were closing in on him and it felt as if someone had their hands around his neck, choking the last bit of life out of him. He made his way to the back exit that led to the alleyway, surprised that no one questioned where he was going. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and quickly dialed Eva, hands shaking as he leaned against the bricks of the building.
“Hey Mikey!” Her voice was cheerful, sending an instant smile to Michael’s lips.
“Hey Ev…” He trailed off and kicked a beer bottle further down the dirt roadway.
“What’s wrong? Everything okay?”
He scooted his backside down the wall into a crouching position, closing his eyes and wishing he could get the scent of the bourbon out of his nose. “I needed to call you for some support.”
There was silence on the other end for a few seconds. “What’s going on, babe?”
Opening his eyes, he looked up at the star blanketed sky. It was beautiful, even with the smoky fog hindering the brightness. “I uhh, the guys wanted to come out to a bar tonight. At first I declined, but they practically begged me. I figured I’d come and just hang out and be okay, but Eva, I’m not. The guy I’m staying with ordered me a drink and I was really close to taking a drink.”
“Oh Mikey, but you didn’t, did you? You walked away obviously.”
He took his baseball cap off and raked his hand through his hair. “When I say really close, I mean that it was right at my lips. And I walked away for now, but I gotta go back inside after I get done
talking to you. Lawton is my ride home and I don’t think he has any intention of leaving any time soon.”
“Call a cab,” she replied, her tone of voice changing from cheery to concerned. “Good job on not taking a drink. That’s really good, Mikey.”
“I don’t think they have cabs in this town. I just needed to talk to someone who knows my problem. I don’t really want these guys knowing.”
“I’m sure they’d understand if they did know though.”
Michael scoffed and began to pace behind a row of dumpsters. “I’m not willing to take that chance. We are side by side in this mess and I don’t want them thinking anything about not being able to trust me.” Michael sighed and tried to compose his emotions. “I appreciate you talking to me. I’ll figure something out when I go back in.”
“Okay Mikey. I love you and I miss you.”
“Love you too, babe. See you soon.” He put the phone back in his pocket, closed his eyes, and braced himself for entering the bar environment again. Everyone was still in the same corner with the same guys playing pool. His glass was in the same exact spot he left it, staring back at him as an enemy that could take him down easily.
“McGinnis, where’d you go? I think you should play winner of this game!”
“Sounds good, Lawton.”
His plan was to just ignore the drink. Playing pool and getting involved with that would help him forget. Lawton was already buzzing and Michael was sure he didn’t even remember ordering him a drink. He grabbed a pool stick, chalked up his hands, and began a game against two other men on the crew. His nerves slowly relaxed and he actually had fun. After a couple of games, he glanced at the table, and the waitress had already gathered up all of the stray glasses.
Smiling to himself, he had felt a sense of satisfaction that he hadn’t in awhile. He had defeated his urge to drink the bourbon while also keeping his problem a secret. Along with that success, he felt he had started to develop a bond with everyone, and the camaraderie felt even stronger as they left the bar than it did just the few hours before they had come in.
Chapter Twelve
The fires in Texas were dominating the morning news down at the station house. Reports about Governor Rick Perry cutting off aid to the volunteer firehouses were making headlines all over the country. Eva stood in shock at all of the coverage and videos being posted, with reporters stating that thousands of acres, many homes, and tons of injuries were being tallied as they spoke. Several people were being interviewed and many were questioning if it was the end of the world.
“My state is burning! Our homes are burning. Why would Governor Perry do this to our volunteers when it’s what makes up most of what our state is protected by?” A woman cried and pleaded on camera, her tissue soaked as she tried to wipe the tears from her face.
Many testimonials were played and Eva stood still, stoic, and in shock. “Those poor people,” she replied, not even caring if anyone was around to hear her.
“No kidding.” Gregg was on the couch, watching the same thing she was. “I bet it’s ten times worse to see in person. What did it all look like?”
Eva sat down across from him, still keeping her eyes on the news. She wasn’t sure why she was putting herself through the torture, but it was like when people said not to look down. People still did it. “I really didn’t see the fires right up close and personal. We weren’t in the path where I was. It was more to the south of us and moving south.”
“But you were close, right?” Gregg asked as he tapped the remote control against the side of his head. “Maybe we oughta turn this off.”
“No, don’t.” Eva held her hand up. “Don’t turn it off. I’ll be fine.” She forced a smile.
“You sure?” He arched his eyebrow. “You haven’t taken your eyes off of it since you came in this morning.”
“I’m fine. And to answer your questions, yes, we were close. You could smell the smoke in the air and during certain parts of the day you could see the haze. It was just so dry, like a spark from anything could just erupt into a flame big enough to do what you see on that TV right now.” She looked back up at the news report that showed clips of fire trucks headed to and from the fire, wondering if Mikey had been in any of them. “We went and visited a firehouse in this small town called Manor. We could see a lot of the fire from there and it was a good forty miles from the main area.”
Gregg shook his head in disbelief and sat forward. “Freaking incredible. I know they say wildfires are nature’s way of cleaning things up, but this is just downright insane. I’ve been reading. They said the state has been burning up since about April, all the way from the panhandle down to central Texas. And what makes it worse is that their governor is cutting funds on the departments that most of the state makes up. Pretty shitty if you ask me.”
“I had no idea he was doing that until this morning. Mikey didn’t mention any of that to me when I talked to him last.”
“They just need a good rainstorm to come through and rain for days.” Gregg sat forward on the couch. “Speaking of McGinnis, how’s he doing? I know he’s been down there for what, a week now doing it all?”
Had it been a week? Time was moving so slow, but at the same time so quickly. The last time she had spoken to him was when he was having a problem at the bar. A few days had passed and they had sent a few text messages back and forth to check in and that was the only communication they had really had. Mikey had mentioned that they were pushing them, making them work sixteen hour days with minimal sleep, food, and water.
“He’s doing pretty good, considering the situation. He’s not real talkative about it, just that it’s painful to force people away from homes they know they won’t ever come back to.”
Gregg stared at her for a second, his face full of sorrow. “Yeah, it’s one thing to get them out while the place is literally on fire. They usually have no problem in that situation. I can see the problem with them having to leave before the place is ever burning. Talk about some hard decisions. How does a person decide what to take with them and what to leave? I don’t think I could do it.”
“Me either.”
“Not to mention that the majority of those guys have other jobs they have to juggle with. My respect goes out to them.”
Eva shifted her weight in the chair and grimaced when images of burned up wildlife and livestock showed on the screen. “That’s one of the main reasons Mikey stayed down there. They are so short handed with it. He just thought it was what he needed to do. He was worried about abandoning you guys.”
Gregg smirked and took a sip out of his coffee mug. “We are in no way hurting like they are. Do we miss seeing him on the truck? Of course we do. He’s the man I want beside me in a fire, making the decisions and taking on the belly of the beast. But it seems Texas needed him worse right now.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” Eva wished that people would actually tell Mikey that. His worry was that no one was taking him seriously after his diagnosis with PTSD and having to be on medical leave. Maybe after all of this he’d feel more accepted. She could only hope something positive would come out of it all.
***
Michael was so tired that he could barely hold his eyes open. They had been fighting fires well into the late evening hours, the main reason being that the winds seemed to dissipate more at night, helping them try to get some form of control over where the fire was burning. The winds during the day were gusting up over forty miles per hour, frustrating any firefighting efforts being made to sway to flames away from heavily populated areas.
He sat on the tailgate of Lawton’s truck and drank down tons of water, brought in by another auxiliary group that was going around and offering aid to anyone who needed it. The water tasted so good and was so cold. Sweat stung his eyes as he took his helmet off. Everyone had caked soot and dirt all over their faces. The whites of people’s eyes and their teeth were bright against the contrast on their skin.
All in all, Michael had been assigned as a
search and rescue man since that was his expertise in New York. He had not fought any fire with a hose. He had learned quickly how to build firebreaks and ravines. For the most part, civilians in the line of the fire were gone, having minded the evacuation requirements put in place by Bastrop County. It was seldom that they did run across people too stubborn to comply, but once they came in, getting them to leave happened. It was as if the actual presence of firefighters was a rude awakening that they truly were in danger, and that the local government wasn’t just overreacting.
The company’s morale had been shot with word of the funding being cut. Many people were confused as to why the budget was being downsized in a situation where they truly needed it. All throughout the day, all that was really commented on or talked about was how they already had to pay so much out of pocket before. It was eye opening for Michael. He was used to everything being provided for him with FDNY, from his turnout gear all the way to firehouse t-shirts and odds and ends. He knew one thing he’d get out of all of this – he would never complain about his city pay anymore. Things could definitely be a lot worse.
They made it back to Lawton’s place late, and Michael was almost too tired to even hop in the shower. Getting a glimpse at himself in the mirror changed his mind. He couldn’t help but laugh at the sight in front of him. Anywhere his gear didn’t cover his skin, he was charcoal black. His hair had so much dirt and grease in it that even when he brushed it down with his fingers, it shot back up in random directions.
“I’m glad you’re laughing, McGinnis. Today wasn’t one of our good days.”
Michael backed away from the mirror. Aside from the budget cuts, it was apparent something else had happened that he didn’t hear about. “What do you mean?”
Lawton sat on the edge of the bathtub. “One of those kids we pulled out that house earlier by the river passed away. Larry with the Elgin Fire Department called me about an hour ago. Smoke inhalation.”
