by Anne Pfeffer
“Get on the ground! Crawl toward my voice!”
I slid through the window, then backed up immediately to place my hand on the wall. Dropping as low as I could, I followed the wall toward the left, going in the direction of her voice. The wall turned the corner, my hand going with it. Damn. I hadn’t counted the number of steps to the corner. That would have helped me coming back
The wall, now going in another direction, was hot, meaning there was fire on the other side. No fear, I said to myself. Just do the job. But I knew what could happen.
The large flames in the next room, heating the walls, were trying to get in. When they hit the oxygen that was still in here, they would explode into an inferno and French fry us instantly. It was called flashover.
“Where are you?” I yelled.
“Here!” Her voice came from straight ahead.
I dropped to my knees and began to crawl, keeping my left shoulder firmly against the wall. “Come to my voice! And talk to me!”
My eyes burned, and my lungs filled with smoke. I gagged and coughed, fearing for the baby. How could an infant possibly survive in this?
I couldn’t see an inch in front of me. My head spun and my stomach lurched, whether due to smoke or hunger, I wasn’t sure. I kept moving along the wall. “Here!” I couldn’t get more than a word out at a time. Above me, a flash near the ceiling as a tiny lick of flame from outside the room crept in and combined with a pocket of oxygen. A sneak preview of coming events.
“Crawl!” It was all I could say.
I heard coughing and sneezing and stretched forward my right hand toward the sound. “I’m here!” I said. My hand felt fabric, grabbed, and pulled. We were both gagging and coughing uncontrollably.
“Hold onto me.”
She couldn’t do it. She lost consciousness in my arms.
Holding the baby in my right arm, dragging the woman with my left, and now pressing my right side against the wall, I shuffled on my knees in the other direction as fast as I could, taking shallow rasping breaths. My legs and arms strained, feeling weak and useless.
I turned the corner. Where was the window? I breathed in smoke, retching, craving oxygen. For a minute I thought I would fall forward. I’d always counted on my strength and coordination, but today they’d left me. The woman sagged against me, and I pulled her along as best I could with my left arm, her legs dragging behind me.
My hand reached the window, and in it was a firefighter, complete with helmet and breathing mask. The blue eyes inside the mask widened in astonishment just as I saw the name on the jacket: Hale.
“Walker?” Garret’s voice was incredulous.
“Here.” Gagging again, I handed the baby out the window. More flashes of fire behind me, as small angry flames found their way in.
Somehow Jason was there, too, on a second ladder. They took the woman next, and then it was my turn. Dark circles swam in front of my eyes. I gasped over and over for breath, wondering if I was going to die.
Zoey’s voice. Her gray eyes. Her hands reaching for me. I made a vow to myself. If I lived, I would get her back.
Garret and Jason were helping me out of the window.
“I can climb!” I tried to say. “By myself!” If only I could catch my breath.
Garret had a quick answer for me. “Shut up, Walker.”
“No, really….” The trees, Garret, and Jason whirled around me, and Zoey was there, too.
Then I was safely down at the bottom of the ladder, looking up as a massive tongue of flame filled the window and exploded out into the open air.
“That was a close one,” Jason noted.
“He needs oxygen,” someone said. A mask slipped over my nose, and strong hands lifted me, carrying me off. I lay on a stretcher on the ground near a group of ambulances and police cars. A paramedic was trying to hold the little boy, who was in full tantrum again. He certainly hadn’t lost the use of his lungs, from what I could hear.
I lay there, breathing, woozy.
Footsteps nearby, and then a voice above me. “Hey, I know this kid!”
I heard Garret’s voice and then the new one as I swam in and out of consciousness. The voice was saying, “… living in his car… said he was in your program….” It was that policeman who had pulled me over the first night.
Then Garret’s voice. “Holy shit…. Homeless?”
The little boy was still wailing.
“Oomph!” A small fist must have made contact.
Faces came and went, and then I was being lifted into an ambulance. “Everything’s all right,” someone said. It was the last thing I heard before the world went gray again, then black.
Lemon Jello
Even stranger than being alive was being in a bed again. The nurses fussed over me and brought me a double lunch of squishy ravioli and jello cubes. I threw myself on it like a hyena. “Can I get more?”
“I think that can be arranged.” This nice nurse, Eve, explained that I’d been brought in yesterday afternoon, and that the article in the Santa Alicia Herald had come out this morning. She showed it to me. The headline read, Homeless Youth Saves Family of Three in Fire. It gave my name and everything.
“We’ve had a bunch of visitors today, but you weren’t well enough to see them. Most of them have left. I’ve taken everyone’s names, though.”
I shifted uneasily in my hospital bed. “Could I see the list of visitors?”
“Sure. And your mother’s outside, by the way.”
“Mom’s here?” She must feel better if she’d come to visit me at the hospital.
“I’ll get her.”
Maggie supported her on one side, but still, Mom had pale spots of color in her face and an alive look in her eyes that I hadn’t seen for months.
“My baby boy!” Mom perched on the chair by my bed, leaking tears, which I tolerated because I was so glad to see her. “You’re a hero!”
I held out a hand to Mom and one to Maggie, and we engaged in a little wordless squeeze-fest. With the lump in my throat, I couldn’t talk anyway, right then.
“Travis, you were homeless? I couldn’t protect you!” Mom’s lips quivered. She’d cut off some of her hair and put on a nice dress, but her face had gone from lively just a minute ago to lined and tired.
“You’ve been sick, Mom. You couldn’t help it.”
“I have been sick. I’m a little better now.”
Maggie studied me, unsmiling. “None of the shelters on that list could help you? I feel terrible about what happened to you.”
I shook my head. “Don’t. You helped me. You took my mom in. That was huge for me.”
She was one of those women, I thought suddenly, whose beauty came from the inside. I thought of her as attractive, but it wasn’t her features I was seeing. It was her strong, kickass self.
Maggie made a face. “I could have referred you for free legal advice. A lawyer could have kept you in the apartment longer.”
“It’s okay, Maggie.”
She sighed, looking unconvinced. “Well, anyway, it’s been quite a couple of days. A lot of people have been by, wanting to talk to you.”
I wasn’t sure I liked that. “Who?”
“Your nurse left the list.” She held it out.
“So, you’ve all been here… talking to each other?” I took the list as if it might explode in my hands. Scanning it, I saw Perkins, Garret, Jason, a bunch of other names from the fire station, although not Brandon’s. Ms. Val, Benny. DJ. Some kids from Perdido High. A few names I’d never heard: Tad Worthington. Andrew Bishop. A woman just identified as Bianca S. Maybe they were reporters. But nowhere did I find the one name I most wanted to see.
I fell back against the pillows.
Eve came in. “Visiting hours are over. I’m going to be a bit of a grump and enforce this, I’m afraid.”
As Maggie’s hand gripped her elbow, Mom stood up and smoothed her skirt out. “We’ll come back tomorrow for you.” She sat back down, her face showing those deep lines again. “Or maybe j
ust Maggie will bring you home.”
“To The Haven,” Maggie clarified. “We’re jam packed, and I’m breaking rules right and left, but I’ve found a corner for you. You’ll stay there until we make other arrangements. And people can visit you there, if you want.”
Mom kissed my cheek. “I love you. I’m so glad you’re safe, honey!”
“Thanks. Love you too.” A happy, warm spot grew in my chest to think that I might get back the mother I’d known before life took a giant dump on our heads.
After they left, I checked the list again. “This is all?” I asked the nurse. “No one else has come by?”
“No.” Eve’s eyes were full of sympathy, as if she knew something. “Is there anyone you’d like to call?” She hesitated. “You mentioned … a name, a few times actually, before you woke up.”
“No. Thanks.” The list fell out of my hand and fluttered into a corner and out of sight.
##
It didn’t seem possible that I had a cot of my own on The Haven’s enclosed back porch, a steady paycheck, and nothing to worry about. I had reclaimed my car and belongings from the tow lot. Perdido Lumber took me back, the jerkwad manager deciding to cut me some slack for missing a few days due to smoke inhalation. Employing a hero was good for business. I kept checking my messages, just in case Zoey had seen the article and decided to call. She didn’t, although everybody else did.
DJ visited. “Man, why didn’t you call me?”
“I’d already borrowed too much.”
“Are you kidding? I would have helped you.”
I didn’t want everyone to know I was a loser. “I just didn’t want to tell people.”
DJ snorted in disgust, but let it go. We talked women and school until he left.
Benny came by, flanked on both sides by irate women—Ms. Val and “my wife, Bianca,” he said morosely. So, she was the Bianca S. on the list.
Bianca had her sister’s taste in bright colors. They were rocking shades of orange and magenta today, while Benny sat glumly in his work clothes and baseball cap. We were jammed into the small sofas in The Haven’s little sitting room.
“Remember the GED. January 10!” Ms. Val said.
“I will.”
“Travis, man, how was I suppose’ to know you really clear a woman shelter lot?” Benny sighed deeply. Ms. Val and her sister had given him hell for firing me.
“It’s okay. I got another job now.”
“Tiny and Rammer, they come to the hospital.”
“I didn’t see them on the list.”
“They sign.”
Later I checked the list again. There were only two names unaccounted for. Tad Worthington and Andrew Bishop were Tiny and Rammer? I had to laugh, so I wouldn’t cry.
Why had those two come to visit, when Zoey hadn’t?
Redemption
“Travis, it’s Chief Perkins. How you doing?”
“Fine, sir.” My mind went on instant alert. Why was he calling?
“Would you be able to come by the firehouse on Saturday morning at eleven o’clock? I’d really like to talk to you.”
Eleven o’clock? That was right in the middle of Discoverers. “Sure, I’ll be there.” I wouldn’t miss it.
I showed up that morning, nervous but excited. This had to be a good thing, right? He hadn’t called to yell at me again, had he?
Garret was with Perkins in his office, Perkins looking serious and determined, Garret smug and pleased with himself. Maybe they were going to diss me all over again. I raised a hand to them both, then sat down, trying to find a comfortable place on the hard chair.
Sitting at his desk, Perkins cleared his throat. His dark hair and mustache were longer, his hair waving back off his forehead like in an old-fashioned photograph. “Good to see you, Travis. In light of recent events, and due to the discovery of … uh … some new information, I’ve been able to make a few changes.” He nodded to Garret, who strutted forward.
“Recently the subject of eligibility for the Discoverers program has come under discussion.” Garret stopped for dramatic effect. “So I took it upon myself to read that section of the Procedural Guide in full.” He pulled out his phone with a flourish. “And I quote.”
“Cut to the chase, Garret,” Perkins growled.
“Rule number 79.1 states that to be eligible for Discoverers, a candidate must be “enrolled in high school.”
I stared at the floor. We all knew that.
“However,” he went on, “Footnote 1 of the rule says the candidate is also eligible if he is engaged in an equivalent activity.” His chest puffed up as he strolled back and forth, looking as if he had a whole audience of blue uniforms and not just me and Perkins.
“So the question becomes…” he waved his phone, “..,.what constitutes an equivalent activity?”
A sigh, but no comment, from Perkins. He was probably biting his tongue, letting Garret have his moment.
“Per Footnote 2, equivalent activity is defined as home schooling OR enrollment to take the GED within a six month period.”
I sat up straight, unable to believe my ears.
“Chief Perkins, would you like to continue?”
“Yes, thank you, Garret. So, Travis, when your counselor Ms. Valenzuela told us last week at the hospital that you were taking the GED in January, and Garret discovered this wrinkle in the rules, I was able to reinstate you into the Discoverers program as if you’d never been gone. Your brief… absence will not be reflected on your record.”
He held out his hand. “Congratulations, Travis. Nothing makes me happier than being able to get you back in here. And we owe Garret for this one.” Perkins turned to him. “Nicely done, Hale!”
“Thank you, sir.” Garret’s grin was so wide you could have hooked the ends over his ears, like a pair of glasses.
I shook both their hands. “This is amazing. I’m really glad to be back.”
It was a great moment, but I couldn’t quite believe Garret had done this for me. “Thank you,” I said to him, trying not to sound surprised.
“New guys always go through a little… breaking in,” he said. “You got your share of that.”
Yes, I had. It didn’t matter anymore. I was back in the Discoverers.
“You’re damn good, Walker,” Garret went on. “You saved that whole family. How’d you get the kid down that worthless ladder? It took two people to get him into the ambulance.”
“I told him a joke,” I said, while Garret barked out a laugh.
“There’s something else. This way.” Perkins’s eyes twinkled as he motioned us to follow him.
Lined up in neat rows in the training yard were the firefighters of Santa Alicia along with the entire Discoverers group. And my mom, Maggie, and Ms. Val. As I walked in they all burst into applause.
I found myself searching for a pair of gray eyes. She had to know what had happened. She must really hate me to keep staying away like this.
Perkins put out a hand for silence. “It’s my great pleasure to call you here today and present Travis with the department’s Certificate of Heroism, which is given to citizens who have displayed extraordinary valor and courage in a time of crisis.” He handed me the certificate. “Travis, I hope you’ll consider taking the Firefighter’s Exam and joining us. You’d be a distinguished addition to our station.”
I took the certificate, not trusting my voice to answer him. People pushed toward me, shaking my hand and congratulating me.
“Mrs. Walker, you must be very proud of your son today,” Chief Perkins said. “He’s a hero!”
Mom’s face had deep lines, but her blue eyes sparkled as she tucked her hand into my elbow. “Travis has been my hero for a long time. He kept me alive this year, while I’ve been sick and out of work.”
I patted her hand. “Mom. It wasn’t anything.”
“It was. It was everything.” She leaned her head on my shoulder while I rolled my eyes at Perkins.
It felt good to get a few strokes, though.
Pride ballooned up in my chest, and thankfulness and hope for the future. I was really lucky.
And yet my eyes still scanned the crowd for Zoey’s, as I kept alive the small hope that she still gave a shit about me. That small hope was dying fast.
Love
Whenever I drove through Perdido or Santa Alicia—that is, every day—I scoped out heads in passing cars and on the sidewalks, looking for shades of platinum. I didn’t want to call her when she obviously wanted to stay the hell away from me. Occasionally, I’d get a jolt of excitement when an especially promising flash of blonde caught my eye, but it was never her.
That is, until I drove by Perdido Park on a Saturday afternoon and saw a shining ponytail. I pulled over, thinking what a waste of time, then found myself watching the girl I loved running across a lawn, throwing a Frisbee to a little boy. My lovesick eyes saw her in slow motion, her legs stretching out as she ran, her body twisting into the throw, a flash of white teeth as she laughed out loud.
The kid, a skinny boy with stick-straight blond hair, missed the Frisbee, ran to pick it up, and tossed off a wild throw that went sideways instead of forward. Right towards me, in fact.
Putting up an arm, I scooped the Frisbee out of the air.
“Throw it here!” the kid yelled. I skimmed it just over his raised hands. Meaning he had to run after it, which was what I wanted.
Zoey stood there, her arms hanging at her sides. Our eyes met like a head-on collision of emotions: love, anger, loss, passion, and probably a bunch more that I couldn’t name. We looked at each other for a long moment.
She was taking in quick, shallow little breaths. “I couldn’t bear to come see you,” she said. “I couldn’t handle it.”
I felt like I’d been sucker punched. I didn’t know what to say.
Her eyes swept over me, searching. “You look good. Thin, though.”
“I’ve gained some weight. I was on the Dumpster Diet for a while.”
Pain settled around her eyes and mouth. “I hate that you had to suffer like that.”
“Zoey?” Now there were three of them. Small boys with sunburned noses, wiggling like puppies around her ankles. They gawked at me.
