The Heat of Angels

by Lisa Girolami

  “Well, I didn’t get arrested.”

  “I know. That’s what I said.” The intensity in Chris’s voice decreased. “My life is orderly, Sarah. My world is about good and bad. I live within limits that make sense to me. When I was a kid, my parents ran the house military style. It was up at five thirty and off to school by six forty-five. They hammered the difference between right and wrong into me. That’s what I’m used to.”

  While part of Sarah understood that Chris was trying to explain herself, the rest of her took each and every word as an attack. At the very least, it was a criticism. She wanted to lash out, to tell Chris no one was perfect, and that included cops.

  Don’t, she said to herself. Don’t ruin this like you always do. Just say something without throwing all the kitchen knives along with it.

  “Extremes are suffocating.”

  Chris paused as if her face had just been splashed with droplets of water. “Yeah, that’s true, I suppose. But rules provide order. When things are black and white, it’s so much less complicated.”

  “Maybe in your world. Maybe that made you the prize child in the family.”

  “I’m far from the prize child, Sarah.”

  “That makes two of us,” Sarah said, her soft underbelly still exposed. “But I’m not stodgy, which is something my parents wanted me to be. I choose to be spontaneous and not worry about what people think.”

  “I’m not against being spontaneous. But you can find ways to do it sensibly. Causing the police to come out to a party when they could be answering an important call isn’t the highest measure of responsibility.”

  Sarah felt an armadillo-like shell forming around her. Yet again, she was a fuck-up. And the foulest part of it was that Chris wasn’t all that far off the mark.

  “Look,” Chris said, “let’s get out of here. Let’s just go somewhere else and make this night great.”

  Sarah had no idea how to turn this around. “Yeah, well, I’m tired. I think I’d like you to take me home and call it a night.”

  She looked at the ground, unable to witness how Chris would react to her words. After a moment, Sarah heard her say, “Are you sure?”

  She did the only thing she was good at. Lifting her head, she smiled as unaffectedly as she could, erasing any opportunity to continue the dialogue, and reached out for Chris. “Yeah, come on, it’s late.”

  Chapter Eight

  Thursday moved slowly for Chris. The calls came back to back until three that afternoon. She went back to the station to finish her paperwork and found Cates and a few others in the break room, watching television.

  “What’s up?” she said as she stepped in.

  “All but one fire is out,” Cates said as he jerked his head toward the TV.

  A helicopter was broadcasting images of the Angeles Crest fire.

  “…Los Angeles Fire Department called the fire aggressive, stating that it was moving quickly. Four more fire engines have been dispatched to the scene that’s reported to be thirty percent contained. Five structures have been destroyed in this remote area since Tuesday. At a news conference yesterday, Governor Brown said that the state’s budget crisis would not affect efforts to fight the fire and that the blaze presented a great challenge.”

  Moving quickly and a great challenge, Chris thought. That sounds exactly like Sarah and me. Still bothered by the night before, the conversation they’d had continued to skulk around the edges of her brain, the words curdling like a bad jug of milk.

  Maybe she’d overreacted. People acted crazy all the time. It wasn’t like Sarah got hauled in and booked. And the incident didn’t reflect on Chris herself. Sure, she’d made it a point to stay away from bad apples. She’d abandoned a few friends because associating with them might harm her position on the force. Long gone were her days of hanging around even the fringes of drug users and stupid behavior. Admittedly, she’d gone to an extreme to keep those people well out of her life. It was important, especially when she’d just joined the police department, to notice trouble from a far distance and stay away. And it had been an easy lifestyle to maintain.

  But Sarah didn’t really fall into that category, did she?

  Again, she didn’t have many answers because she didn’t know that much about her. It still amazed her that she’d allowed herself to fall in bed with Sarah so soon.

  Blinking red lights meant stop. That was the most basic law of motor vehicles. Drivers move forward until they encounter a red blinking light. At that point, they stop to avoid a hazard.

  Blinking red lights surrounded Sarah.

  The news footage continued to cover the fires, and her fellow officers were talking about the firemen they knew who were probably out there in the midst of it.

  Moving quickly and a great challenge, the reporter said. With red lights blinking.

  It sounded like a collision course to her.

  *

  Sasha sat as close to Sarah as she could. It was their special time, and Sasha had galloped over as soon as she saw Sarah walking up with a paper bag.

  She was now enjoying a frozen pop, made with cherry juice and raisins, a treat the refuge would allow the Guinea baboons, especially during periods of unusual heat.

  As Sasha turned the pop around and around, slurping and sucking her dessert, Sarah made conversation.

  “I know you know what it’s like to be so different from your own kind. You were away for so long, and when you returned, you were an outsider and no one could understand what you’d been through.”

  Sasha suddenly stopped slurping and lifted her head, stretching it toward the sky. Her nostrils flared and she sniffed rather loudly.

  “It’s the smoke,” Sarah said. “It’s all over L.A.”

  She pulled at some weeds that coiled their way around the base of a fence post.

  “Chris must think I’m some kind of alien as well. Last night, she looked at me like I’d just murdered the pope. I mean, I’m not saying it was smart to cause the police to come to the party, but we were all just messing around.”

  With lips now starting to turn red, Sasha looked up at her curiously.

  “That lipstick makes you look rather fetching, you furry old lady.”

  Deadpan, the baboon turned her focus back to the fruit pop.

  “Chris has a point. I’m thirty-one, and I suppose I shouldn’t be singing from a rooftop. At least not through a massive sound system.”

  Having finished her treat, Sasha chewed on the stick, looking cross-eyed as she stared at it. Sarah opened the bag and pulled out three large carrots with bushy green tops. Sasha immediately dropped the stick.

  “Here you go,” Sarah said, handing them through the fence.

  As Sasha crunched away, Sarah continued to pull weeds.

  “I guess it’s not too much to ask that I don’t cause that kind of ruckus anymore. But I don’t want to turn into a prude. Life’s meant to be enjoyed, isn’t it? I mean, shit, if I wanted to be picture-perfect, I have two of the best role models around. But I’ll rot in hell before I start acting like my parents.”

  She let out a sarcastic snort. “The fucked-up thing about it is my parents live a complete sham. At least Chris seems to live what she believes. God, I like her, Sasha,” she said. “I just want to see her again.”

  Sasha fixated on the carrots, only looking up when Sarah crumpled up the bag. That got Tessa and Pudge’s attention. They came loping up behind Sasha, but the older lady was ready. She turned around and let out a combination bark and screech. The two younger ones stopped immediately and sat down. They didn’t seem interested in retreating but cautiously watched the furry old lady with envious curiosity.

  A horn bellowed from the administration office and all four of them jumped.

  “Oh, shit.” Sarah jumped to her feet and took off running as fast as she could.

  Madeleine was outside the main door when Sarah and about ten others rushed up. Allan stood next to her, reaching over to clasp her shoulder.

  �
�We have to start evacuating. The fire is moving this way. We need to get the large animals out first. Sam and Rusty, get on the phone and call all the other volunteers. Willy, call the truck drivers from the list on my bulletin board. Their trucks are here in the parking lot, but ask if they can bring other drivers and use their personal cars and trucks to transport smaller animals. We’ll take anything we can get.”

  The three men sprinted inside the office.

  Adrenaline surged through Sarah. Though no one else was moving yet, images of running and chaos and animal shrieks clouded her vision. She saw the fire as a hurricane of flames engulfing the entire complex. Her heart pounded wildly as she pictured the frightened and distressed faces of hundreds of animals.

  Please don’t let it get bad, she prayed, please, please.

  She heard her name.

  “Yes, what?”

  “Sarah, the cages are stacked together at the west end of the parking lot. Start pulling the cages apart and move the smaller ones to the enclosures. Then you and Allan begin loading them. You know which animals can go together in a cage. Keep them there, and when the large animals are loaded, we can move the smaller ones down to the lot.”

  The sound of Allan slapping her arm was like a starter’s gun, propelling them in a dead run toward the parking lot.

  “Oh, shit, let’s start with the deer and her twin fawns,” Allan said as they ran.

  Sarah tried to respond but terror jammed her throat.

  *

  Chris turned to leave the break room when one word of the reporters’ commentary punched her in the ears.

  “…refuge…”

  She spun around and listened as the camera was now showing the studio announcers, who clutched papers at their desk, earnestly leaning forward.

  “…the evacuation call came shortly after three thirty p.m. Let’s try to get a report on exactly how close the fire is to Angeles Crest Animal Refuge…”

  Cates turned to Chris. “Isn’t that where your girlfriend works?”

  Before she could answer, all their radios announced, “L.A. Fire needs multiple units, code three, for emergency evacuation at Angeles Crest Animal Refuge…”

  She grabbed her microphone and held the button down. “Frank K-9 en route.”

  Cates got up from his chair and keyed his button. “Three Lincoln Seven Seven en route.”

  Chris was already down the hall, Cates right behind her, when, grateful, she heard the fall of dominoes as each of the other officers responded similarly.

  *

  Sarah squinted as the acidic, sickly sweet wood smoke burned her eyes. The increasing heat had her soaked in sweat, which also ran into her eyes, but she couldn’t slow down. Allan rolled a crate containing a wolf toward the parking lot as Sarah maneuvered another crated wolf right behind him. Ash flakes fluttered to the ground like a hideous gray snowstorm. She kept glancing toward the hills and was relieved when she didn’t see any flames, but the intensifying wind foretold an ominous fact. The wildfire was getting way too fucking close, way too fast.

  They reached the parking lot where a fire engine was unloading hoses. Two engines had already made their way down the frontage road to the north end of the complex to set up a perimeter.

  Other volunteers helped Sarah and Allan load the wolves into two large vans. Many trucks had already left more than twice, heading toward local zoos, fairgrounds, and stables. Some had returned and were being loaded again.

  Sarah guessed that at least eighty people had arrived, helping in whatever way they could. Some people came out of the vet quarters, carrying towel-wrapped animals and birds, while others led more docile creatures by lead ropes. Most of the large animals were already gone, but they still had numerous others to evacuate. Thankfully, most were the smallest animals in cages, ready to carry to vehicles.

  Madeleine, bullhorn to her mouth, barked orders that were immediately followed as people peeled off in various directions. The organized pandemonium worked remarkably well, but they were still dangerously behind. A guy named Pete, who had just started volunteering a week ago, followed Madeleine around, calling out fire updates as he scrutinized his iPhone.

  Sarah and Allan ran up to Madeleine and waited while she gave orders to four others.

  “You two round up the last of the foxes,” Madeline said, holding her hat down on her head as the winds started picking up. “They have to go one in a cage. And when you’re done, get on the phone. We need more help!” She turned to another pair. “Are the chimps gone?”

  One of them nodded.

  “Then help Shelley and Connie in the reptile building. The snakes can go in burlap sacks if you don’t have enough terrariums.”

  Dutifully, they ran off into the now-russet haze of the gusty parking lot. Madeleine took her hat off and stuffed it into her pocket. She turned toward Sarah and Allan with a look so stressed and tired, Sarah thought she might collapse.

  “We really need help,” she said to the both of them.

  “Are Sasha and the rest out?”

  “No, not yet. We’ve run out of cages.”

  Panic rose in her chest. “Madeline, what can we do for them?” Her bond with the furry old lady was stronger than any animal or person there. Anyone in her life, actually.

  “Maybe we can call…” Madeleine stopped suddenly and cocked her head toward the refuge entrance. Sarah heard it at the same time. Sirens howled, and soon red and blue lights cut through the smoke as eight squad cars screamed into the parking lot.

  “Chris,” Sarah said out loud, and ran toward them.

  Chris jumped out of her car and caught Sarah in her arms. “Are you okay? What do you need?”

  Before Sarah could answer, Madeleine was right behind her. “We need transport help. But we’re out of cages for the baboons.”

  Chris jerked her thumb backward. “All these squad cars have caged backseats.”

  “They could shit, you know.”

  “So do the criminals.”

  Madeline paused long enough to say, “Sarah, Allan, you two handle this, please. Thank you, all of you,” and she sprinted away, hollering into her bullhorn.

  Chris turned to wave her buddies over, and Sarah reached for her other arm. “Thank you.”

  “No worries. We’re here to help.”

  Sarah kissed her quickly and said to the officers, “Follow us.”

  In minutes, all the cars were lined up at the baboon enclosure. A seasoned refuge handler had each car pull all the way up to the gate, and one by one, he caught the baboons and quickly led each of them to a car. Bananas helped distract them, and within twenty minutes, all but Sasha, who had avoided the roundup, were ready for transport.

  Chris moved Abel to the front seat and pulled her car up to the gate. Sasha avoided the handler, screeching when he got close. After a few tries, Sarah called out to Chris.

  “Do you have a bag in your car?”

  Chris jumped out and opened the trunk. Moving equipment aside, she pulled out a paper bag, emptied it of dog treats, and ran it over to her.

  Sarah pressed her face into the fence, rumpled the bag loudly, and called out.

  “Sasha, Sasha, here.” She waved the bag, hitting it with a banana to make more noise.

  Sasha hesitated, looking between Sarah and the handler who was moving up behind her.

  “Sasha,” she called again.

  Making her choice, Sasha trotted over to the fence and, when she got close, Sarah threw the bag into the backseat.

  Sasha climbed in to grab the bag and tried to jump out, but the trainer was right behind her, quickly closing the door.

  “That’s all of them,” he said.

  “Let’s get back to the parking lot. Madeleine will tell you where to take them.”

  “Los Olivos Farm has room for the baboons,” Madeleine told the officers. “They’re in North Hollywood, off Tujunga on the 118 freeway. They’re waiting for you.”

  “I know where it is,” Chris said.

  “You’
re all angels,” Madeleine told them, holding her hand to her heart.

  Cates nodded. “This will, by far, be the most interesting ride of the day.”

  Perkins, the rookie that Chris and Abel had assisted when Cates called in the fight with the huge man, said, “At least we won’t have to search these guys.”

  The officers got in their cars and Sarah walked Chris to hers.

  Abel barked constantly, not understanding why someone else was in his kennel. Sasha shrieked back, but they both seemed more interested in badgering each other than in fighting.

  Chris got in her car. “That’s going to give me a headache,”

  “You have no idea how much this means to me,” Sarah said, bending toward the window. “And I’m sorry about the other night.”

  “Me, too. Hey, let’s just get everyone safe and we can talk later, okay?”

  Sarah nodded, allowing the relief she felt in the moment to cut through the tension that had all but consumed her.

  “You gotta get out of here, too, Sarah.”

  “I will. We’re not done yet, and I have to stay until all the animals are out.”

  “I know you do.” Chris reached up and touched her cheek.

  Sarah leaned in and they kissed.

  “Be safe,” Chris said. “I’ll come back as soon as I drop Sasha off.”

  Sarah stepped back and Chris got on the radio. “Code three, fellow baboon warriors.”

  With lights and sirens blazing and blaring, the caravan of squad cars left, and Sarah felt a moving current of desire wash through her like the vortex of a whirlpool, sucking her down to a place she would willingly go.

  *

  It was dark by the time Chris returned to the refuge. Three fire engines were in the parking lot, and the firefighters were resting on and around the trucks. That was a good sign, Chris thought.

  She pulled up next to them and Abel began barking. Telling him to quiet down, she got out of her car.

  “What’s the status?” she asked one of the firemen.