Raging Inferno

by Janine Infante Bosco

  If looks could kill, this girl would bury me six feet deep.

  “Did you know today is the first day in over a week my sister has gone to work? She’s been sick to her stomach over what you did to her.”

  “I don’t know anything because she won’t fucking talk to me.”

  “Do you blame her?” she admonishes. “Everything out of your mouth is a fucking lie. Who would want to talk to you?”

  Crossing my arms against my chest, I bite the inside of my cheek and check my self-control as I lift an eyebrow.

  “Yet, here you are…talking to me.”

  “Make no mistake about it, Casale, I want to break your nose too.”

  “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

  “You really are a dick.”

  “No, I’m not,” I reply, unfolding my arms. “I’m a man who made a mistake. Look, Amber, I never meant to hurt your sister and not everything out of my mouth was a lie. When I said I wanted her, I meant it…just like I meant it when I told her I loved her. This shit with me knowing Chris—yeah, it was wrong of me to lie but, what do you think would’ve happened if I told her the truth?”

  She doesn’t reply, and I take advantage of the situation.

  “You saw how fucking nervous she was about letting another man in her life. For fuck’s sake you got her drunk, so she would have the courage to make it through a simple dinner with me.”

  “You make it sound like I poured the alcohol down her throat,” she mutters.

  “You supplied it,” I counter quickly. “You knew she wouldn’t go through with the date, that she was perfectly content existing.”

  “She deserved more.”

  “She still does, and I swear to you, on my children, I want to give her everything she deserves. I want to put a smile on her face every day I’m alive. I want to fucking love her like she should be loved. If I told her I was the guy who pulled Chris out of those towers, she would’ve got stuck on that and she would’ve never given me the chance to pull her out of her grief. She wouldn’t remember what it feels like to be alive and not stuck on pause, in the back of a church, waiting for a groom that will never show.”

  Brushing her fingers through her hair, she quietly looks away for a moment. The silence stretches, and I contemplate going any further with my argument before she turns back to me and shakes her head.

  “I don’t know if I’m a fool to believe you or if you’re just that convincing.”

  “I’m not lying to you,” I say hoarsely. “And to be fair, I never lied about knowing Chris. I omitted the truth.”

  “It’s the same fucking thing.”

  “Help me,” I demand. “Tell me what to do,” I say. “I promise you, you won’t regret it. If she just hears me out, I can make this right between us.”

  I watch as she draws her lower lip between her teeth and contemplates my plea.

  “You went by her house?”

  “Several times, all when I knew Christopher would be sleeping.”

  “She’s my sister, Jimmy. I can’t betray her and set something up. If she really decides she wants nothing to do with you, she’ll never forgive me for that and I’m all she has. I won’t let that happen.”

  “I’m not suggesting that. Have you talked to her? Maybe ask her—”

  “Of course, I’ve talked to her. She wants to break your nose too,” she says with the cock of her head. “But if you showed up at the school, she wouldn’t start a scene. She’d never do that at work. That might be your best shot.”

  At this rate, it seems like it’s the only shot. I glance down at my watch, noting it’s nearly one. I don’t get off for another hour, but she works until three and if I hustle to the other side of the island, I’ll make it just time.

  “Jimmy,” Amber calls, forcing my attention back to her. “If you tell I suggested this, I swear to God, I’ll fucking cut your tongue and your balls off, I’ll gift wrap them and everything.”

  Before I can assure her that I won’t say anything to Melissa and dig my hole any deeper with her, Frankie steps up and saves the day.

  “Marry me,” he blurts.

  Only a sadistic fuck would be turned on by a woman who just threatened to cut another man’s balls off. Amber gives him the side eye and snatches the bat from his hands.

  “Dream on, fireman,” she says, slapping the neck of the bat against her palm. “Only a fool would get married in this day and age.”

  “Is that a dare?” Frankie questions.

  “What’s wrong with you people?” she relays, glancing between me and him. “You’ve inhaled too much carbon monoxide in the line of duty.”

  As the words leave her mouth, the alarm rings and her eyes go wide as the rest of the house comes running towards the rig, hurrying to put on their bunker gear.

  “Shit,” I hiss, glancing over my shoulder as Gary calls my name and tosses me my gear. Catching my coat, pants, and helmet, I turn back to Amber. “I’ve got to go,” I tell her, dropping my stuff in front of me. Quickly, I start to pull my gear over my sweats. “I’ll fix this,” I promise. “Right after this, I’ll go straight to the school.”

  Her eyes dart all around as the guys start filling the rig. Gary jumps behind the wheel and fires up the engine, the sirens blare decorating the room in shades of red and blue. As I fit my helmet to my head, I stare at Amber—if I knew a call coming in would shut her up, I would’ve conducted a fire drill the minute she threatened to do away with my nuts.

  “I’ll see ya,” I say.

  “Be careful,” she replies. “The last thing I want to do is tell her you died too.”

  Rolling my eyes, I start for the truck.

  It’s gonna take a lot more than a fire to tear me away from Melissa.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The Next Tragic Story

  For the first time in over a week, I felt like half a human. Mainly because I forced myself to get dressed and go to work. The teenage angst floating through the halls of a high school was just the medicine I needed to distract me from the shit show my life had become. Any day now, Lifetime Movie Network would be calling me for the rights to my story. It will be the next tragic story to hit cable.

  Until then, I’ll just continue avoiding Jimmy and pretend like everything is great in front of Christopher. I’m going to need to come up with a plan for when I see Gabby in school, though, because dodging into the janitor closet isn’t very professional. Not to mention I didn’t do such a great job of avoiding her. The closet escapade only got me so far and by sixth period Jimmy’s little protégé entered my office, playing it off as though she wanted to go over her grades. I guess the apple didn’t fall far from that tree.

  That’s horrible to say.

  It’s not her fault, her father is a liar.

  Gabby’s a great kid. Sure, it was a bumpy start, but she really pulled herself together and now, her grades are excellent and her attendance perfect. There is no doubt in my mind that girl is going to walk with her class this June and as much as I’d like to see her graduate, I don’t want to see her father’s proud smile in fear I won’t recover.

  Like Gabby, Jimmy has a fantastic smile. They’re both charming and if one isn’t careful, they will get sucked in by their charismatic ways. That theory was proven when Gabby stood to leave my office and paused, asking if I wouldn’t mind giving her a ride home from school. She quickly added her father was working, and she had to finish an assignment before heading to night school, claiming she wouldn’t have time if she took the bus home.

  It was obvious she knew her father, and I weren’t speaking by the subtle hints she dropped here and there along the ride to her house. Whether she knew the details behind our uncoupling, I couldn’t be sure but she made it a point to tell me how miserable her father was over the last week.

  Thankfully, she wasn’t lying about her father working. When I dropped her off, there was no trace of Jimmy anywhere. I expected to feel relieved and was shocked by the ping of longing that stirred in my gut.
I missed him.

  Lies and all, I missed the man who made me laugh. The man who was content watching a movie with me on the couch as long as it meant he could hold my hand. The man who liked to dazzle me with his cooking abilities and promised to teach me how to make cannoli’s from scratch. The man who made it okay to want a future, the one who rid me of my grief and taught me there is more to life than being stuck in the past.

  The man who broke my heart.

  I missed that man.

  The doorbell rings, dragging me away from my mind and I glance down at the vegetables neatly lined on the cutting board that I haven’t so much as touched. Wiping my hands on the dishtowel, I decide working and cooking dinner was a little ambitious for a woman who spent the last week crying in bed until it was time to pick her son up from school.

  Tossing the dishtowel onto the counter, I pad out of the kitchen and into the living room. As I make my way towards the door, I pause and smile at Christopher who is playing on the floor watching an episode of Paw Patrol I recorded on the DVR.

  “Hey, buddy,” I call out. “Instead of tacos, how do you feel about pizza for dinner?”

  “Can we get pepperoni?” he asks, keeping his eyes on the two figures in his hands.

  “Whatever you want, baby,” I reply, reaching the door. With a sigh, I glance through the side window to check who it is. Pulling it open, I greet my chipper sister.

  I swear the girl doesn’t have a care in the world and I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not. Who's to say her carefree lifestyle is any better than my troubled one. At least she seems happy—that’s a lot more than I can say about myself.

  “There’s my beautiful sister,” she says, pushing her way inside my home. “And, where’s my favorite nephew?”

  “Aunt Amber!” Chris boasts, tossing his toys on the floor as he scrambles to his feet and runs into her arms. At his happiness, a small smile plays on my list. When everything feels so hopeless, there is always his smile that makes things better.

  “I didn’t know you were coming by,” I say, watching as Amber lifts Christopher into her arms. Spinning around to face me she gives me a cheeky smile.

  “I thought I’d swing by and see how your first day back to work went,” she says.

  “It was like any other day,” I reply, reaching for my phone. Pulling up the pizza delivery app, I start to order a pizza and some veggie wrap for Amber—this week she’s a vegetarian. Next week she’ll be at the butcher ordering a whole cow.

  “Nothing happened?”

  “Was something supposed to happen?” I counter, looking at her. Wearing a somewhat perplexed expression, I can’t tell if she’s genuinely confused or if she’s angry. “Oh, I did take Gabby home after school.”

  “Ahah! So, you saw Jimmy then.”

  “No,” I say, pocketing my phone. “What’s going on with you?”

  Without answering me, I watch her turn her attention to Christopher and gently lower him onto his feet.

  “Why don’t you go get a game from your room and I’ll play with you?” she tells him, making it clear whatever she has to tell me, I’m either not going to appreciate or is not appropriate for little ears.

  Loving the attention, Christopher runs off to fetch a game him and his aunt can play. Once he’s out of sight, Amber reluctantly turns to me and mutters a curse.

  “I may have done something stupid,” she starts.

  Just as I’m about to roll my eyes, I catch sight of the television and I freeze. The DVR recording must’ve ended because it was now broadcasting the news and a horrible fire that spread across five homes. Glancing down at the ticker rolling on the bottom of the screen, I realize it happened on Staten Island. That knowledge alone has me brushing past Amber and reaching for the remote. Raising the volume, I stare at the screen, as the cameraman spans across the street showing the dozens of firetrucks blocking traffic. I scan the trucks, squinting to read the ladder and engine numbers.

  “Holy shit,” Amber says from beside to me.

  “Shh!” I demand as the news reporter continues to speak.

  Once again, this Rosanna Torres reporting from the New Springville section of Staten Island, where the FDNY has been battling a five-alarm fire for three hours. Several firefighters have been injured and three are trapped inside trying to rescue a little boy who allegedly started the fire. We do not have the names of those firemen at the time.

  “Melissa?”

  My eyes snap to my sister and I force myself to breathe.

  “What if it’s him?” I rasp. “Oh my God, Amber, what if Jimmy is one of those men?”

  What if this is another piece of the tragic story?

  Chapter Nineteen

  A Fallen Hero

  “It’s going to blow!” The chief declares, causing me to stare up at the five houses about to explode. Not a half hour ago, three of our guys were trapped inside one of those homes. We got them and the boy out just before the captain ordered everyone out. Now, we all sit here, assaulted by the flames, watching solemnly as the beams buckle and the roof starts to cave in.

  Tearing the oxygen mask from my face, I force myself to stand on shaky legs and stare at the cloud of black smoke billowing in angry waves above the fire.

  “Miss, you need to step back,” the captain orders. “Everyone needs to back away.”

  “Casale, put the damn mask back on your face,” Gary growls, coughing himself as he stares up at the smoke. “We did all we could. At lease we got everyone out alive.”

  My throat constricts, and I try to drag in a deep breath, but my lungs are too bruised from inhaling smoke for three hours straight, causing me to cough uncontrollably. Gary pounds a fist against my back but it does nothing to unclog the airways and I continue to choke.

  “You need to get to the fucking hospital,” he growls. With his arm draped around my shoulders, he grabs the oxygen mask and pushes it over my face before calling out for medical attention.

  Waving him off, I try to catch my breath. I tell myself, I’m a fucking pro at this shit and remind myself it isn’t the first time I’ve had smoke fill these lungs. But it is the first time in seventeen years, I can’t get it under control.

  My chest starts to ache at the strain of my failing lungs and for the first time in my career, I’m nervous. In seventeen years, I’ve found myself in some dire situations and like a cat has nine lives, I started to believe I did as well.

  Never did my life flash before my eyes.

  Never did I wish I would’ve called out of work.

  Never did I wish I would’ve called my daughters before I jumped on a rig.

  And never did a woman’s face haunt me.

  The bitter pill of regret leaves a bad taste in my mouth and forces me to close my eyes and pray.

  “Shit, Jimmy, you don’t look good. I need medical attention over here!!” Gary shouts but his voice is a dull whisper compared to the other voice I hear screaming my name desperately.

  “JIMMY!”

  Knowing my mind is either playing tricks on me or this really is the end of the line for me, I peel the mask away from my face and grab my knees as I struggle to draw in a breath. I hear my name again and force my eyes to focus. Following the sound of a female voice crying out for me, I turn my head and see her standing behind the caution tape, struggling against a police officer.

  Her eyes lock with mine and her arms flail as she pushes against the cop. Charging underneath the caution tape, she starts running towards me.

  “Jimmy!”

  “Melissa,” I rasp.

  Struggling to memorize her features, my eyelids become heavy before everything fades to black.

  Her.

  Me.

  Us.

  Another fallen hero.

  Chapter Twenty

  Prayers and Apologies

  After seeing the news and not knowing if Jimmy was affected by the fire, I lost it. There was no masquerading behind a fake smile for the sake of my son, I couldn’t control the f
ear consuming me and all I kept thinking was that if it was him if he was one of the men trapped, I wasted the last ten days being angry with the man I loved.

  That old saying, never go to bed mad—I get it now.

  If anyone knows that life is too short, it's me. One minute you're standing in a church ready to take another mans name, the next you're identifying his body and picking out a casket. One minute you're staring at your sister wondering what she’s up to, the next you're staring at a television, fearing the last piece of your heart is burning to death.

  Without giving it much thought, I listened to my heart and told Amber to stay with Christopher. The fire was by the Barnes and Noble on Richmond Ave and it took me twenty-five minutes to get there because this godforsaken island is as congested as fuck. Arriving at the scene, I realized I didn’t think this through very much. For three blocks, Richmond Ave was completely shut down by a sea of firetrucks. There had to be at least two-hundred firemen swarming the streets and the odds of me finding Jimmy were slim to none. Still, if I was there, I might be able to find out if he was one of the three trapped.

  I abandoned my car at a red light and ran towards the burning houses. Barging through the crowd of civilians and reporters, I got as close as physically possible before a policeman pushed me back from the caution tape and told me it wasn’t safe.

  That’s when I looked at the burning buildings and begged the cop to tell me if they were able to get the three men out of the houses. Before he could answer, I heard some order for everyone to get back, that the houses were going to blow.

  A series of tiny explosions sounded and sure enough, the houses started to go down. It was too hard to watch, and I turned away. As the houses hit the ground, my eyes found Jimmy’s and my heart stopped beating inside my chest.

  Covered in black soot, he was hunched over with an oxygen mask on his face. At that moment, no lie, cop, or caution tape could keep me from him. I pushed the cop out of my way and ducked under the yellow tape standing between me and Jimmy. I shouted for him and watched him tear his mask from his face. Our eyes connected, and I held his stare as I made my way towards him.