Heartward

by Andrew Grey

  “It feels like I’m going to court,” Tyler said.

  Alan took his hands. “In a way you are. There are procedures to be followed. But since you’re in your probationary period, your employment can be terminated. However, since the board voted to hire you, then they must be the ones to make that decision.” He released his hand and finished getting his things together. Then Alan led him out the front door and around to his car. “Let’s get you something to eat, and then we can head to the meeting.”

  “I need to see Abey. Mom and Dad picked him up from day care today.”

  Alan climbed into the passenger seat. “Then let’s go.”

  Tyler nodded, started the engine, and went to his parents’, where his mother had dinner on the table.

  “Your father is going to go to the meeting, and I’m staying here with Abey.”

  Tyler turned to his father, unsure of what to expect.

  “If the chief made a bad call and you overrode him, then that took guts. Sometimes being right isn’t worth the fight. I think this time it is. I believe you saved lives and you need our support. Your mom is going to take care of your son, and I’m going to the meeting with mine.” It seemed his father had said his piece, because he ate his dinner quickly and left the table.

  Tyler tried to eat, but his appetite wasn’t there. Still, he ate what he could, then said goodbye to Abey. “You be good for Grammy.”

  Abey stopped eating long enough to nod and went back to his dinner.

  Tyler didn’t want to go. Part of him desperately wanted to stay here and escape from what was going to happen tonight. Let the chief make his case, let Alan speak for him, and just not show his face. But that wasn’t fair to Alan or himself.

  A gentle hand rested on his shoulder. “Sometimes you have to be willing to go to the wall for what you want and what’s right.” He turned to his mom. “And dang it—” She turned away, wiping her eyes. “—I want you and Abey to stay in town. I want to see my grandson grow up, and not just through pictures.” She sniffed as Tyler’s throat scratched. “So you go down there and give it all you got.” Her hand rested on his shoulder again. “You put as much into what you want as you did with helping all those people overseas, and fighting for Abey… and, well, everything else you do.” She turned away, and the touch lessened and was gone. His mother left the room, and Tyler turned to Alan.

  “You have plenty of support.” He took Tyler’s hand, and Tyler looked to his dad to gauge his reaction. But his dad only smiled and then went to wait by the door. Tyler and Alan joined him, and Tyler took a look back at Abey, waving, and then left the house.

  “I feel like I’m going to the last roundup or something.”

  “Son, we’ll figure it out. We’re a family.”

  Tyler had heard that so many times over the past week that he wanted to scream. But then he took a step back and thought more deeply. He did have support, plenty of it. He was just going to have to see what happened.

  THE COUNCIL room was sparsely filled, the chairs mostly empty, with a few people sitting up front. Tyler went into the bathroom and checked that he still looked good in his uniform. He was a firefighter, and he intended to make that impression. After washing his hands, he returned to the council chamber and sat next to his father as more and more people came in. Tyler had no idea if a large crowd was good or bad for him, and he kept his attention on Alan as he took his place on the dais.

  Tyler sat upright and as still as he could, ignoring the chief as he entered and took a seat across the aisle. A number of people came forward to greet him, and Tyler did his best not to react to the sideways glances that were cast his way.

  A knocking brought the room quiet. “Good evening. This special meeting was called at the request of Fire Chief Tillis Coburn,” the president of the council, Gilbert Lowell, said. “We will open the floor for public discussion, but as of now, the council wants to make it clear that the council voted to hire Tyler Banik as our latest fire captain, and we did it because the council felt that the fire department needed to be brought current and was in need of a fresh new voice.” Gilbert didn’t waver his gaze, and Tyler realized that he was speaking directly to the fire chief.

  Chief Coburn stood and walked to the speaker’s podium. “I believe there are circumstances that the board needs to be aware of that will change the view of the board and make them reconsider their decision.” The chief cleared his throat.

  “Chief, you requested this meeting, and it’s my hope—”

  One of the other council members shifted nervously in his chair. “I’d like to hear what the chief has to say.”

  The president looked down the dais in each direction and, to Tyler’s discomfort, even Alan was nodding. The president’s gaze widened in surprise. “Even you?” he asked Alan.

  “Yes. I believe that the chief should be heard, but I also believe that Captain Banik should be given equal time to inform us of just what he has found out about the readiness of our fire department and the training our men have received. The town deserves to know how wisely their tax money is being spent.” Alan turned his gaze to the chief. “And how ready their fire department is under Chief Coburn’s leadership.”

  The first salvo was fired across the chief’s bow.

  “That’s not material to the discussion,” the chief countered, and one of the other council members echoed it.

  “If we are here to potentially end the employment of someone the board agreed to hire, and who has a stellar reputation both in St. Louis as well as three years aiding disaster relief around the world, then we have to ask about the character and the motives of someone who wishes to cast doubt on this person.” Alan wasn’t backing down, and while he was defending the board’s decision, he was also planting ideas in the other board members’ minds. “Chief, if you wish to proceed, then I suggest you do so,” Alan invited.

  Sweat broke out on the chief’s forehead. “Our newest captain, who the board hired without my input, at a fire scene, countermanded my orders in front of the other men and fire companies. How can an organization that responds to emergencies hope to operate efficiently when the chain of command is ignored? It’s that simple. He put the lives of the other firefighters in jeopardy and was injured himself because of his actions.” The chief stepped forward with some papers. “I brought copies of my report for those who haven’t read them.”

  Alan sat back, and Tyler wondered what was up his sleeve. “Chief, are you referring to the recent incident at the fuel depot?”

  “Yes, I am,” he answered firmly.

  “The incident where you ordered the team to spray water on a petroleum fire with a burning pool of accelerant in the catch basin?” Alan leaned forward again. “I’m not a firefighter, but even I know that you will only spread a petroleum fire if you put water on it because the fuel will float and disperse. It sounds to me like the person making the bad decisions at that fire scene was you. Is that not true, chief?” Alan asked, then turned to the president of the board. “I spoke to the head of the Ludington Fire Brigade, as well as the MC East Brigade, and they both agreed that putting water directly on the burning fuel would only have spread it. They described Captain Banik’s decisions as correct and prudent. I have letters from both of them.” Alan passed them down and held one set forward. “Would you like to see them, chief?”

  He didn’t move.

  “The letters from the other departments both say that by the time they arrived, Captain Banik had the neighboring tanks wetted and cooled, dramatically lessening the threat of the disaster worsening.” Alan didn’t smile, but damn, Tyler was impressed. Alan hadn’t told him about the letters or the other research he was doing.

  The chief cleared his throat. “Councilman Pettaprin has a personal relationship with Mr. Banik, and I believe his judgment is clouded and the information he’s presenting is likely to be one-sided.” There was the hint of a smile.

  “My relationship with Captain Banik is not something that’s germane to these
proceedings, nor is it something that any council member is in the dark about. However, chief, these letters and their authenticity can be verified with a phone call. So regardless of what you might think of me….”

  Damn, Alan was impressive, especially when he turned to Mr. Lowell and nodded.

  “Is there other information that the council should be aware of?” Mr. Lowell asked.

  “Yes. Actually, there is,” Alan said. “Chief, is it also true that Captain Banik saved you and Jerry Malvern from being struck by flying debris and in the process was burned himself?”

  Murmurs went through the crowd.

  “Yes, he did.” Tyler turned to find Jerry standing in the back of the room. “The piece of burning shrapnel in question was heading for our heads, and Captain Banik pulled both of us out of the way.”

  “Can you please come forward and state your name and address for the secretary?” Mr. Lowell said, and Jerry came up front and took the podium area from the chief, who loomed nearby. Jerry did his best to ignore him, but seemed nervous, his eyes darting around the room.

  “Jerry Malvern.” Jerry gave his address and then repeated what he’d said. “Captain Banik has saved lives since he came to Scottville, and he’s been willing to work with the team to train the rest of the firefighters.”

  “And has this training been scheduled?” the councilwoman next to Alan answered.

  “No. The chief said there was no money in the budget for rescue training.” Jerry’s gaze seemed to carry to the back of the room where a group of firefighters in uniform all stood. “We’ve seen Captain Banik in action, and he watches out for the rest of the team, as well as the public. He’s a good firefighter.” The others in the back applauded, and Tyler smiled at their show of support. Jerry left the podium and walked to the back of the room, the chief’s stare burning a hole in his back.

  “Is there anything else that you want to say, Chief Coburn?”

  “Just that a good team depends on leadership that they can count on, and questions about that leadership only lead to inaction and putting the public and our fellow firefighters in danger.”

  A few of the council members nodded. Alan sat back.

  “That may be true, chief, but it doesn’t answer the questions, and what you’ve said doesn’t prove that the council should vote to remove Captain Banik from duty. Quite the contrary. You’ve demonstrated that he has the loyalty of the department, that he looks out for them and for you, and that he acted correctly in seeing to it that a fire scene was handled correctly. Is there anything else?” Mr. Lowell seemed a little pleased when the chief remained silent. “Mr. Banik, do you have anything you’d like to add?”

  Tyler stood, his head spinning. He hadn’t expected that kind of support, and it was gratifying, but one thing had become very clear in his mind, and Tyler could see no way around it.

  “Thank you.” He slowly stepped to the podium and gave his name and address. “I returned to Scottville after almost ten years because I wanted to give my son a chance at a quieter life. You see, I adopted Abey after I rescued hm. The boat that he and his family were on sank, and Abey, along with a man who managed to bring him to shore, were among the only survivors. Abey still has nightmares and is scared of boats, even ones on TV. And he wanted for food, so he eats everything and still says that his grampy steals because he took a piece of Abey’s bacon.”

  The audience chuckled softly as Tyler looked out at everyone.

  “I wanted him to be able to ride a horse.” Tyler smiled at Geoff and Eli, sitting in the third row. “And I’m happy to report that Abey now has a horse friend, named Peaches, that he talks about all the time.” He took a deep breath to try to organize his racing thoughts. “There were many things I was unsure of regarding the move back here, but I was sure that I could give Abey a life that would allow him to grow up happy, with a grammy and grampy who adore him.” Tyler flashed a smile at his father.

  The council remained quiet, and Tyler was grateful for that or he wouldn’t be able to say what he needed to say.

  “Listening to everyone tonight, there is one thing that has become very clear. And that is that regardless of the decision today, I can’t stay here.” A rumble went up from those assembled, and Tyler didn’t dare look at Alan. “You see, it doesn’t matter what the council decides here today. If my employment is terminated, then I’ll leave quietly. But if you decide you want me to stay, then… I can’t. Because there is no way the fire chief and I will be able to work together.”

  Tyler looked straight at Chief Coburn and hesitated for a second. He didn’t want to burn bridges, but there were things that had to be said. “You have made it very clear that I am not welcome in your department. From our first meeting, you did your best to make me uncomfortable and to try to make me toe your line, which is something I cannot do. Your line has created a department of good people who are in need of training and team building. Your way would have cost an entire company their lives when one of the secondary fuel tanks burst. The things you believe and the way you run this company might have been good twenty years ago, but they aren’t now. These men want to learn, and they want to be able to protect the community as best they can. But that isn’t going to happen with old equipment and training budgets that simply aren’t utilized.” Tyler turned away from the chief and finally turned toward the council. “I’m sorry to say it, but I really don’t see much other choice. Any future here between me and the chief is pretty much untenable.” Tyler hated to say it, but it was true.

  “Captain Banik, that can’t be true,” Mr. Lowell said. “It seems you have the support of the council.”

  “Yes, and I’m grateful for it. But the department will have its loyalty divided if I stay. There will be those who feel that they must follow Chief Coburn and those who would rather follow me. The department can’t have that. Lives will be in danger, and there’s no way I can live with that.” Tyler sighed. “Thank you all so much.”

  He stepped back from the podium and took his seat once more, doing his best to keep his chin up, but failing. Knowing what he had to do and liking it were two very different things. The council didn’t seem pleased with the chief at the moment, but no one had mentioned replacing him, and that was the only way Tyler would be able to stay. There had to be a clear line of leadership within the fire department. Tyler knew he would have had a hand in the breakdown and the factionalism that was sure to erupt if he stayed, but it had come about on his part through a desire to do the right thing and protect life and property. Whether he’d been right or wrong, it didn’t matter now. He had to do what was good for the fire department.

  Tyler glanced at the chief, who seemed smug as hell. He had gotten what he wanted in the end, and there was nothing Tyler could do about that now. Yes, the council hadn’t fired him and the chief had looked like a fool, but what was done was done and he’d have to make his way forward, with Abey.

  Tyler hazarded a glance up toward the council dais. He had dreaded what he would see and wasn’t surprised. Alan looked stricken and pale as he tried to keep his composure.

  “The council will take ten minutes as they review the chief’s request.” Mr. Lowell pounded the gavel, and low conversation broke out. Most of the council members left the room, and Tyler stood, striding out to the bathroom. He didn’t see that they had much of a choice in their deliberations.

  He clutched the edge of the counter in the bathroom, his hands cramping with the force. The thought of leaving town and Alan made his stomach churn, and his throat tasted like death. He swallowed and tried to keep the bile from rising.

  “Tyler.” The door opened and Alan hurried inside. “What are you doing?”

  “It’s the only way,” Tyler told Alan without turning around. If he did, his resolve would crumble. “I see it, and if you think about it, you will too. The chief will only make my life miserable and divide the department. It will get to the point where the department won’t be able to function, and I can’t have that. The people
here deserve a fire department that is able to respond, and they have that and will continue to under the chief.” He screwed up his courage and turned around. “This is ripping me apart.” He swallowed around the grapefruit-sized lump in his throat. “Do you think this is what I want? It isn’t. But there’s no choice. We fought, and you allowed me to keep my reputation.” He felt like such a failure. Tyler had let himself, Abey, and Alan down, and there was nothing he could do about it. In hindsight, Tyler should have kept his head low, done his job, and simply gone along with things. He’d have been a hell of a lot happier and have had the things that truly mattered to him. “He isn’t going to give up, no matter what. There’s too much at stake for him.”

  “You’re probably right, but what about us? You and me? I thought we had something special.” Alan swallowed hard. “Maybe I was foolish and should have asked how you saw things between us. Maybe things were different for you.”

  The crack Tyler heard in his head was real, but not to anyone else. It was the sound of his and Alan’s hearts cracking down the middle.

  “No. I felt the same thing and I want what you did… what you do. But I don’t see a way out of this. If I stay, I will tear the department apart, even though if I leave, my heart will never be whole again. I know it would be easier to pick my heart and just stay and endure whatever the chief dishes out. I’d have you, and I can do just about anything with you.” Tyler yanked Alan forward and into his arms. “I know you’d back me up, that I don’t doubt, but there’s only so much you can do. And in the end, we’d both end up losing. The town needs you on the council, and they need a fire department that isn’t hobbled by dissension.” Tyler closed his eyes. “I hope you can see why I have to do this.”