CHAPTER NINETEEN
Brock
The dream hit me like a bus. No, twelve busses!
I was on my father’s sail boat and this time my grandfather was there.
He had a wolf with him. A wild grey wolf with long sharp fangs and gilded glowing eyes. Tethered to my grandfather, the wolf paced back and forth on the deck, obviously distressed, growling at everything and anything even when he was offered food. He smelled of blood and raw meat, his tongue glistened like black silk. Every once in awhile he leapt up on the bow railing and howled at the moon.
I thought it strange that my parents were gone, but I didn’t dwell on the fact. The wolf did his best to demand all my attention. I tried to pat the beast’s head, but those razor teeth snapped just inches from my hand.
Next thing I knew, Amy was there. She took our beautiful quilt—our love quilt— and wrapped the wolf in it. As she raised him in her arms, she looked at me intently as if to say ‘See? He’s tame now. He won’t hurt us.’ I thought it odd she wasn’t afraid. I gazed into those liquid warm eyes, completely in awe of her. This petite beautiful woman was fearless.
Then, in a moment so quick it took my breath away, she threw the wolf into the ocean.
I looked at her, stunned.
In a moment of panic, I jumped in the water. I didn’t know why, nor did I understand how, but that’s what I did. Clothes and all, I jumped into that frigid cold ocean after a damned wolf!
When I woke, half the firehouse was in my hospital room. Most of them just stood there, eyes big as marbles, staring at me like I was some sort of Messiah risen from the dead.
I blinked hard and then sat up in my bed, yanking some sort of tubing out of my nose. “Damn. If you guys are angels, I must be in hell!”
“If we were angels you’d have to be dead,” quipped Williams. “Although you might be after I get done with you. What the hell were you thinking, Brock? I thought you went up there to lend them your expertise, not to climb a dammed mountain and jump into the fire for god’s sake! You haven’t been in the field for over ten years, Fifteen if you count that wilderness shit they trained you for. “
“Listen, those men were out of their league. And you of all people should know it’s never been my style to lead from the rear. I knew what I was doing.”
“If you knew what you were doing, you would have stayed put. Fifteen years, Brock. Fifteen years since you’ve been in a forest fire and things have changed. You’re not up on all that stuff. You had no business volunteering for that kind of shit. Not anymore.”
I groaned. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Just barely and besides what if your heart gave out.”
“My heart?”
“Yes, your heart.”
“You saying I’m too old?”
“Damn right I am.”
“Fuck you, Williams. It’s a good thing I arrived. They needed every man they could get. Someone told me you were up there the day before and you’re older than I am.”
“I haven’t been sitting behind a desk for ten years.” Blowing out a breath, he shook his head. “Stubborn ass. How do you feel, anyway?”
My eyes burned and I struggled to keep them open. I sucked in a lungful of air, wondering why I still felt breathless.
“I’m….I’m okay but….” I looked away, swallowing my pride. “I get what you’re saying but I had to go.”
Williams grinned. “We’re just glad you’re okay.”
I launched into a coughing attack so thunderous and debilitating I nearly passed out.
Looking panicked, Williams asked if he should call the nurse. He grabbed my call-bell intent on pushing the red button before yanking it out of his grip. I held up a palm and one finger, promising I would be fine in a few minutes.
After what seemed like forever, the coughing subsided. I took another breath and blew my nose, but my throat hurt like the devil.
“Listen,” said Williams. “I’m giving you your old job back. The doctor says any more action like that back there and your heart is done for.” He shifted foot to foot, eyes narrowed and lips tight. I could tell he was gearing up for an argument with me.
“Is that so?”
“Yeah.”
“And why is that?”
“Your lungs are shot man… not to mention what the hell kind of shape your heart is in from fighting fires all those years.”
“Put it back on,” said a stern voice walking into the room. A man in a pale green scrub-coat with a stethoscope around his neck approached my bed. He took the oxygen tubing, stretched it out, stuck the prongs inside my nose, and then clipped it behind my ears. “You’ve experienced some pretty significant hypoxia, Mr. Fitzgerald. You need the oxygen to heal.”
I grumbled. I was not used to people telling me what to do. What next? Would they feed me jello on a spoon next?
The nurse’s arms folded over his chest. “Hi. I’m Terrance. How are we feeling today?” He took hold of my wrist and looked at his watch. I presumed he was taking my pulse.
I hadn’t bothered answering what I considered was a stupid question but then I had one of my own. “Why does it feel like I can’t get enough air?”
“You have carbon dioxide poisoning. The oxygen in your blood isn’t adequate. You’ll feel better in a few days.” I glanced down at my fingertips which were pale with a slight blue tint. “And why do I look like a fucking Smurf?”
“I told you. It will get better in a few days. Just keep that oxygen in your nose.”
“Is he going to be okay?” asked Garcia looking worried. I didn’t know why but it actually surprised me that he cared. They all did.
Terrance turned to the men in the room. “We’re hoping he doesn’t have any long-term effects from the smoke but it’s too early to tell. We’ll know more once the test results come back.”
“Tests?” I looked down at the tubes coming out of both arms. When the hell had they taken blood?
I must have looked worried because Terrance patted my hand and gave me a kind smile. “They’re just routine. Nothing to get worked up about. Okay?”
I nodded, but I didn’t feel okay. I felt downright ridiculous lieing in a hospital bed when the only pain I had was a slight headache and some out-of-breath episodes, which I was sure would clear up. My brain raced back to the fire. Williams was right. I never should have volunteered. I wasn’t prepared. Hell, I didn’t even know the area and because of that, it was possible I’d damaged my lungs, ruining myself for working in the field. Fuck. I’d made up my mind to go back fighting fires. Now what the hell was I going to do with my life? I stared at Williams, not wanting to ask the question, and bracing myself for the worse. “I didn’t— ?”
“Nothing you did…jeopardized anyone’s life,” he said slowly. “Several of those guys admitted they were in a panic. They’d not even thought about pulling out their tarps out of their web gear until you suggested it. I hate to admit this, but it’s a good thing you were there. You probably saved half a dozen firefighters.”
I looked away. It should have made me feel better but it didn’t. I didn’t want to go back to a desk job. I needed to be active or at least know I was making a difference. I didn’t know when, but something had changed inside me. Or someone had changed me. For years, I’d been content to stay in my office while everyone around me took risks, but that didn’t appeal to me any longer. After almost dieing, I started to think about what it would be like to be like every other man my age. I found myself wanting things I’d never considered before. Selfish things, I thought, but I wanted them just the same. A home. Perhaps family. Little people that looked like me running around. And when the hell had that happened? I’m forty-one years old, I thought glumly. Fine time to reprioritize your life, Fitzgerald. Suddenly, I went into another coughing attack. I heard the nurse say something about my needing rest and with a bit of grumbling, the guys trickled out of the room one by one, leaving me in my misery.
A few minutes later, the nurse gave me something intravenously, “to make you sleep,” she said.