Chapter Twenty-Five
Xavier
Two weeks had passed since that night with Holly. She’d taken a cab home the following morning even though I’d asked her if I could take her home. She’d looked so sad and so confused, and I felt like nothing I did would make her feel better. She needed space, and she needed time to think, and I had to give it to her. I expected her to at least call me the next day, but when days turned into weeks, I started to wonder if I’d blown it. We’d taken it too far, and now I lost her for good. Even Rick hadn’t called me over in a while, which was unlike him. I usually went there at least twice a week. He often had reasons for inviting me over, a leaking pipe, or something that needed looking into. I used to wonder if he broke things on purpose just to get me to come over. But now I barely heard from him. Was he upset with me or was he just busy now with Holly around? Maybe he just wasn’t so lonely anymore. Or maybe, deep down, he sensed that I had done something wrong. I couldn’t help but feel guilty about the whole thing too. I had promised Rick that I would look after his daughter.
I got to work early that day even though I didn’t have to. I didn’t feel like being home alone and I wanted something to distract me. I headed straight over to make myself a cup of coffee when suddenly I heard the fire alarm go off. I jumped right into action, kitted myself up, and ran to help the guys.
The fire had taken place a few blocks away from the station, which in a way was lucky as it meant we could get there in no time. Unfortunately, the fire was big and already out of control. When I arrived, the smoke was everywhere, and people were running around screaming and begging us to help. Some members of the team helped to rope off the place and made sure that the people from the nearby houses were kept safe, while the rest of us went to the main house to attend to the fire. There were a lot of us working on it, mostly because it had spread so quickly.
“Mister! Mister!”
I turned to see a little girl running towards me and calling for me. She was covered in soot, and her wide eyes looked even larger and even whiter against the dirt. I ran to her and picked her up. I had no idea where she even came from as the area had been sectioned off and nobody from the public should be allowed here. She was so small, and when I picked her up, I couldn’t believe how light she was. She was terrified, and I could feel her entire body trembling in my arms.
“What are you doing here? Where are your parents?” I said. It was not safe for her to be anywhere near the house and I was desperate to get her away.
She spoke but I couldn’t make out what she was saying.
“What’s wrong?” I yelled over the noise. I could barely hear her.
“My dog,” she said, and tears began streaming down her face. The tears left a streak down her dirty face. “My dog is still inside. I tried to go in, but the smoke scared me. Pumpkin. That’s her name. She’s going to be so scared. I tried to get her.”
“You can’t go in there. Are you sure Pumpkin is still there? Maybe they got her?”
She shook her head. “No. She’s not here. She’s inside. A man came to get me and my parents, but they left Pumpkin. When I turned around, she was still in the room. She was too scared to come out because of the fire. I tried to get the man to go back in, but he said that we can’t. He said it’s not safe. But that means Pumpkin is going to die if we don’t get her. I’m so worried. She’s going to be so scared.”
“Where are your parents now?”
She looked around and pointed to a couple standing on the far right. They were shouting out towards the house and were obviously distraught that their daughter was missing. We rushed towards them, and they screamed with relief when they saw her.
“Where did you go? We were so worried.”
“I went to look for Pumpkin. We can’t leave her. We can’t leave her.” The little girl was sobbing now. When she looked at me, I saw the pleading in her eyes, and I knew what I had to do without her saying anything to me. We’d been trained as firefighters not to let emotions take over our decisions, and I knew this might get me into trouble. But, something in her eyes made me ignore my head and listen to my heart, despite the consequences.
It wasn’t safe to go back into the house even though the men were doing their best to get the house under control. But I couldn’t let something happen to the dog. Especially not with this little girl begging for me to help her. I would never be able to live with myself if something happened to her dog and I didn’t at least try and save her.
“You wait here with your mom and dad, okay? I’m going to see if I can find Pumpkin.”
“You will?” she asked between sobs.
“I’ll do my best.”
Her parents tried to stop me. Then one of the other firemen tried to stop me. But I ran in regardless, ignoring the fact that I was doing something dangerous. I couldn’t think about myself or what might happen, and I certainly couldn’t think about what my boss would say if he knew that I was going in. We were always warned about moments like this, and here I was going against what he had always taught me. Thankfully I’d been in the house earlier, and I had a fair idea of the layout, although it looked different now that the smoke inside had increased. I made my way straight over to the bedroom and hoped that the dog would still be there. I held my breath when I saw a small bundle in the corner. The dog didn’t look alive, but I didn’t have time to think about it. I just wrapped her up in a blanket and ran back outside. The moment I got out, I fell to the ground and tried to breathe in the fresh air. The smoke had gotten into my lungs, and I was having difficulty breathing. Kenny came running towards me with water and helped me back to my feet. I looked down at the bundle, and then out into the distance where I knew the little girl was waiting. I knelt down and opened the blanket and breathed a sigh of relief when the little dog looked up at me with big and grateful eyes. I picked her up and took her back to the little girl.
“Pumpkin! You got Pumpkin!” she said as she took the dog from me and burst into fresh tears.
“Of course I did. Come on, let’s get the dog some oxygen. The poor thing has breathed in a lot of smoke.”
I leaned over and kissed the girl on the forehead and told her that Pumpkin was one very lucky dog to have an owner like her. She looked at me and smiled, and I wished I could take a photo of that moment to save forever. It made me feel like I was worth something. I asked one of the men close by to bring the oxygen and help the dog.
“Thank you,” her mother said to me through her own set of tears.
“She’s a good girl. Great heart,” I said to her mother.
I ran back off with Kenny and continued helping the men with the fire. It took us hours to finally get it out, and by the time we were finished, we had managed to save most of it. I have no idea how we did it, but when I looked at the damage to the house at the end, I was surprised by how much of it remained intact. The way the fire was raging, I thought the entire place would be gone. I felt mentally and physically drained by it, and I couldn’t wait to sit down.
“You did well,” the chief said to the team as we made our way back to the station. “Xavier, a word please.”
I groaned as I stepped away from the boys and went to the boss. I knew I was about to get an earful for what I had done. The last thing I wanted at that moment was for him to tell me that I was in trouble when all I wanted to do was to put my feet up and relax.
“You shouldn’t have gone back into the house like that,” he said. “There’s no point in putting yourself in danger that way. I need my boys to be on alert. You don’t just rush in without thought or plan.”
I nodded. I wasn’t even going to try and deny what I had done. “I know. I’m sorry. I did have a plan though, but you’re right, I shouldn’t have.”
He shook his head. “I’m just glad you got out alive, and I’m glad you saved that little girl’s dog. You did well today, Xavier.”
“You’re not mad?”
“I’m a little mad. But I’m also very proud. I know I don’t say that often enough.”
I thanked him and made my way back to the station. It had been a horrible few weeks, but I was glad that I was at least able to do something good today. I felt pleased with myself. I might not be able to make Holly happy, but I’d saved a little dog from the fire and made the day of a little girl. That felt good. I felt that I was at least good for something. I would give anything to go home and just spend the night holding Holly but that wasn’t going to happen, and I was just going to have to accept it. I thought about calling her and telling her about what had happened, but I didn’t want her to come to me just because she felt sorry for me. I sighed. She was too good for me anyway. Holly deserved someone much better. Not someone who made promises to her father that he couldn’t keep.
“Hey man, want to come out for some beers tonight?” Kenny asked as I walked inside.
I wanted to be with Holly. I wanted to climb into bed with her and to feel her hands all over me. I wanted nothing more than to put my lips against hers. But that wasn’t going to happen.
“Yeah, that sounds great, actually.”
“We’re going to go for dinner at the old Kansas Café in town first, though. We’re all starving, and I don’t think anyone is in the mood to even think about cooking. We all just want to go out and forget about what happened.”
“That’s a great idea. That is exactly what I want to do too. Okay, I’m just going to go home to shower and change. I’ll meet you there.”
I got home, hopped into the shower, and spent a long time scrubbing the day off. I always felt like I needed about ten showers after a major fire. Nothing seemed to get that smell off me. I was in the shower for a long time, and when I got out and got changed, I saw that it was already late. I called Kenny, but he said that none of them had even left yet. Seemed like everyone was in the same situation as me. We agreed to meet at the café in half an hour. Whoever got there first would get the other person a beer. I took my time and then made my way out. I had never been readier for a big glass of beer in my life.