The Fireman

I don’t remember much about that night, but I remember distinctly three things. One, the flickering brilliance of a fantastic fire. Two, the screaming voices of my sister and mother. And three, that it was my fault.

I woke up the next day, covered by a fallen area of roofing, to the sharp smell of smoke, soot and ash. I was bathed in it. It stifled me as I tried to breathe. My blackened hair and shirtless form were rivalled only by the darkened walls surrounding me. Pushing the wood off my body, I sat up in the midst of what I once called home. Comfort had burned away. Joy and laughter had burned away. Love had burned away. All that met me now was broken glass, smouldering heaps of wood, collapsed doorways and an endless expanse of greyed-out sky.

“Kid! What are you doing there?”

I turned to face the direction of the voice. As he ran towards me, I could make out a bright yellow suit and a red helmet. His boots were heavy on the floor as his sturdy frame advanced. I could just make out through the smoke that he hoisted a white hose, coiled like a snake at its tail just before it was ready to strike.

A fireman.

“How did you get here?”

“He must’ve snuck in after we started the cooling down,” said another fireman, trailing behind the first. He too lofted a hose and immediately began spraying water over the walls. "Get him out of there. We still have to clean up."

“What’s your name, kid?”

“Aidan,” I managed to reply through a slight cough. “I live here.”

“You live here? So where were you when we responded to the fire?” he said under his breath. “Let’s get you out of here, Aidan,” he said, dropping the hose to pick me up. He was as strong as he looked. He brought me out of the building and sat me on the corner of his truck. He began to search me over with his eyes and remove his gloves.

“No scratches on you. Good to see that,” he remarked. “How did you get in the middle of the floor like that?”

“I don’t know,” I said, holding my head down. “I just woke up there.”

The fireman paused as his face gained a puzzled look. “You woke up in the middle of a burned-out building?”

“Yeah,” I replied. My head was still down. I didn’t want to look at him.

“That’s not possible,” he responded, leading my head up and touching his bare hand to my forehead. “You would have been burned al— I mean, you couldn’t possibly have survived that. Oy!” His hand recoiled right after touching my face. “Roasting, aren’t you?” Lifting the radio attached to his uniform, he ordered, “I need an ambulance at 225 East. One patient, male, about 13 years. He has signs of smoke inhalation and a really high fever.” He dropped the radio and returned his attention to me. “What happened here, Aidan? Do you remember anything?”

I coughed twice as my mind tried to remember what happened the night before. But nothing came to me. All I remembered was brightness and heat, and piercing screams. Then it dawned on me. The fireman said only one patient.

“Where’s Mommy?!” My head snapped up and turned towards the house again as my heart and lungs began to race. My screams pierced the air as if I were a madman, betraying the bed of gravel in my throat. “Where is she?! Mom?! MOMMY?!”

“Kid, calm down,” he tried to reassure me. But it was no good.

“MOMMY!!” I shouted at the top of my lungs, begging her, pleading with her to respond. Breaking free from the fireman and his truck, I ran toward the spot where my house once stood. My bare feet ached with every sharp rock and splinter I stepped on - no boots to protect them. I ran on lava to find her. But the pain erupting in my heart was far worse.

“MOMMY?! CINDY? Where are you?!”

My swift feet approached the remains of my front porch, but just before I made the first step, I was snatched out of the air by another fireman. He wrapped his arms around me as a bear grasps his prey.

“Let me go! I need to find my mom!” My limbs flailed in the air as I struggled to get free.

“Kid, you can’t go in there! It’s dangerous!” His explanation did little to soothe me. I managed to yank myself loose from his clutches. I landed onto the porch just as they brought out the first bag. Black and slender, its length was about the same as my mother’s height.

My legs became water as my body collapsed to the bare earth.

“Somebody grab that kid!”

I felt a pair of arms grab me and raise me to shoulder height. My eyes filled with tears as they began to dim. I could make out voices and shapes, but it was as though the smoke moved from the gutted house and into my eyes, casting a dingy grey over my entire being. I succumbed to it, wanting to feel and remember nothing more.

—

Beck rushed Aidan back to the truck and gently laid him on the ground beside it, placing him on his back. “Where the hell is that ambulance?!” His heated inquiry gave way to the sounds of sirens approaching from the distance.

“About time! This kid needs medical attention!” He began administering CPR while the ambulance pulled up right beside his firetruck. "I can't lose you too," he whispered. Another firefighter ran up to help him.

“This has got to be the worst fire I’ve seen in my career as a firefighter,” Jesse commented, helping the EMTs remove their equipment from the ambulance. “Three hours to put the flames out!”

“Yeah,” Beck replied. His breathing was belaboured with every push on Aidan's chest. “Fifteen years in this fire department, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen it this bad either. And this kid in the middle of it? Weird,” he said as the EMTs took over. They tended to Aidan with an oxygen mask, almost fumbling with their haste. Beck, satisfied that they were finally doing their job, arose to reel his hose onto the firetruck.

“Impossible that he survived.”

"Mhm. But he’s here. Not a scratch on him except for the highest fever I've ever felt, but he’s here.”

“That is weird. Too bad about his family, though,” Jesse said, helping Beck put the hose onto the truck. “You think he has any more family?”

Beck turned to look with pity at Aidan, as the responders lifted his barely alive, soot-ridden body into the ambulance. “For his sake, I hope so. A kid shouldn’t have to grow up without a family.”

“Beck, come look at this,” shouted a voice from within the rubble. “Isn’t this where you found the kid?”

“Yeah,” he replied. “Why?”

“Come look.”

Beck walked briskly into the house and cast his eyes around the room slowly. The missing roof caused wisps of smoke to ascend into the dawn. The entire room below was charred beyond recognition. The house's contents were deemed perfectly unrecognizable from the inferno the night before. Nothing remained. Except, Beck could clearly make out two burn shadows, spots on the wall where the fire had not touched. The first was of a man, which struck him as odd. A man’s body was not found in the house or anywhere nearby. The second was across the room from the first. From it, Beck could make out two persons hugging, at the very location that Aidan’s mother and sister were found.

At the centre of it all, there was another burn pattern, curiously radiating from the very spot where Aidan woke up.