Page 52 of Fighting for Tawny

“Okay. Get behind me.”

More beams crashed. The flames surrounding them grew hotter, making it more difficult to breathe. Tawny grabbed a small wooden rocking chair and swung it at the window with enough force to shatter it. Air rushed in. She brushed aside the jagged pieces of glass and looked down. Guessing her intention, Moira had the Titans ready with an inflatable cushion.

Tawny lifted the child into her arms. “Serena, see that giant cushion?”

She gazed down into the yard and whimpered. “Y…yes.”

“You and I are going to jump on it like a trampoline. It’s not far to jump. No farther than a really tall slide at the park. Now, hang on tight. One…two…three…”

Tawny jumped from the windowsill. Behind her, she heard an enormous crash as the bedroom floor gave way. She and Serena landed safely, bouncing a little. Dee and Debbie helped Serena off the cushion and handed her to her anxious parents. Serena’s older siblings rushed over to hug her. Yolanda and Terrin pulled Tawny off the cushion.

“Jesus, that was brave,” Yolanda declared in awe.

“Brave but stupid,” Terrin added. “You, of all people, should know better than to run into a burning building without backup.”

“I know, but?—”

Serena’s parents approached the trio with their daughter.

“Thank you,” Serena’s mother began, her voice choked with emotion. “Thank you for saving our little girl. We thought she was with one of us when we rushed out of the house. We…we feel so ashamed.”

“Don’t. The main thing is your family is alive and safe.”

They watched as firefighters sprayed Serena’s home with water, now a burnt husk. Another team of firefighters doused the roof of the house next to it.

Serena held up her teddy bear. “I want to give you Mr. Brown Bear.”

Tawny smiled. “Aw, sweetie, that’s very kind of you.” She leaned down and pretended to listen to the bear. “But Mr. Brown Bear told me he loves you too much to ever say goodbye to you.”

She hugged the bear. “I love him, too.”

Serena’s parents thanked Tawny and the others again, gathered their three children, and moved with solemnity down the street to huddle with their neighbors.

It took the rest of the afternoon to put out the fire. The firefighters saved as many homes as possible, but the ones that lined the street's left side along the block were a total loss. At least no one was hurt or injured, and their pets were safe and sound. And this time, no one made snide remarks about their being inmates or not wanting them out in public. They proved themselves. Pride filled their hearts and fed their starving souls.

At camp, they took showers and cooked dinner. Around the table, they discussed what they’d learned at the scene and what they could do next time to improve their performance.

“Experience is the best teacher, as I said before,” Moira commented. “I can teach you fire science and show you how the equipment works, but until you actually have to do it, it’s only knowledge, not skill.”

They lifted their cups of iced tea or soda. “Amen.”

“You know, I used to have nightmares when I was a kid about my house burning down,” Debbie remarked. “Today…watching those people lose everything, all those childhood fears came flooding back.”

“Me, too,” Ronette added. “I think everyone experiences those dreams. Right?”

Almost everyone agreed. From there, the conversation segued into a lively discussion about dreams in general. When Debbie shared another one of her nightmares about one hundred beheaded cats on her back porch, forks clattered onto plates, and their mouths fell open in shock.

“Girl, are you crazy?” Yolanda demanded.

“No, of course not! I can explain the source of my dream. My cat, Foxy, got hit by a car that broke his back. The poor thing crawled through a hole in our screened-in porch, and we found him under the barbecue grill.” Her dark green eyes filled with sadness. “We had to lie to Animal Control about Foxy being our cat so they’d take him and put him down ‘cause we didn’t have the money for a vet, and we didn’t want him to suffer anymore.”

“God, that’s the saddest story I’ve ever heard.”

Stories about pets followed as they finished eating and cleaned the kitchen. Afterward, they played cards and listened to music until Moira had to leave them alone with Whitcomb and Macintosh, the new guy whom Tawny intuitively disliked.

She walked with Moira out to her car. “Any news?” she inquired in a low voice.

“Colfer wasn’t a corrections officer. He did fifteen years in the Army. Hard to believe someone got the jump on him like that. Jiena suspects he’s related to one of the missing or dead women.”

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