Page 55 of To the Moon and Back
He had lived through the most terrible thing once.
He would live through it again. She had to believe it.
On her way into the building, Jenna stopped in the victims’ room. There she met up with a volunteer who took the items from her bag. Along with photos she gave the woman an engraved key chain from her parents’ fifth anniversary and the bookmark her mom had treasured, the one with the quote from Little Women. Her dad’s Bible and some dried flowers. An old penny dated the year her parents married.
Small things, but still important.
The lady assured Jenna that her parents’ memorabilia would be placed in two separate side-by-side glass boxes for visitors to see.
“We’ll have it put together by the end of the week,” she said.
Jenna looked again at their pictures and she could feel the memories come to life.
She might’ve only been five years old, but she remembered them both. She could still hear her mother’s voice, feel her arms around her daddy’s neck. She could see their eyes, the way they looked into hers. Yes, she was glad she’d come today. Glad she’d brought the items for her parents’ part of the memorial. However sad, it was important that people know who Bill and Betsy Phillips were. Proof that her parents had lived and mattered. A way for everyone who passed by to see something of who they had been.
Before she left, Jenna found the glass box for Sandra Bradshaw—Brady’s mother. Inside was a photo of a woman and a little boy—clearly the two of them. Next to it was what looked like a copy of a child’s drawing of the moon and stars. Beneath the image, in childish writing, the words To the Moon and Back—Brady Bradshaw—Age 5. Jenna felt her heart breaking.
A final look at the other glass boxes and photos that lined the walls of the room and Jenna took a step back. God, remove me from this place. I’ve had all I can take. I want to be with Brady. She turned and walked back to her car. Something told her she needed to hurry, that her voice was important to him. Not just that, but her faith, too.
Because if Brady ever needed God it was now.
• • •
SOMETHING WAS DIFFERENT about Brady. Jenna could tell as soon as she entered his hospital room. She put her things down and stood at the side of his bed.
“Brady, it’s me. I’m back.” A quick pause and she searched his face, his arms, his bandaged right leg. Looking for any sign of movement. There was none. “Brady, it’s Jenna.” She studied his still handsome face. “If you can hear me, move your fingers. Open your eyes.”
There was a sound at the door and Jenna turned. A man wearing an Oklahoma City Fire Department shirt stood there. Clearly another firefighter. He stepped inside, hesitant. “Hi.” His eyes moved to Brady and then back to Jenna. “I’m Eric.” He walked in and shook her hand. “Eric Munez. I work with Brady.”
Jenna introduced herself. She paused. “You’re probably wondering why I’m here.” She could sense that much.
“He didn’t . . . mention you.” Eric looked like he felt bad making the admission.
She wouldn’t have expected Brady to talk about her to his work friends. He hadn’t seen her since they were seventeen. The fact that he’d written her a letter every April 19 and left it at the memorial was far more than she’d ever imagined.
She took one of the chairs near Brady’s bed and motioned for Eric to take the other. “It’s a long story.”
He seemed willing to listen, so for the next ten minutes she told him about meeting Brady and how the impact of that single day had remained. For both of them. “When I heard he was here”—she looked at Brady. He still hadn’t moved—“I had to come.”
“Wow.” Eric leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “Brady never talked about it.”
“I’m guessing he didn’t marry?” Jenna had visited Brady’s Facebook page, but there was no relationship status listed.
“No.” Eric took a deep breath and stood. He walked to the side of Brady’s bed and stared at his friend. “Never married. Barely dates.” Eric looked back at Jenna. “His whole life’s his work.”
Jenna knew Brady’s injuries were caused by the fire. But she didn’t know more than that. “Do you know how he got hurt?”
“Yeah.” Eric nodded. His eyes grew distant. “I was on the roof with him. At the edge.” He clenched his jaw and exhaled. “He took the middle . . . the most dangerous spot . . . so I wouldn’t.” His eyes met hers again. “I have a family. He doesn’t. If something happened he wanted it to happen to him.”
Her heart melted. “That’s the Brady I met years ago.”
“He shouldn’t be here. Falling through a roof like that, he never should’ve made it.” Eric turned and leaned against the bed rail, facing Jenna. “God has a plan for Brady. That’s what I keep telling him.”
“He must.” Jenna looked at Brady. “His doctor keeps saying it’s a miracle he’s still here.”
“I begged God for his life.” Eric sighed. “Brady’s a hero. Heroes shouldn’t die fighting fires.”
“All firefighters are heroes.” Jenna believed that.
