Page 11 of Venus
“I’m just fucking with you, champ.” Trevor says.
“Seriously though,” Jackson interrupts Trevor from continuing to hear himself talk. “She works at the hospital, right?”
I nod. “Yeah, labor and delivery.”
“So next time we’re in the ER, just ask around like a lost puppy looking for his owner. This is a small town, somebody down in Emergency’s gotta know her.”
They joke, but I’ve actually considered it. She might feel differently about that night, but she wasn’t just a fling to me. There was something more there. I can just feel it.
In my heart, not my dick.
Although my dick did enjoy itself.
Before I continuethattrain of thought, the shrill wail of the alarm fills the station. We all jump to our feet. Testing done. Adrenaline takes over. Training kicks in.
Residential structure fire. Heavy smoke and visible flames. Engine One respond.
The dispatcher’s description of the fire focuses us further. I take the radio and confirm we’re on our way as the Captain tells us to move. The last of the crew hops on the truck as it pulls out of the garage, and it’s all lights and sirens on the way.
The ride is fast and tense. The crew takes turns checking each other’s turnout gear and air tanks to ensure we’re ready to go as soon as we reach the site.
We stare out of the window and watch the streets race by, each one of us knowing that our job is to be faster than the flames.
The smoke can be seen well before we reach the house. It’s a small single-story on the edge of town, and it’s completely engulfed already. Flame shoots out of the front door and broken windows. Thick black smoke curls and puffs into the sky like the devil himself is using the home as a cigar. The orange glow of the flames light up the street ominously as people from town begin to gather to watch the grim sight.
Captain Rodriguez shouts orders as we roll to a harsh stop. The hose is deployed and the protective gear is on.
Out front, our station’s ambulance stops near the elderly couple as they watch their lives reduce to black ashes in the flames. The woman cries and the man isfrantically pointing to the house, his shouting unintelligible over the loud flames.
Over the radio in our helmets, I hear Captain say their pet is still inside. A small brown yorkie.
I’ll be damned if I don’t find that dog. I start moving towards the house with Jackson at my back before they even finish describing where the dog was last seen in the house. With my brother covering me, we crawl through the house below the smoke. We hear a small, faint, panicked yapping on the far end of the main living area.
I squint through the smoke and see two small ears and a shaking little dog on a chair that looks more flammable than gasoline.
“Gotcha!” I breathe, reaching for the terrified yorkie as it yelps. Jackson leads me out of the house backwards on our hands and knees with his hand on my ankle. When we emerge from the house and the elderly woman sees her precious pup in my arms, she gasps and reaches for him.
All things considered, he looks fine. A bit of burnt fur but no concerning breathing patterns.
When I emerge into the night air, I pass the shaking dog into the arms of his owner. She gasps like I’ve handed her a newborn.
Oh God. I shouldn’t have said newborn. Now I’m thinking about—
“Oh, Charlie! Oh, my baby, he’s okay! Thank you, thank you—”
Hervoice cracks, and her husband chokes up beside her. I take off my mask and give them a tired smile and motion to the small patch of singed fur on the pup’s hind legs. “Take him to the vet just to be safe, alright? He’s a tough little guy.”
The woman clutches my hand, her palm warm and trembling. “God bless you,” she whispers. I nod and join the rest of the crew attempting to get control of the inferno.
It takes hours, but the flames are finally dispelled. We’re covered in sweat, soot, and water, and the house is a total loss, but the important part is that there were no casualties. The one thing about this town is that the community will come together to help out the couple that’s lost everything.
We’re four hours past shift change, and we’re all toast. We’re all exhausted. We smell disgusting. We’re hungry. As we reach the station and change, I find myself unable to get off the bench in the locker room.
My elbows rest on my knees and I close my eyes, relaxing my back and trying to ease the tension there.
But it’s not the fire that’s got me worked up anymore.
It’s that damn girl. Venus.
