Chapter 9 #2
Ryan was our department’s cheerleader. At least, that’s what we joked around and called him.
He was a walking ray of positivity and happiness always.
I couldn’t remember ever seeing him remotely sad or angry—it was kind of weird.
And I got the feeling that if he ever were to get mad, I wouldn’t want to be around for the aftermath.
It was always the happiest people that exploded the worst when they’d eventually been through enough shit that they snapped.
If he had taken the tests to qualify for lieutenant, he had the personality to be a shoo-in. Lucky for me, he wasn’t in the running.
When he saw me, he pulled his earbuds out, a smile already on his face. “Hey, Mack. Back again for another lift?”
I shrugged, pulling my T-shirt over my head. “What else is there to do?”
He laughed. “I don’t know, maybe watch a show? Play cards? Read? Anything other than do a second workout in a singular morning.”
Grabbing two dumbbells, I walked to the bench next to his, and sat down, resting the weights on my knees. The equipment here wasn’t the best, as was evidenced by the wobbly bench beneath me that teetered if I shifted my weight marginally, but it did the trick.
“Why would I watch Rocky for the billionth time when I can be in here becoming him?” I leaned against the back of the bench and raised the dumbbells slowly over my head.
“I think you’ve surpassed Rocky, man, but you do you!” Ryan shook his head, and continued with his next set.
When I finished my first set, I rested the weights back on my knees and looked over at him. “Hey, can I ask you something?”
He blew out his exhale through puffed up cheeks. “Of course you can.”
Glancing down at my feet, I nudged a tear in the rubber matting with the toe of my boot. “Do you trust me?”
Ryan stopped lifting and looked at me. “Completely.”
“Out in the field?”
“Anywhere. With anything. If I had a sister, I’d let you date her.”
I laughed then because, if he had a sister, I absolutely wouldn’t date her. Dating wasn’t my thing, but apparently, that was my problem. Or at least, it was one of them.
When I didn’t answer, he asked, “Why?”
Ignoring him, I asked another question. “Do you think I’m likeable?”
Confusion was etched into his features, but he played along, and I loved that about him. “It’s unlike you to fish for compliments, but yeah, Archer, I think you’re a likeable guy. I don’t actually have a sister if that’s why you’re asking—”
“That’s not why I’m asking.” I lifted my weights again, letting his answers dance around in my head with everything the chief said.
“Then what’s up?” He started another set himself, and I appreciated his willingness to multitask with me. It was uncomfortable enough bringing any of this up in conversation, let alone having to stare into his eyes the entire time we had it.
Aside from being the happiest firefighter you’d ever meet, Ryan was also the most trustworthy and honest guy I knew. He’d take whatever I told him to his grave, which is what gave me the confidence to tell him the truth.
“Chief wants to promote me to lieutenant, but he’s not doing it because he doesn’t think I have anything going for me outside of this place.”
“Congratulations, man! That’s huge!” He slapped me on the shoulder.
“You can’t tell anyone. Besides, like I said, it hasn’t happened yet. I need to prove I have attachments first.”
“Well, do you?” His tone wasn’t judgemental, but the way he stared at me said that he suspected he already knew the answer.
“Not really, no.”
Ryan nodded thoughtfully. “Listen, I trust you with my life, and I think you’re a great guy, but I get what Abrams is saying. What we do . . . sure, it’s a passion, but it’s also only a job. And when you can no longer fight fires, who is Archer Mack?”
Well that level of profoundness was not what I was expecting out of our class clown. I nodded, already sinking deep in thought. He shoved his earbud back in, and resumed his workout without another word, which left me to do exactly what I’d come in here to do.
Without music of my own, and with the only clock in the room having run out of batteries months ago, I had no way of knowing how much time had passed between Ryan’s words of wisdom, and him collecting his things to leave. He clapped me on the shoulder on his way out, and I nodded in return.
Not long after, I re-racked my weights and left the gym too. The last thing I needed was to tire myself out too much, or strain myself to the point where I’d be rendered useless if a call came in.
The rest of my shift that day, and the next, went by too fast—we were busy.
A house caught fire from a frayed, exposed wire on a Crock Pot, and the whole kitchen was damn near unrecognizable once we managed to get it out.
Everyone had made it out okay, but the kitchen and parts of the living room were destroyed.
Our department made GoFundMe pages for the victims of home fires as a way to lessen the burden while families waited for insurance to come through, and like always, once we got back to the station, I snuck away and made a private donation to them.
Insurance covered some things, but it never covered enough.
The rest of our calls were relatively minor. A backyard fire that got a little out of hand, two car crashes because tourists visiting this town were both incredibly direction challenged, and drove far too fast, and a false alarm from a smoke detector at a local business.
With the exception of the kitchen fire, because those were a lot rarer than people would believe, it wasn’t anything too crazy or abnormal for us. It was just busy, evenly spaced throughout my forty-eight hours so that I never really got to get any sleep.
By the time my shift was over, I was almost too happy to follow Chief Abram’s orders and go home. I grabbed my bag from the bunk room, and left out the back door so I didn’t have to walk past the guys, not sure I was capable of anything other than unpleasant grunts.
My conversation with the chief had been on constant repeat in my head since I’d spoken with him, but the realization of what he was asking me to do was fully setting in. I strode across the parking lot, my teeth clenched, and my hands balled into fists.
Because merely finding something that gave me life apart from the station wasn’t going to be enough for the chief.
Simply picking up a hobby like axe throwing or wood carving, probably wasn’t going to cut it.
I was going to have to find a life, something to fight for, and I wanted to do that about as badly as I wanted to roll across a bed of flaming glass shards butt naked.
Actually, the bed of flaming glass didn’t sound half bad once the wind chill gusted over my skin on the ride back to my house.