24. Ethan
Chapter 24
Ethan
A va pushed her cereal bowl away, barely touched. In all my years of parenting, the only times she’d ever turned down breakfast were when she’d been ill.
“Everything all right, kiddo?” I asked, setting down my coffee mug.
For a horrible moment, I wondered if she’d seen Lily’s text message on my phone. But Lily had sent it late last night, and Ava had just gotten up. There was no way I was going to tell her Lily wanted to cut off all communication. It would have broken her. It was already breaking me.
Ava fidgeted with the hem of her t-shirt, her blue eyes fixed on the floor. “Dad, if I tell you something, do you promise not to be mad?”
My heart clenched. “I promise to try. What is it?”
She took a deep breath. “I finally finished it. Firefighter Daddy . Ms. Brown’s been helping me with it. Ever since my diagnosis, she’s been really kind to me. She says I can read it out to the class.”
I smiled widely. “Why would I be mad about that? That’s awesome, Raver.”
She grimaced. “You haven’t read it yet.”
I looked at my watch. “We’ve got ten minutes before you have to leave for school. Why don’t you show me?”
Ava’s face lit up. “Really? You promise you won’t get angry about it?”
“Cross my heart,” I said, making the gesture, though I really didn’t know what I could possibly be angry about.
Ava dashed to her backpack and pulled out a stack of papers held together with a binder clip. My eyebrows shot up as I recognized the crude drawing on the cover—a familiar firefighter in a red helmet. I remembered Lily drawing that helmet and Ava coloring it in. I tried not to think about Lily. This was about Ava.
“Here it is,” she said, handing it to me with a mix of pride and nervousness in her eyes. “I rewrote some of the start. Updated it.”
I flipped through the pages, my chest tightening at the sight of her messy handwriting and colorful illustrations. My little girl had created all of this? I couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride, mixed with a twinge of guilt for not having paid more attention to her project.
“Once upon a time,” I began reading aloud, “there was a daddy who was a mechanic.”
“Not a firefighter?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
Ava shook her head. “Not at the start, Dad. He has to go on a journey. That’s what Lily taught me. You start out with the characters kinda . . . ordinary.”
I swallowed hard at the mention of Lily’s name but pressed on. “The daddy worked all day and all night, fixing cars and trucks and sometimes even boats. The daddy had a little girl who was having trouble with her schoolwork. She couldn’t read the words right, and the letters got all jumbled up in her head.”
I paused, looking up at Ava. She was watching me intently, biting her lower lip.
“Is this about your Irlen Syndrome?” I asked gently.
She nodded. “Ms. Brown says it’s okay to write about it. That it might help other kids understand.”
I felt a lump form in my throat. “That’s really brave of you, Ava.”
Turning back to the story, I continued reading. “But then, a magical book fairy appeared! She had sparkly wings and could make words stay still on the pages.”
My voice caught. The book fairy. Lily. Of course.
“The fairy helps the little girl with her reading,” Ava explained, her voice soft. “And she gives the daddy time to follow his dream of becoming a firefighter.”
I held Ava close as I turned the page, revealing a breathtaking illustration of a starry night sky. “One night,” I read, my voice barely above a whisper, “the fairy and the family looked at the stars together.”
“The little girl made a wish on a shooting star,” Ava said, her finger tracing the glittery streak across the page.
“What did she wish for?” I asked, though I had a sinking feeling I already knew the answer.
She looked up at me, tears in her eyes. “She wished that the fairy and the daddy would fall in love and that they would be a big family together.”
I swallowed hard, feeling my own eyes start to burn. “Is that what you wished for, Ava? On our night together with Lily?”
“I can’t tell you, Daddy. If I do, it might not come true.”
I nodded and gave her a little squeeze, trying to hide the conflict raging inside me. How could I tell her that Lily wanted to cut off all communication? That the fairy in her story wanted to fly away and never come back?
Ava turned another page, revealing a riot of color. “The wish came true, and after they fell in love, they had a big wedding! With unicorn warriors and rainbow lions and lots and lots of baby fairies!”
She turned to a final page. The fairy, firefighter, and little girl were hugging, and a speech bubble was coming out of the little girl’s mouth: “Your my heero, Daddy.”
I felt devastated. I’d never cried at a book before.
“Are you all right, Daddy?” Ava said, looking up at me.
“Yeah. I’m perfect. You wrote a very moving book, Ava.”
“You’re crying.” She looked shocked. “You never cry.” Her own eyes were wrinkling, now, and tears welled in them. “What’s wrong?”
“Dads cry sometimes,” I said.
“Daddy,” she cried, “I want Lily back.” She buried her face in my chest.
“I know darling. I want her back, too.”
Ava looked up at me, her face streaked with tears. “Then why won’t you ask her?”
I took a deep breath, feeling my own eyes start to burn. “Because . . . I’m scared.”
And just like that, the dam broke. We held each other, crying together, all our pent-up emotions flowing freely. I wanted, so desperately, to be a hero for Ava. But I didn’t know how.
***
That evening, I headed out to the fire station for my scheduled training shift. Susie was sleeping at mine so she could take care of Ava. The training had cranked up a notch lately. After weeks of rigorous preparation, we were starting to go on some real call-outs.
So far, most of the emergencies I’d been allowed to assist with had been relatively minor. Small kitchen fires that were quickly contained. A couple of minor blazes in surrounding woodland that mainly involved cleanup and ensuring no hot spots remained. We’d even been called out to rescue a cat from a tree, which had been more challenging than I’d anticipated.
As I sat in the station going over protocols with some of the other trainees, my mind kept drifting back to Ava’s story. The image of the firefighter and the book fairy was stuck in my head. Along with my daughter calling me her hero.
When the shrill alarm pierced through the station, I jumped to my feet along with the others. My heart raced, a mix of adrenaline and nerves flooding my system. Every call was a new experience, a chance to learn and prove myself.
It was a moment later when the chief’s voice boomed through the speakers.
“Apartment fire on Maple Street! All hands on deck. Trainees McCoy and Rodriguez, gear up. You’re coming along on this one.”
I exchanged a quick glance with Rodriguez, seeing my own mix of excitement and nervousness mirrored in his eyes. This was bigger than anything we’d faced before. As we rushed to don our gear, I took a deep breath, trying to recall every bit of training we’d gone through. Tonight, I might finally get to put all that preparation to the test in a real, high-stakes situation.
Maple Street wasn’t far from Main Street in the center of Bluehaven Beach. There were a couple of small apartment buildings on the street. A fire in any of those buildings could be disastrous.
As we screeched to a halt outside the blazing apartment complex, chaos erupted around us. Thick, black smoke billowed from shattered windows, and terrified residents huddled on the sidewalk.
“McCoy!” Mitch barked. “Help Sam with the hose!”
I rushed to assist, my hands steady as I gripped the heavy equipment. As a trainee, I knew my role, and I was determined to prove myself.
Suddenly, a frantic woman grabbed Mitch’s arm. “Please!” she cried. “My neighbor—I think he’s still inside! Top floor, apartment four!”
Mitch nodded grimly. “Team One, we’ve got a possible victim inside. Top floor, apartment four. Let’s move!”
As Team One geared up, I focused on my task with the hose. Sam and I worked efficiently, providing crucial support as Team One entered the building.
Minutes that felt like hours passed. Suddenly, I heard Mitch’s voice crackle over the radio: “Victim located, but Johnson’s tank is running low. We need another oxygen tank at the entrance, stat!”
Without hesitation, I called out to Sam, “I’ve got this! Keep the water flowing!” I sprinted to the truck, grabbing a spare oxygen tank, and rushed towards the building entrance.
As I approached, Johnson emerged from the smoke, supporting an unconscious figure. My heart nearly stopped as I recognized that shock of bright blond hair. It was Vlad Stokes.
“McCoy! Tank, now!” Johnson shouted, his breathing labored.
I quickly handed over the oxygen tank, helping Johnson secure the mask on Vlad’s face. As we moved away from the building, Johnson stumbled, clearly exhausted.
“I’ve got him,” I said, taking Vlad’s weight. Johnson nodded gratefully and moved to help the others.
As I started to carry Vlad toward the paramedics, a sudden, ominous creaking sound came from the building. I looked up to see the roof above apartment four starting to sag dangerously.
“Look out!” I yelled, my firefighter training kicking in. I tightened my grip on Vlad and sprinted away from the building, my heart pounding.
Seconds later, there was a deafening crash as part of the roof collapsed, sending a shower of embers and debris into the air. The force of it knocked us both to the ground, and I instinctively covered Vlad with my body as hot ash rained down around us.
When I looked up, I saw flames erupting with renewed vigor from the collapsed section. I hefted Vlad up, noticing a nasty gash on his forehead from our fall. The oxygen mask had been knocked loose, so I quickly readjusted it as I half-carried, half-dragged him away from the danger zone.
“Stay with me, Vlad,” I muttered, feeling his chest rise and fall against me. As we reached the paramedics, Vlad’s eyes fluttered open, and he coughed violently.
“Easy there,” a medic said, helping him onto a stretcher.
Vlad’s gaze darted around wildly until it landed on me. Recognition dawned on his face, followed by confusion. “Ethan?” he croaked. “What are you doing here?”
“Saving your ass.”
He looked back at the apartment building, then wiped his face, wincing as he touched the gash on his forehead. There was genuine shock in his eyes. “You . . . you saved me?”
I nodded, feeling a complex mix of emotions. “Well, I was part of a team, but . . . yeah, I guess I did.”
He reached out, grabbing my arm with surprising strength. “Thank you,” he said, his voice raw with sincerity. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I need to ask you something.” He coughed roughly. “Apologize to Lily for me?”
I frowned, caught off guard by the sudden mention of Lily. “What are you talking about, Vlad?”
He looked away, shame written across his face. “I sent her a stupid message. She rejected me, of course. So I got nice and drunk. Had a couple of joints. Passed out. I’m an asshole. Say sorry for me.”
I felt a pang of sadness. “Lily and I don’t really talk anymore.”
His eyes widened. “Why? You two . . . you’re perfect for each other.” He coughed again, and the paramedics prepared to move him.
I knew I shouldn’t say anything, but I couldn’t resist. “Thought you said she’d get bored of me. That I wasn’t exciting enough for her.”
Vlad shook his head weakly. “I was just jealous. Truth is, I'm a fuck-up. But you . . . you’re a good man, Ethan. That’s what she needs.” He smiled faintly. “A brave man. A hero.”
As they wheeled him away, I stood there, stunned. Vlad’s words echoed in my head, mixing with the cacophony of sirens and shouts around me.
Suddenly, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned to see Mitch, his face streaked with soot but wearing an expression of unmistakable pride.
“Well done, McCoy,” he said, his voice gruff but warm. “Your quick thinking and actions made all the difference today. You went above and beyond what we expect from a trainee. You should be proud.”
I nodded, a lump forming in my throat. “Thank you, sir.”
Mitch nodded. “By the way, your head is bleeding. Make sure you get it checked out by the paramedics, son.”
As Mitch moved away to coordinate with the other firefighters, I took a deep breath, letting his words sink in.
An hour later, I had been checked over by the paramedics and given a couple of butterfly stitches for a wound. Now, I was driving home, the acrid smell of smoke and the iron tang of blood clinging to my clothes and skin. My muscles ached, and exhaustion tugged at me, but my mind was racing.
As I pulled into my driveway, I saw something: a flash of red fur. A fox? Maybe it was the fox. The one I’d seen at my garage.
I got out of my car, but the fox didn’t run. It looked curious. I kneeled down, and the quiet, beautiful creature padded toward me.
Each step it took made me catch my breath until it was right in front of me.
I didn’t shout. I didn’t flinch.
It sniffed me once, and then calmly, confidently I reached my hand out and stroked its bristly, but warm fur. Then, a moment later, it disappeared into the bushes.
I felt a thrill bloom in my chest. I was brave. I didn’t need to be afraid of anything.
Not even love.