"Thanks, man," I nodded as I focused my attention on scrubbing the eggs out of the frying pan Victor had used. I didn't want to turn Danny down, but I couldn't take on any more work than I already had and the problem was that I couldn't tell anyone about what I was doing; not even Danny. I laughed as I said, "I'm not that great with tools, so I'm probably not the guy you want working on million dollar houses."
"Awww, c'mon, Cam, I'll teach you," Danny pleaded. "I need good reliable guys on my team and you're one of my best friends."
"Alright, I'll think about it," I promised as I handed him the dripping wet frying pan. "I promise."
"I'll work on your team, Danny!" Victor called from the other room. "I can always stand to make a few extra bucks now and again."
"Yeah, okay, thanks Victor," Danny replied with a weak smile. None of us liked Victor Vangel. He was a cocky, arrogant jerk who took more than he gave and spent a lot of time grand standing and taking credit for things someone else had done. He had a huge chip on his shoulder and was so unpopular in the department that the brass had been unable to assign him to one fire house, so he ended up bouncing around and filing in for call-outs or sick leaves. Right now, he was filling in for Brent Jacoby who was out on paternity leave with his newborn twin daughters. Danny had a calendar in his locker where we marked off the days until Brent returned to work.
As of that day, we had twenty-seven days to go, and we were anxiously awaiting his return.
#
"Engine One, Truck One, Ambulance Fifty-Five, fire at Canal and Taylor in the Southern Market," the voice over the intercom announced as the alarm blared and we ran to grab our gear. Kelly was the first to the truck and was yelling at us to hurry up as he slammed the driver side door shut and cranked the engine. I hopped on with Danny not far behind, and before we knew it, we were flying down Wells on our way to the fire.
"Man, I hope it's not bad; I love that market," Danny said. "They have the best coffee beans and Italian sausages."
"That sounds like a disgusting combination, Newsome," I laughed as we sped down the street.
"Nah, man, it's the best breakfast ever! Fresh ground coffee beans, eggs and those sausages," he said smacking his lips. "My mom makes them for Sunday morning breakfast sometimes. Man, I'd cut off my right arm for those sausages."
"Be careful what you wish for, Newsome!" Mike called from the front seat as he hit the siren and turned on to Canal.
The building was definitely on fire, but it looked like a contained burn at the moment. We hopped out of the truck and started pulling hoses out as Mike hollered at the rest of the guys to grab gear and get ready to go in.
"You got this, Connor?" he yelled as he pulled on his helmet and strapped it below his chin. I nodded and he gave me the thumbs up. Despite the frigid temperatures, Danny and I knocked the ice off the hydrant and quickly hooked up the hose before hauling it to the entry of the building. Mike and Victor were quickly pulling out the employees who had barricaded themselves in the back room with a fire extinguisher rather than having exited into the freezing cold Chicago winter day. Mike waved me inside and I yelled at Danny to let her rip.
I shook my head, knowing that the most dangerous place in a building that was on fire was to be locked in a back room. Personal experience had taught me that the hard way, and the devastating loss had been my reminder every since.
One huge crank of the hydrant and the water shot out of the nozzle, dousing the flames as we moved forward. The rest of the guys focused on making sure that the flames hadn't spread into the walls or air ducts, and by the time we were done, the ground floor of the Southern Market, while saved from major structural damage, was a chaotic mess.
"All right, guys, the fire's out!" Mike yelled as he gestured toward the front door. "Shut down the hose!"
Danny ran outside and cranked the hydrant into the off position as I tugged the length of hose back out the door, feeling grateful that this hadn't been worse. Once Chief Riley had given the okay for vendors to return to the building to assess the damage, a wave of people went flooding through the doors. Danny and I finished packing up the hose and storing equipment before we swung ourselves back up into the truck and waited for Mike to rev the engine and take us home.
"You know, sometimes I think we're just the luckiest sons of bitches on the planet," Danny said shaking his head. "We live the life of Riley, you know?"
"Shut the hell up, Newsome," Mike yelled. "You're gonna jinx us if you talk about how damn lucky we are!"
Back at the fire house, I took Tesla out for a short walk and threw a ball for her a few times in the small, snow covered yard we had next to the station as I thought about everything I’d lost in the past decade. Tesla looked up at me and whined as I held the ball in my hand lost in deep thought. I threw it one more time, then I headed back inside to help check the gear, shower and then start cooking.
Newsome and I were scheduled for the lunch shift and were making spaghetti and meatballs for the crew, and after all the work we'd done, I was hungry enough to eat a whole pan of meatballs all by myself.
As I walked into the kitchen and rolled up my sleeves, my cell phone buzzed. I pulled it out of my pocket and saw a message from my best friend, Leo Marini, that said, "BIG CSC contract in the works. Call me or stop by after shift."
"Shit," I muttered as I stuffed the phone back in my pocket and turned my attention to making dinner.
"Something wrong, Cam?" Danny asked as he dumped package after package of ground beef into a bowl before adding eggs, breadcrumbs, fresh parsley and onions to the mix.
"Nah, all good," I said as I cranked the oven on and pulled out the baking sheets we'd use to cook the meatballs. "Leo just needs some help. That's all."
"Man, that dude needs to get a life," Danny said shaking his head. "Doesn't he have a job yet?"
"Yeah, he's working for some security company downtown," I said as I reached into the meat mixture and began shaping the meat into balls before putting them on the baking sheets. I shrugged, "He's got a lot of shit to work through."
"I'll say," Danny said. "That guy's got more baggage than an American Airlines check in counter!"
"You think that one up yourself?" I scoffed.