Cherry (chapter 8)

***Read the first seven or you’ll be lost! Thanks for reading.

Chapter 8


I had a dream that I was watching TV when I suddenly felt a familiar presence. I looked over at the couch and Katie was watching TV with me. She still wore her blinding-white dress, but she looked nervous for some reason.

I said, “Hello, Katie. I haven’t seen you in a while. How are you?”
Katie said, “Hi. I’m ok, I guess. But I’m scared about something.”
I asked, “Why? What’s the matter?”
She looked at me and said, “I’m going to be on TV tomorrow and I’m scared you won’t see me. You have to see me!”
I tried to calm her and said, “I’ll watch as much as I can, but I have to work. Do you know what channel I should watch or when?”
Katie seemed confused and unsure how to answer before saying, “I think there’s only one channel to watch. I guess it’s an old TV because it’s small and there’s no color. But you have to watch it! Promise me you’ll watch?”
I said, “You mean I have to watch one TV in particular?”
Katie just nodded her head.
I asked, “Do you know where this TV is? I don’t know of any black and white TV’s that only get one channel.”
Katie said, “It’s at the fire station… I have to go now.”
I said, “But we don’t have any TV’s like that at the station house.”
She repeated, “I have to go…” and she was gone.

I woke up and found the dream so strange yet seemingly important that I made a note about it before going back to sleep.

The next day Cherry called Olivia from work to tell her our decision. Olivia was really excited and said that they would start getting some necessary paper work together and we’d schedule a session at a later date—once everything was in order. I had no idea what paper work they had in mind (seemed like such a simple thing to me) but I didn’t argue the point. It was their ‘show’, after all.

It was just after noon when we got called out to assist another station house with a structural fire. The structure turned out to be a higher end apartment complex. I never liked apartment fires for several reasons. For one, it was ‘close to home’ since I lived in an apartment. Also, because of so many different types of people living there, neighbors frequently knew nothing about each other; preferring to keep to themselves. Subsequently, you couldn’t rely on them to know who was home and who was not. That meant door to door searches for smoke inhalation victims—human and pets. Some pets were friendly; others—not so much. Another reason I disliked them was management. Managers were frequently uninformed or, worse, misinformed about important details like ‘is the power secured?’ or ‘is the gas main turned off?’ or ‘what is the construction of the building?’

We rolled to a stop and got to work. The primary team was on scene before we got there and had command. They were working on clearing the apartments and laying out hoses to combat the fire. The fire was isolated to the kitchen in one apartment on the top floor, so it looked like we would have it under control pretty quickly.

The manager (as per usual) couldn’t say for sure what the construction of the building was—he was new. But he said for certain the power was off and they were working on the gas main. ‘Super’…

I grabbed a device known as a fire finder and only then did I remember my dream from the night before. A fire finder would seem sort of like a black and white TV to a kid Katie’s age. In actuality, it’s a thermal camera that displays a black and white image on a small video screen. It can see through the thickest, blinding smoke with ease and clarity by sensing differences in temperature. Not only is it great for finding where the flames are, but it’s perfect for finding passed out victims!

We were told to assist in clearing the top floor and once clear, to ‘put the wet stuff on the hot stuff’. But we had to wait to get the word about the gas main being secured first before entering the space to combat the fire. We could hear the roof man cutting the hole through the roof to give the fire a path to draw oxygen (which is how you avoid a face full of flames when you open the door to enter the apartment—also known as a back draft). The word on securing the gas main seemed to take forever, but when we got it, we entered the apartment to start doing what we do best. From the hole in the roof and the now blown out windows, the apartment was clear enough that the fire finder was not needed and I let it hang from the wrist strap.

Brian was the nozzle man and he opened the bale to start fighting the fire. We got low to the floor to dodge the sudden rise in temperature. Most people don’t realize that it actually gets hotter inside a building when you start putting water on the fire. The heat flushes out along the ceiling and hits you right in the face if you are standing up and, even with the air pack on, it’s suffocating! But if you get low, the heat just rolls along the ceiling—passing over you.

What happened next occurred so fast, I couldn’t say what happened first. There was a whistling sound that I first thought was the wind coming through the open window. But the pitch began increasing rapidly until I couldn’t really hear it anymore. The fire in the kitchen suddenly shot up like a laser to the ceiling and it sounded like a small bomb went off on the floor below us.

Something was wrong and I could feel it. I looked through my fire finder and was astonished at what I saw. The screen was mostly white from the heat and there was flame spewing out from behind the stove like it was under pressure.

I keyed my radio and yelled, “Are you sure the gas main is off?! I got flame shooting out from the walls in here!”

I looked again in my fire finder while waiting for a response and couldn’t believe what I saw. Right in the middle of all that white was a black area about four and a half feet tall. Having black on my screen made no sense because black indicates a cool spot. As my mind tried to wrap around it, I suddenly recognized a clear shape—it was Katie. She stood rigid with her arm extended out straight; her finger pointing the way out while she was screaming and all I could hear was the whistle of escaping gas. I saw her mouth clearly form the words ‘GET OUT!’ as jet black tears flowed down the cheeks of her panic stricken face. The sound of creaking wood filled the room.

I dropped the fire finder and grabbed the handle on Brian’s pack, pulling him backwards while shoving Garry (who was behind me), yelling, “OUT! EVERYONE GET THE FUCK OUT!”

Brian and Garry simultaneously asked, ‘What the fuck?!’ while trying to retreat with the hose.
I yelled, “LEAVE IT! RUN!!!”

Brian instinctively threw the lever on the bale forward; killing the water flow from the hose. They did as I ‘suggested’ and we all ran for the door. The moment we cleared the doorway, the entire roof collapsed in a massive pile of burning debris on top of where we had been fighting the fire. The gas main had not been secured after all and was super-fuelling the fire, burning through the roof far too quickly. The apartments were constructed of what is known as light wood. It’s a cheap building material that just crumbles easily when it burns. Who ever gave the ‘ok’ to use it for an apartment should be in prison: the only thing it’s good for is a bonfire in my opinion. Moments after the roof came down the floor fell through, too. We made a hasty retreat from the apartment which was now fully out of control.

We regrouped outside and Chief asked, “What the hell happened in there?”
He already knew what happened, of course. But I answered anyway, “Gas is still on. Roof and floor caved in.”
Chief replied as calmly as he could, “No shit,” but I could see he was pissed and wanted to find the guy that said the gas was off. But now was not the time; there was still a lot of work to do…

Before the fire was out, three more stations were called in to help get control. It should have been a simple call out, but because of shitty (no other word is appropriate in this case) building materials and equally lacking quality of knowledge on how to turn off the gas main, nearly 30 families lost everything and were homeless by dinner time. Thankfully, no one was injured in the calamity but, for certain, there would have been three deaths if not for Katie. Surviving that collapse would have been impossible.

By the time I got home that night, the story had already been the lead story on the evening news. I called her to tell her what was going on, that I’d be late and not to worry. But she stayed up anyway. And, even though I had a shower at the station house, she still noticed the smell of smoke on me. I went to get a second shower so she wouldn’t have to smell smoke all night long; she joined me.

Standing under the hot water, Cherry just wanted to hold on to me for a while, her head resting on my chest. Eventually she grabbed the body wash and gently began soaping me up so I did the same for her in return. When we finished washing, Cherry finally asked about my day.

She said quietly, “Something is bothering you; I can tell. Is it about the fire today? Was it bad?”
I answered, “It had the potential of being bad. But no one got hurt so it wasn’t that bad.”
Cherry thought for a second and said, “You don’t want to tell me. Do you?”
I let out a deep sigh and said, “It’s not that I don’t want to tell you; it’s just you’d probably think I was crazy or delusional or something.”
She replied with a wink, “You ARE crazy; nothing new there!” Then she dropped the humor and said, “David, you know you can tell me anything.”

I said, ‘ok’ and proceeded to tell her the full story: how I had the dream about Katie; the ‘TV’ she wanted me to watch; the apartment fire; and, ultimately, seeing Katie through the fire finder and telling us to get out seconds before the building collapsed. Cherry just listened in silence; making no attempts to dismiss it away as a case of imagination or some other ‘logical’ explanation. Instead, she just hugged me tight to her and said, ‘thank you, Katie’. Physically and emotionally exhausted, we went to bed.

The next morning, I called Bill (Katie’s Dad) and told him about what had happened the previous day. He stayed quiet throughout the explanation and I wondered if he even believed me. When I finished the story and he still didn’t say anything more than an accepting ‘ok’, I was sure he didn’t believe me.

I said, “I know how crazy it seems, Bill. But I have no reason to make this up; I hope you believe me.”
Bill said, “No, I know you wouldn’t make it up; I believe you. Thank you for telling me—I just don’t know what to say about it.”

I told him that I understood and the conversation struggled to continue after that. I ended it by assuring him that I would let him know if anything else happened and he again said he would do the same for me.

Cherry continued battling Morning sickness for a week or so, and I got up with her each time. Right around the time the sickness subsided for good, Olivia and Amanda called to ask when they could see us about our agreement. We set a date to meet at our place to discuss the details. They were excited and nervous at the same time. Quite frankly, I was a bit nervous, too.

The day came for the meeting and Cherry was still not showing since she was only about two months along. And, just as Olivia had done about the news of her getting married, she chose not to tell them about her pregnancy. Amanda and Olivia handed us a packet of papers which prompted us to ask what it was for. All of the papers, they explained, were for our benefit. The packet included things like notarized statements that said we (I) would not be responsible for any child support; there were medical lab results that showed they were free of any diseases (like STD’s); the list went on from there, but it looked like it was all professionally prepared and it seemed a bit unnecessary, but we said nothing. There was nothing for us to sign, so it wasn’t like we could object to any of it—they were basically giving us rights! I told them again about my two requirements and they both agreed in unison. I offered them to see my lab results from just before Cherry and I got married, but, unconcerned, they turned the offer down.

With everyone ‘on the same page’ for the arrangements, I said, “I guess all we need to do now is figure out when you want to do this and where?”
They both said without skipping a beat, “As soon as possible for you two.”
That took me by a little surprise and before I could mention checking my work schedule, Cherry offered, “We aren’t doing anything today—if today is good?”

We all looked at each other and couldn’t figure out a reason for ‘why not’ and I asked, “Where are we going, then?”
Olivia said, “We are staying at a nice hotel a few miles from here. Shall we go there?”
Once again before I could answer, Cherry said, “That sounds good—let’s go!”

We followed Olivia and Amanda to their hotel and Cherry and I talked more about what we were doing.

I said, “I have to be honest: I’m a little nervous about this.”
Cherry said, “Well, I think what you are doing for them is great. Most guys wouldn’t do what you are doing.”
I looked at her for a second to see if she was making a joke and said, “Are you kidding me? MOST guys would JUMP at the chance to do this!”
She replied, “Yeah but, the difference is all about motivation. For them, the motivation is about getting laid in a three way with two hot lesbians. But you didn’t want to help them at first; you’re only doing it because I said it would be ok with me and a nice way to repay Olivia. You won’t even do it unless I’m there—that speaks volumes to your motivation.”
Knowing she was right, I said, “Yeah, I guess so. But I’m still nervous.”
Cherry said, “There’s nothing to be nervous about; believe me. I used to help Olivia all of the time, remember? Just ‘know your heart’ and you’ll be fine!”
I thought for a few moments and decided to see what she thought about having the shoe on the other foot. I asked, “What if two guys wanted you to carry a baby for them? Would you do that?”
Without needing to consider it, Cherry said, “Not a chance! But that’s different!”
I asked, “How is that different?”
She said, “How is it the same?! It’s completely different! Carrying a baby for nine months is a long commitment. You aren’t going to be doing this for the next nine months; once one of them is pregnant, you’re part is done. Plus, once you are done, your body goes right back to normal; you aren’t going to gain 40 pounds and swell up like a balloon and have stretch marks or have a doctor cut your crotch so you can push out a cannon ball from between your legs. Making a baby is easy—HAVING a baby is different! No: the only one I’m ever going to have babies for is you.”
I thought for a second and said, “I guess you have a point there.”
She added, “Besides, no guy ever helped me the way Olivia did, so…you know.”

We pulled into the parking lot and parked next to our friends.