It had become a part of me as much as breathing. Uncle Tom was my mom’s only brother and he said that it was genetic, since his father, my grandpa, was also a firefighter, and his father before him. I remember thinking that maybe that explained my natural obsession with the career.
There was a very dangerous stretch of highway that passed by Lincoln, and through a smaller town twelve miles north, Wheatland. There were also a lot of farms and rural roads in between the two towns. The roads were dangerous and difficult to navigate. Wheatland, where Megan seemed to be hiding in, had one fire truck and mostly ran off of volunteers. We helped out there as much as we could as well. Those three things made for a high 911 call volume for our station. Most days we were busy, but every couple of weeks we had a slow morning. Today was one of those mornings, so far.
Uncle Tom walked past me and patted my back as I washed out my mug in the sink. Outside of work, he was Uncle Tom, but at the station he was Chief Flattery. He was a short, round fellow with a bald head and rosy red cheeks. He had the same nose and cheeks as my mom. Uncle Tom was also very talkative and cheery like my mom. The similarities sometimes stung, but usually, most of the time, they made me feel calm.
My parents died in a car crash when I was a sophomore in high school, and it was hard on everyone. Both of my Grandparents had died when I was young. My Dad had one sister, my Aunt Mae. She lived with me until I graduated high school as my guardian, and we still keep in touch. Then, like I said, my mom only had my Uncle Tom. He lived out here in California. When Uncle Tom called me almost two years ago with a job at his station, I jumped at the opportunity to start anew and to be closer to him. My Aunt Nancy and Uncle Tom were great people to be around, so I spent a lot of time with them. They had a son, Tommy, and a daughter, Tori. They were six and eight years younger than me and went to college a couple of hours away. I got to see them every holiday, and here and there, and I enjoyed their company as well. I had made a life for myself over the last two years here and found myself slowly moving on. Now that I found Megan, I was glad I hadn’t settled down. Now I had a chance to see if we could ever be what we could have been.
I couldn’t not think about Megan when I kissed another girl, so I tried to avoid it altogether. I tried, but didn’t often succeed. Women became a vice for me and nothing more. I hated it, but no one seemed to fill the hole Megan left. Mostly I worked. I had worked so hard and so long that when I finally lifted my head, I’d realized that six years had gone by. Then I came here and things began to slowly feel right again. I felt alive again. When I saw Megan the other night, that feeling intensified. I knew that this—us running into each other—wasn’t a coincidence. There was a reason, and whatever had been between us, whatever she refused to acknowledge before, was still there. I knew I couldn’t let her walk away again, not without giving it all I had.
Megan
We walked behind a short, round man as he explained to us what we would see on the tour of the fire station. He turned around when he stopped in front of the firehouse door. I tilted my head a little bit and squinted my eyes, trying to place his face. He looked familiar, but not completely. His cheeks and eyes reminded me of someone, and the feeling made my heart beat faster. He cleared his throat and then spoke. “I am Chief Flattery, and I’m in charge here. As you can see, we just walked past our two fire trucks, and this is where we all live when we are on duty.” A couple of the boys in front of me whispered at the word “duty” and giggled. Chief Flattery cleared his throat again. “This way, folks.” I smiled. “Thank you, Sir.”
My students filed into the tight hallway and down to a large, open room. A long couch with a huge TV and a tiny coffee
There was a very dangerous stretch of highway that passed by Lincoln, and through a smaller town twelve miles north, Wheatland. There were also a lot of farms and rural roads in between the two towns. The roads were dangerous and difficult to navigate. Wheatland, where Megan seemed to be hiding in, had one fire truck and mostly ran off of volunteers. We helped out there as much as we could as well. Those three things made for a high 911 call volume for our station. Most days we were busy, but every couple of weeks we had a slow morning. Today was one of those mornings, so far.
Uncle Tom walked past me and patted my back as I washed out my mug in the sink. Outside of work, he was Uncle Tom, but at the station he was Chief Flattery. He was a short, round fellow with a bald head and rosy red cheeks. He had the same nose and cheeks as my mom. Uncle Tom was also very talkative and cheery like my mom. The similarities sometimes stung, but usually, most of the time, they made me feel calm.
My parents died in a car crash when I was a sophomore in high school, and it was hard on everyone. Both of my Grandparents had died when I was young. My Dad had one sister, my Aunt Mae. She lived with me until I graduated high school as my guardian, and we still keep in touch. Then, like I said, my mom only had my Uncle Tom. He lived out here in California. When Uncle Tom called me almost two years ago with a job at his station, I jumped at the opportunity to start anew and to be closer to him. My Aunt Nancy and Uncle Tom were great people to be around, so I spent a lot of time with them. They had a son, Tommy, and a daughter, Tori. They were six and eight years younger than me and went to college a couple of hours away. I got to see them every holiday, and here and there, and I enjoyed their company as well. I had made a life for myself over the last two years here and found myself slowly moving on. Now that I found Megan, I was glad I hadn’t settled down. Now I had a chance to see if we could ever be what we could have been.
I couldn’t not think about Megan when I kissed another girl, so I tried to avoid it altogether. I tried, but didn’t often succeed. Women became a vice for me and nothing more. I hated it, but no one seemed to fill the hole Megan left. Mostly I worked. I had worked so hard and so long that when I finally lifted my head, I’d realized that six years had gone by. Then I came here and things began to slowly feel right again. I felt alive again. When I saw Megan the other night, that feeling intensified. I knew that this—us running into each other—wasn’t a coincidence. There was a reason, and whatever had been between us, whatever she refused to acknowledge before, was still there. I knew I couldn’t let her walk away again, not without giving it all I had.
Megan
We walked behind a short, round man as he explained to us what we would see on the tour of the fire station. He turned around when he stopped in front of the firehouse door. I tilted my head a little bit and squinted my eyes, trying to place his face. He looked familiar, but not completely. His cheeks and eyes reminded me of someone, and the feeling made my heart beat faster. He cleared his throat and then spoke. “I am Chief Flattery, and I’m in charge here. As you can see, we just walked past our two fire trucks, and this is where we all live when we are on duty.” A couple of the boys in front of me whispered at the word “duty” and giggled. Chief Flattery cleared his throat again. “This way, folks.” I smiled. “Thank you, Sir.”
My students filed into the tight hallway and down to a large, open room. A long couch with a huge TV and a tiny coffee
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