Rescued By The Firefighter

Rand felt impatience kindle in his belly. “Chris. You have to come down, son.”

“I’m not your son.”

“No kidding.” Rand ground his teeth. This was no place for attitude. A burned limb could fall at any moment and crash into them both. But while he could think of a dozen retorts to Chris at the moment, not one of them would get the kid to climb to the ground. “If you don’t come down, I’ll come up and get you.”

“How?”

“Just like you did. Climb. Then I’ll tie a rope to you and lower you to the ground. Or you can stay there, where the burned bark will skin you alive. Your choice. But I’m not leaving here without you.”

“Why?”

“It’s my job.”

“Oh.” Chris started coughing. He cleared his throat. He coughed again. “I’m coming down.”

Rand knew that once Chris got past the living foliage and sturdy limbs, his descent was going to get rough. There was a good twenty feet of burned bark and sharp splinters on that half-denuded trunk. Rand could see jagged stubs of limbs on the trunk, but could Chris? Were they strong enough for him to get a foothold? Or would they break under his weight? Worse, would the kid make a jump for it and risk breaking a leg or ankle in his drop?

“Once you get to the last limb, Chris, I want you to take it slow. I’ll guide you down.”

“I don’t need your help, okay? I made it up here and I can make it down on my own.”

Rand heaved a frustrated sigh and put his hands on his hips. Beatrice certainly had her hands full with this one.

“You’re doing great,” Rand encouraged the boy as Chris moved down through the limbs and came to the burned part of the trunk.

Chris toed the trunk with his sneaker, searching for a foothold, but he found none. The boy grabbed the limb with both hands and lowered his feet farther down the tree, still looking for a brace.

“The trunk is too wide for you to hug and slide down. Plus, you’ll scrape your skin in the process,” Rand said. “Or...”

“Or?” Chris asked with just enough trepidation that Rand thought he might have made an impression on the kid.

“You can drop and I’ll catch you.”

“No way.”

“It’s okay, my body will cushion your fall.”

Chris peered down at Rand, his arms stretched over his head as he hung on to the limb. His knuckles had gone white and his fingers were starting to slip. The kid wouldn’t last much longer.

“Why?”

“There ya go with the questions again. Just drop.”

“You’re angry at me.”

“I’m getting there, yeah.”

Rand heard the hoses stop, then he looked up. The wind had died completely. Tiny pellets of long-overdue rain had started to sprinkle from the sky. A mist of droplets hit his face. It certainly wasn’t a downpour—only a gentle rain—but it was wet, nonetheless, and would ensure the fire was completely extinquished.

Rand heard one of the other firefighters shouting his name. He heard boots stomping over brush and smoldering leaves and nettles.

“My friends are coming.”

Chris coughed and that led to another cough. “I can’t breathe so good.”

“I can imagine,” Rand replied. Another minute of hanging from the limb and Chris would be in trouble. Rand needed the boy to try to aim for his outstretched arms.

“Chris, let go, and when you do, pretend you’re lying down horizontally. It’ll be like skydiving.”

“Rand!” a man’s voice shouted.

“Over here!” Rand replied as loudly as he could.

“You skydive?” Chris coughed out the words.

“Yes, Chris. Now, let go and do it!”

“Okay!”

Chris let go of the limb, flattened his back and closed his eyes.

Rand dug his heels into the ground, bent his knees to keep his back solid and reached out to catch the boy. Chris landed in Rand’s arms with a wallop. Rand had expected his biceps to sting with the sudden impact, but, like his brother, Chris was much lighter than he’d braced for.

Chris popped his eyes open, blinked and squirmed out of Rand’s arms.

“You’re safe,” Rand said. “Here, put this oxygen mask on. It will help you with the smoke inhalation.”

“I’m fine.” Chris pushed Rand’s hand away.

“Wear it!” Rand ordered and then clamped the mask over Chris’s face and put the elastic strap over his head, making sure the back was secure.

“Rand!” Another shout came toward him along with the sound of many boots crunching over the burned ground. Ted McIntyre and Manny Quale stood shoulder to Nomex-suited-shoulder in front of them.

“You found him,” Ted said, pointing with his gloved hand to Chris.

“He was up that tree.” Rand looked at Chris, who was staring at the smoking forest floor.

“I’ll go back for the paramedics,” Manny said.

“I’m fine,” Chris said sternly as he ripped off the mask, shoved it back to Rand, and marched away from Rand, Ted and Manny. “See?” He swung his arms as he walked away from them.

Both Ted and Manny looked back at Rand.

“What? No ‘thanks’?” Ted asked.

Rand shrugged his shoulders. “Apparently, he didn’t want to be rescued.”

“Oh,” Manny said. “One of those.”