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Being in the Fire Was Better

By: billwendel



We'd had a bad one today. The gong of the alarm went off right at 5am on that October morning and we had hustled to get kitted up in our gear, Matt and Tommy once again racing each other to see who could be geared up and ready at the trucks first. The rookies of course had problems getting up at the gong, it takes awhile to get used to. I was up already, I rarely slept later than 3:30 anymore. Fucking insomnia. We hit the trucks and headed out to the fire. 

Me and Ricky were partnered as usual. Ricky was a good guy. I'd met him when I first joined the department and he had helped me get used to the routine of the firehouse. He had been married but on the rocks when I first met him. I later was his best man for his second marriage, and he was mine for my wedding. We headed into the four story burn as search and rescue. This building was known illegal housing for mainly bums and street orphans. Thing is for us, lives are lives. We don't care who you are, rich or poor, we come for you. And we will get you out. We had others with us be we preferred to send them to one floor while we took another. They were made up of mainly rookies and we didn't want to take them into the hotter floors. You have to learn to walk before you learn to run kind of thing. 

By the way, my name is Eric if it matters.

"Eric, any idea how many are in here"?

"Nobody said. But judging from the walk up I think most of them probably got out already".

We were on the third floor looking for survivors. The heat was bad but bearable and we had plenty of air in our tanks to breathe. We walked a bit more on three with no signs of people then headed to the fourth floor. The water coming in from outside was finally doing some good against the fire but we still had to be careful. Reports from below were that three had been found still alive and carried out. No fatalities so far. Not bad considering we had four floors burning. But Fate likes to get your hopes up.

Ricky saw them. What looked like a mother and her child collapsed on the floor. As he ran to them I got on the radio, turning toward our exit to make sure it was still clear. Force of habit. Training makes things automatic.

"We got two on the fourth floor. Bringing them down now. Everyone to the fourth for survivors. Fires been cooled". I shouted into the mike. Fucking radios are sketchy at best in buildings. Have to shout to be heard.

There wasn't much noise. Just the sound behind me of "Woomph". And then I turned to see an entire concrete wall had exploded and buried Rick and the woman and her child. I didn't even think. I rushed over and started grabbing and throwing chunks of brick and mortar. I could feel my hands burning but I ignored it. I had to get Ricky out. I was still pulling at the pile when the others got to us. They tried but there was too much and the breathing room we'd gotten from the hoses outside had dwindled. Suddenly the fire was rebuilding itself and the heat was increasing. They grabbed me to haul me back downstairs but I fought them. Kicking, hitting and screaming.

"Ricky!"

I was grabbed and forced out of the building. The call had come in, the building was now in danger of collapse and everyone out. All I can remember was trying to get back to Ricky. He had to be still alive. He couldn't die. The woman and her child at that point weren't even in my thoughts. But I had to get back to Ricky and get him out.

Then next half hour is blanked in my mind. I remember fighting on the third floor to get back to Ricky and then the next thing is sitting in an ambulance having my hands bandaged. Fortunately I hadn't hurt my hands too bad, second degree burns, but they still needed to be seen too and I was told to get them looked at by my doctor as soon as possible. I didn't pay the EMTs any mind. All I could think about was Ricky. I couldn't believe he was gone. I had loved him like he was my brother and now he was gone. I would have to attend his funeral. Christ, I was going to have to tell his wife. I didn't want anyone else to do it. Better me, someone thought of as family, than some unknown face.

By this time it was maybe 8am. I wasn't keeping track at that point. Too much had happened. I didn't even knock. I just walked into their house, Ricky and Carlee's. Carlee was already up and working in the kitchen. She saw me when I walked in. One look at my face and she collapsed. I was next to her in an instant, crying with her. We held each other for I don't know how long.

"Please tell me this is some sick joke, please."

"I'm sorry Carlee, I'm so sorry."

I held her for a while longer then helped her up and into bed. I stayed with her long enough to make sure she was asleep. When she wakes up later there will be a note from me promising to be there for her anytime she needs. Anything she needs. I love her like a sister just as I loved Ricky as a brother.

I left Ricky's house and went for a drive. I needed time to relax and try to get my head back together before I went home to Maria. I couldn't face her right now. I was too broken up. Pride is a problem of mine. I didn't want Maria to see me too broken up. I needed to get it together at least a little bit. I needed Maria to help keep me together and help me get past this but I had to try to pull it together at least a little. I stopped by a café for some coffee, not my usual thing but I needed something at that point and being an alcoholic I don't drink any more. Caffeine would have to do. Once my nerves were steadied, I went home.

I got home a good two hours earlier than usual. I had to fumble with the key because of the bandages but eventually was able to unlock the door and head in. Maria's car was here so I knew she was home. I was halfway up the stairs when I started to hear it. Moans and groans and pants, Oh my! I paused when I got to the top of the stairs. I was really hoping that I had things wrong. After this morning I didn't need any more bad news. But as I approached the bedroom I was forced into reality. The bedroom door wasn't even closed. All I had to do was peer in.

There was my loving wife being fucked by Carlee's brother, Carl. I just leaned against the doorframe listening to them. I don't really know why. Shock probably. I didn't get excited by it. I was saddened. Here was the end to my marriage and I just wanted closure. I listened for about 5 minutes before Maria saw me standing there.

"Oh my god, get off me. Get off me now!"

"Babe, what's up? We have another hour at least."

I stayed where I was, watching her try to get out from under a man twice her weight in muscle who hadn't yet seen me.

"Carl." I said "Your sister needs you. Her husband died today in a fire. Right now she needs family."

I really wanted to just walk in and throw him thru the fucking window but just couldn't bring myself to do it. The look on his face seeing me just standing there would have been priceless if I didn't understood the price being paid. He hurriedly got off the bed and put his clothes back on then edged past me thru the door. I never made a move on him.

"Ricky's dead?" Maria asked

I nodded "Yes. A wall collapsed on top of him and the victims he was rescuing. I bet his wife wasn't busy fucking someone else while he died." I left her with that while I went to the guest bedroom. I needed sleep. I locked the door and fell into bed.

I slept thru the day and woke up again around 3am. Waking up that early isn't all bad. I lay in bed and think about life. The way it is and the way it could have been. Those hours between 3 and when I have to get up at 7am are spent contemplating my life. The good and bad and how it could be better. They are comfortable hours. This morning tho they were hell. I remembered that Ricky is gone and that my marriage is over. I remembered that Ricky and my marriage were all I had. I have no children. I have a few friends, but Ricky and my wife Maria were my best friends. Now I'm alone. Ricky's widow will need me as a friend for awhile but how long will that last? And how long will I be able to cope with Carl without beating the shit out of him, not something that Carlee needs to put up with right now. 

I had to get away to get my head together. I called and found a hotel that rents by the week. Rent is kind of steep but I had to get away and I had put some cash aside. As soon as I was sure Maria was gone, after all, she had been waiting for me since before I woke up. I could hear her outside the door waiting, I headed to the bank. I emptied half our accounts into a personal account I created. Then killed all my credit cards. Maria was responsible for her own. I didn't think she would do anything to hurt me financially but I couldn't take the chance. After all, at one time I didn't think she would ever do anything to hurt me. 

I didn't go to an attorney immediately, I just didn't have it in me. I still loved her. I just couldn't find a way to forgive her and I sure as hell couldn't forget what she had done. So I went on in my own personal hell. I was given two weeks leave for personal time after Ricky died. I took it to try to get my head together. And as much as I hate myself for it, I can't deal with any excuse she has for her actions. I haven't even tried to listen to her excuses. Maybe that's my pride stepping in again. I don't know.

What I know is that there were two people I could depend on. One died. The other betrayed me. And I have absolutely no idea what to do. Christ, I wish I had died in the fire instead of Ricky. He had a wife that loves him. Turns out I don't.

Shithappens

Anyone who wishes to improve or imbellish this story is welcome to. I'm not claiming any copywrite. This is the best I could do. If someone can do better then please do. Also feel free to add to the story for a happy or unhappy ending. Don't bother asking my permission. Just do it.

Being in the Fire Was Better Ch. 02



First of all, the story isn't finished yet so stop judging the main character as a complete wuss. He went from one bad situation to another so shock is definitely a factor. Second, I got an anonymous about misspelling a word. I went thru the story a couple of times and found several misspellings and grammatical errors. Quit nitpicking. Third, I realized that my end of story aside sounded a bit whiney. That's my bad. And fourth, this part may deviate a bit from the end of part 1. Feel free to hold that against me. You bastards!

And thanks for everyone with the positive feedback. BTW, I screwed up while posting. This whole thing should be "Loving Wives". Anyone ever wonder why cheating husbands are considered "Erotic Couplings" instead of their own "Cheating Husbands"?

I woke up with a bad taste in my mouth, a head that was spinning and the humiliation of knowing I had fucked up. Here I am an alcoholic that didn't just fall off the wagon but jumped clean off. The empty bottle of Crown was proof of that. I cursed myself as I got up and started the shower. I wasn't going to fall like this. I had been sober for three fucking years till last night. I wasn't going to start drinking again. The one fall from grace was going to be the only fall.

A hot shower always makes you feel better. Hot water on stressed muscles. Clean soapy smell on your skin vs. the stink of sweat. My hands were hurting but they would just have to deal with it. I looked at my fingers and realized that the skin was beginning to scar. I may not have been burned bad enough to be hospitalized, but it was bad enough that my hands would be scarred for life. No biggie really. They were small scars compared. I stayed in the shower long after I was clean. I let the hot water run out. My god but it felt good.

I toweled off and got dressed. It was only 5am by this point and I wasn't about to wake up Carlee. I really needed to talk to her. I needed a shoulder to cry on and I sure as hell couldn't depend on Maria. Which is where the problem was. I wasn't ready to get a divorce. Shit, Maria and I may be able to work things out. I needed to understand why she cheated on me in the first place tho.

Don't get me wrong. I wasn't about to stay in a relationship I couldn't trust, but I was willing to let Maria have her say. No matter what she had done she deserved that at least. Maybe I had been cold and distant with her and didn't know it. Maybe she was just a cheating slut. But I WAS going to give her a chance. She would be allowed her say. But I wasn't ready to talk to her yet. I wondered what Carl had told Carlee if anything.

And as I thought of Carlee I thought too of Ricky. Ricky who had taught me the ropes. Ricky who had once pulled me back when part of a floor underneath me gave way. Ricky who I had once had to punch out because he was drunk and getting out of line, Ricky who had forgiven me. The Ricky that followed me into a burning house when we were both off-duty and helped pull the whole family out. I lead the way into that one with no equipment at all but he followed me in. I thought of Ricky and mourned the loss of my brother. Jesus, I loved him like he was my brother.

I sat on the bed and thought about me and Ricky for awhile. Everything we had been thru. When I next looked at the clock I realized it was after 9. Time to get things done. First item on the list, head back to the station and pick up my cell phone, wallet, keys and other personal effects. I wasn't quitting but I had left everything in my locker when we went to the last fire. I walked into the station and there was complete silence. Nobody wanted to talk to me and I was OK with that. I wasn't really in a conversational kind of mood. 

Clint came up to me. "You're wife has been calling every ten minutes. Can you give her a call to relax her? We didn't know what to tell her or where to reach you." 

"I'll be swinging by the house a little later. For personal reasons I'm not in the mood to talk to her right now. If she calls again just let her know I'll talk to her this evening." I told him.

I still needed time to think about where things were going to go from here and not just about my marriage. I wasn't sure if I wanted to do my job any more. I wasn't sure what would happen the next time I needed to walk into a fire again. Both because of what I saw happen to Ricky and the fact that he wasn't going to be with me any more. I was stuck and completely lost.

I headed back to the hotel and got my things together. I wasn't going to hide from my wife any longer. It was time to get things over with. And I owned the damn house. I sure as hell wasn't going to live somewhere else. But I was going to live in the guest room. I can't believe she fucked someone in our bed. Maria had a lot to answer for.

When I pulled in the house was dark and Maria's car wasn't there. I let myself in and moved myself into the guestroom. Pillows, blankets and toiletries, that kind of thing. We had a bookshelf in there and I moved several of my favorite titles to it. I figured I'd be staying for a while. I changed the sheets on the bed. They'd been there WAY too long. Finally I knew the room was mine.

I went to the living room to wait. I was not looking forward to Maria getting home and the argument that was going to happen. But shit happens, and you have to get it over with and done.

Around 8 she came in the door with her cell phone at her ear.

"I can't talk about it right now, mom. I just need to find Eric and straighten things out with him. I'll call you when I know something. Goodbye."

"I'm in here, Maria."

She looked a bit shocked when she came in and sat down on the other end of the couch from me.

"It's been going on for a year and a half, Eric. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Saying I was shocked by her statement would have been an understatement. First she blatantly admitted it with no denial, second it was going on for a year and a fucking half????

"A year and a half? Why?? Was there something I wasn't doing for you? Why?"

"The only part you played was the fact you were away too much. I'm sorry. You go off to the job and I don't know if you are coming home or not. You've told me about the guys that died or were hurt so bad that they may as well have died on the job. I've always been so scared. I watched "Ladder 49" and that just reinforced my fear. I never wanted to hurt you. But me and Carl started getting close at some point. Please listen. I didn't intend to cheat on you." She started crying.

"Carl didn't set out to seduce me. I know this. He is a kind and decent man."

"How long did it take him to start fucking you?"

"It wasn't like that. I needed someone to talk to when you weren't here. He had a good shoulder to cry on. He listened to my fears and worries. You weren't here. When I worried about you he was here to listen."

I sat and looked at her. I remembered our time together. I remembered a few arguments. I remembered our wedding and as many of the good times as I could.

"So what do you want? Do you want a divorce" I asked. "Do you want to be free and clear to see Carl"?

"I want my husband to love me more than his job. That's all."

She was on her knees now as she said that. I could understand it. Firemen and police didn't always have successful marriages.

"I may be done with the job. After losing Ricky I don't know if I can go back. But I also don't know if I can trust you."

She started crying and headed upstairs to her room.

I hated hurting her. But I didn't know what to do at this point. I didn't believe she was just a cheating slut in any way. The whole situation was complicated. I did know that her contact with Carl was now dead if she wanted us to work.

I finished my drink and went upstairs to our bedroom. I closed the door and slid under the covers. Someone had to make the attempt to fix our marriage. I pulled her to me.

I just hoped that I could save it. I love my wife.