OUT OF THE ASHES
1983
All Captain John Gage could think of was taking a nice hot shower and climbing into bed when he got home. For the last two weeks, he and his crew had been battling a series of wildfires the likes of which the county of Los Angeles had never seen. Those in charge were calling on the resources of the state, bringing firefighters from as far away as Sacramento and far south of San Diego. The Santa Anas were howling winds of death and destruction and he was bone tired and emotionally spent. Lucky only one of his crew had been slightly injured.
Pulling into his street, he noticed the fire had touched even his small neighborhood; he found traces of burnt roofs, singed front yards and other signs of fire damage. Once near his house, with his car windows open, he smelled the sickening sweet smell of fire destruction; his mouth dropped open driving into his driveway. Getting out of his car he stared at was once his home and haven. Nothing remained but charred timbers and foundation.
He continued to stare at the remains of his home. Being a firefighter he had taken all the necessary precautions, keeping the undergrowth down, making sure there was nothing for twenty feet. However, Santa Anas had a mind of their own, blowing embers from the fires into eaves and attics and quickly destroying the property. Putting his hands on his hips he took in the fire ravaged remains and then noticed his small barn had also been destroyed. His beloved horse was gone too.
John sighed heavily. It seemed natural to end a totally crappy year to begin with; he had lost his bride and best friend and now he had lost everything else. But he was too tried to think or feel anything. Numbed at the sight, his mouth open and his mind blank he stared blinked his eyes a few times, hoping the nightmare would disappear. Gage finally figured out someone was talking to him. Through the haze of his muddled brain he identified his next door neighbor, Al Martini, a retired smoke eater.
"Johnny, you okay?" the old man asked and coughed. "Johnny."
"Hey Al," Johnny replied, his voice devoid of emotion as he continued to look at the remains of his house. Through the few standing timbers he saw two pristine picnic tables, often where he entertained guests along with his barbecue, which also was untouched by the fire.
"So you're finally back huh? How long?" Al put his hands on his friend's shoulder.
"Um, four days," Johnny said recalling the lecture to get lots of sleep since there would be more fires to come.
"That enough time, Johnny?" Al looked at his shocked neighbor.
"Yeah sure, some sleep and something to eat and I'll be good as new," Johnny sighed, thinking of everything of value he had lost in the fire. His paramedic certificate, his commendations, his photos of his family-it was all gone, nothing but ashes and memories now.
"Well, how about some breakfast then?" Martini asked hopefully wondering when the man would break. "Oh, one other thing Johnny, I got your horse over at my place."
Johnny nodded, "thanks I appreciate that. I'll pay you for boarding her." Gage looked at the ground and then at his house. "Yeah, breakfast sounds good; all I could think of was getting home."
"Sure Johnny," Al softly took John's arm and led him to his house. Opening the door, the old smoke eater placed Gage on the couch and looked at him. Gage's brown eyes still had a glazed, shocked look, his mouth was in a frown and he looked utterly lost.
Sitting there, Johnny stared into nothing. All he could see was the charred remnants of his house, a house he had worked hard for and it was gone, gone.
"Let me take off your shoes. You must be dead on your feet. I can remember working them brush fires, man my dogs was tired," Al gently untied Gage's shoes and removed them.
"Yeah, yeah they were-tired I mean," Johnny wrapped his arms around his chest, suddenly feeling cold.
"Here use this," Al placed a brightly colored afghan over the now freezing captain.
"Thanks Al, I really appreciate this," Johnny yawned.
"Well why don't you take a catnap while I make breakfast, huh?" Al squeezed the man's shoulder as he headed toward the kitchen.
"Well, I'll close my eyes for a few minutes, Al. Boy could I use some coffee," Johnny yelled to Al. Before long he smelled the sweet nectar and closed his eyes.
##########
When Johnny opened his eyes again, he found himself prone on the couch staring at the ceiling and it was dark. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and sat up; looking through the big picture window he could see the outlines of what had been his house. The nightmare had been real.
"Hey Johnny, have a good sleep?" Al came in a placed a cup of hot coffee in his hands.
"Yeah, I guess," Johnny shrugged, feeling he might never ever get a good night's sleep again.
"Up for some leftover spaghetti?" Al stood up and headed towards the kitchen.
"Hell yeah, and your garlic bread and . . ." John's voice trailed off. Martini had made the best spaghetti he had ever tasted, better than engineer Mike Stoker, now Captain. Al took two days to make it and leftover it was even better.
Al came back in the living room. "You can take a shower and I took out some of Chip's old clothes. He's about your size." He spoke proudly of his son, now in college, learning to be a doctor.
"Yeah, with an extra twenty pounds on me," John commented.
"Johnny they're sweats, okay? Besides its just one night," Al laughed.
"Yeah, thanks Al. I'll go get cleaned up," John found his legs shaky and the smoke eater was quickly by his side.
"You okay pal?" Al's concerned eyes took him in.
"Nothing a hot shower and a good meal won't fix. Thanks again," Johnny made his way to the bathroom and took a nice long hot shower. Finding the sweats he pulled them on over just his underwear and realized this had been his only pair.
Walking back into the living room he found the baseball game was on the TV and Al had set the table. Garlic and butter filled the room and his stomach grumbled in protest. Yes, a meal would ease some of this trouble. There was a large bowl of spaghetti, a large salad and a plate of garlic bread. Heaven.
By his second plate of spaghetti life was looking better.
"Oh, while you were asleep I called headquarters," Al stated
Johnny choked on his wine. "You did what?" He glared at his friend.
"What? Somebody had to be told, Johnny. You just can't go back to work," Al explained.
Finishing off his wine he looked at Al. "Who did you talk to?"
"Someone named Stanley, seemed to have known you, said to take as much time as you need. Just to let you know all the insurance companies will be at the high school, day after tomorrow," Martini smiled.
"You think of everything don't cha?" Johnny took a few more bites of bread. "Man, I'm beat. I'll call headquarters tomorrow and get things worked out, 'kay?"
"Yeah, 'kay. Good night Johnny," Al watched his tired, exhausted and emotionally spent friend get up from the table. He walked hunched over as he made his way to the guest room.
Crawling into bed, Johnny welcomed the darkness and dreamed of nothing.
###########
Waking up the next morning he looked at the small alarm clock next to the bed and saw it was ten a.m. God, I could still sleep for a week. Reluctantly he got out of bed and made his way to the kitchen and started coffee. Johnny went out to the porch and found the paper. Opening it up he found the fires were still front page news, only now it was better as the fires were ninety percent contained.
Drinking the coffee from a big mug, he went to the phone and punched in the numbers.
"Chief Stanley please," Gage turned the paper to the sports page, checking on his beloved Dodgers.
"Hello," Stanley's reassuring voice answered.
"Hey Cap," Gage called.
"John, how the hell are you?" Concern and worry were etched in Stanley's voice.
"As well as can be expected," Johnny stated.
"Well like I told Al you can take as much time as you need, pal. Losing your home has to take a lot out of you," Stanley tried to give him reassurances.
"Well considering the way my year is going, it was just my luck you know," Johnny laughed; otherwise he'd be bawling his head off.
"Well John . . ."
"Anyway I need just a few more days off Cap. Um, I have talk to my insurance company and get the ball rolling." Johnny ran his hand over his tired head.
"Sure John and any help you need, just let me know."
"Cap, a couple other things. Um, who was working this area? You wouldn't happen to know would you?" John asked expectantly not sure whether to punch or thank the firefighters.
His question was met with silence meaning only one thing, of course, story of his fricken' life.
"That's okay Cap and the other thing. This is just between you and me. I don't want the whole department to know about it, 'kay?" Bad enough I get stood up at the altar, don't want to be more of a laughingstock than I already am.
"Johnny are you sure about that?" Hank's voice strained, trying to talk some sense in his friend.
"Yeah Cap, oh I'm sure it will eventually get around but I want the lid on it for at least a little while, 'kay?" Johnny tried to sound light hearted.
"Sure John. Anyway just call me when you're ready to go back to work and we'll get you taken care of. I'll just say personal emergency, 'kay?" Stanley sighed.
"Sure Cap, thanks again. Bye," Johnny hung up the phone.
