Cries in the Night(2)

“Oh my God,” Julie cried and hurried over to the stretcher.

The woman looked up at her … or tried to. Her swollen and battered eyes clearly hampered her vision, but she was able to recognize Julie. An expression flashed across her face, one that was part embarrassment and part happiness to see someone she knew. “Julie … I know what you’re thinking … don’t be mad at me,” she said in a voice that shook with pain.

“Gloria, you don’t have to apologize to me … or to him,” Julie rushed to calm her. She gently took the woman’s hand and walked next to the stretcher as the two paramedics struggled pushing it through several inches of unshoveled snow and over the shattered remains of a sled.

“He didn’t mean to hurt me,” the woman told her.

Like hell he didn’t, Julie thought, but aloud she said, “How do you feel?”

Gloria lifted her other hand that already had an IV attached and rubbed her belly. “Not so good. I’m worried about my baby.”

Julie looked up at one of the paramedics and he shrugged. “They’re going to do everything they can to help you both,” she told the woman.

“I burned him with the iron. That’s why he got so mad,” Gloria continued, anxious that Julie know why the event had happened.

“You need to focus on yourself and your baby,” Julie spoke soothingly. “I’ll stay with Danny until someone comes. Have you called your mother?”

Gloria turned her head as if afraid of being overheard. “No, would you do that for me? Her number is in my phone … you know, the one you gave me. It’s hidden in the laundry room. Danny will show you.” She tried to give her son a smile, but she could manage only a stiff grimace.

The little boy looked at Julie and nodded shyly.

“We’ve got to go,” the female paramedic said as the stretcher reached the ambulance. She and her partner prepared the stretcher for loading and Julie reached out for Danny’s hand.

“Only my mother,” Gloria pleaded, twisting around and leaning toward Julie. “Don’t let him go with anyone else. Promise me.”

“Don’t worry about him. I promise I won’t leave him until your mother comes for him,” Julie assured her, and Gloria relaxed back against the cushion. The two women weren’t long-time friends or even acquaintances. Their relationship had started almost two years ago when Julie had responded to a domestic call. That one hadn’t resulted in hospitalization. But it had been the first in several similar events that had created a trust great enough that Gloria knew she could leave Danny in Julie’s care.

Danny trembled but didn’t pull his hand away as he watched his mother being loaded into the ambulance. The red and blue lights bounced off the surrounding trees and houses, magnified by the stark whiteness of the snow and turning the still-falling snowflakes into confetti. Julie looked down at the little boy whose gaze followed the twinkling lights as they disappeared down the street. Looking down she realized he wasn’t wearing a coat. She unbuttoned her own, took it off and knelt down in front of Danny. Even though it was much too large and drug on the ground, he burrowed gratefully into the warmth of the wool. Shivers of cold and lingering fear shook his tiny body. “They’re going to take good care of your mama. But right now we need to call your grandma. Can you tell me your mom’s secret hiding place?”

“It’s in the house,” he told her, then lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “In the smelly things.”

Smelly things? Her mind scrambled for what that might mean. “Dirty clothes?” she asked.

“No, the good smelly things. You know, the ones with the little bear on the box,” he whispered back.

“Dryer sheets?”

He nodded.

Good choice. Men like Carlos never did laundry, so it would be unlikely he would stumble on it there. Julie looked around. Apparently the fire was out. Smoke no longer billowed from the roof, and the firefighters were straightening out the hoses in preparation of rolling them back up. One of the firefighters walked out of the house with an axe swung over his shoulder. She lifted her hand and waved at him. She recognized him from several other fires she had been called out to.

He noticed and walked toward them. He was tall, well over six feet. Dressed in full firefighting uniform, he looked big and menacing, sort of like an urban alien. Steam radiated from his long black coat with its yellow reflective stripe and the top of his black helmet. He had an air canister strapped on his back, but he had unfastened his respirator and it hung off to one side. His face was smudged with a layer of carbon, marked with paths where sweat and water had streaked down. After giving Julie a crooked grin, he swung the axe to the ground and knelt in front of Danny, as if he knew what an imposing sight he must be.

“You must be Daniel,” he said to him. “I saw some amazing drawings on the refrigerator. I was hoping I would get to meet the artist. Were those yours?”

Danny nodded solemnly, but Julie could see that he was flattered.

“And that must have been your room with the race car posters.”

Again Danny nodded. “Did my room burn up?”

“No, we were able to stop the fire before it got to your room. But I’m afraid some of your things got a little wet and are going to smell like smoke.”

“How about my baseball cap? The doctor people made me and my mom leave so fast I didn’t get it.”

The firefighter said, “Oh yeah, I remember seeing a couple caps in there. They’ll be fine.” He took off his helmet and held it out to Danny. “Maybe you’d like to wear my hat.”

Danny’s brown eyes stretched wide. “Oh yes, sir.”

The man set the hat on the boy’s much smaller head and it settled down to cover his ears and face all the way down to his nose. Instead of taking it off, Danny lifted his chin and looked out from underneath it. But most noticeable was the twitch of a smile that had softened his tense lips.

The firefighter stood and turned his attention to Julie. He pushed the heavy cloth hood off his head, revealing rumpled dark brown hair. As he looked at her, she was struck by the clarity of his bright blue eyes.

“You’re Julie, aren’t you?” he asked.

She was a little surprised that he knew her name because they had never actually spoken. Not that she was a stranger to any of the public responders because Julie or one of her volunteers showed up at all of the more serious crime, fire or accident scenes. “Yes, I am. And you’re …?”

“Rusty,” he answered and pointed toward his last name that was printed on his jacket as he added, “Wilson. I’m sure you know my younger brothers.”

“Oh, so you’re that Wilson,” Julie teased. She was very well acquainted with his brothers. Sam was a Denver cop who she worked with often, and Chris, the youngest, was a paramedic out of Denver Health. He wasn’t one of the ones on scene tonight, but their paths had crossed often in the course of their jobs.

Rusty held up his hands. “Whoa, you can’t believe everything you hear about me.”

“Why do you assume it’s all bad?” she asked.

“Because some of it is true. I’m the first to admit that I enjoy life. But my brothers like to exaggerate my …,” he grinned, “… transgressions.”

Julie shrugged. This was not a point she wanted to debate in the middle of a snowy night when she was without a coat. “I was just wondering if someone could take me inside for a minute. I need to get Danny’s things and … well, something else.”

“Sure, I’ll take you in, but he needs to stay out here.” Rusty called over one of the other firefighters. “Jackson, would you hang with my friend Daniel for a few minutes?”

Jackson, a middle-aged black firefighter who had just finished shutting off the hydrant and screwing the cap back on, nodded and knelt down next to Danny. “Hey buddy. My name is Jackson. Do you mind keeping me company while they go get some of your clothes?”

Danny nodded, solemn again. He stayed, but his gaze moved back to Julie.

“Don’t let anyone take him away, okay?” she asked Jackson.

“Gotcha,” Jackson confirmed.

After giving Danny a reassuring pat on the head, she turned to follow Rusty.

“Don’t forget my cap,” Danny called after her.

“I won’t,” she called back.

“Watch your step,” Rusty cautioned. He had taken a flashlight out of his utility belt and turned it on, illuminating a wide arc of destruction.

Apparently, the electricity was off and the spotlights didn’t penetrate past the front door. The dark house took on a sinister spook-house sort of feeling as they stepped over the threshold and into the smoldering interior.

“The fire didn’t make it to this part of the house, but the back two bedrooms are pretty much gone,” he added as they made their way around pieces of furniture that had been knocked over or tossed out of the way.

“Any idea what caused it?” She followed directly behind him, keeping her hand on his back because nothing could be seen outside the beam of his light.

“Looks like an iron on the carpet. But the investigators will find out for sure.”