The phone rang vacantly in my ear. I waited feeling pins and needles in the form of heat rise from my finger tips. It felt as though an infinite echo sounded in my ear as I waited for her to answer. She did not, I decided to leave a quick message without giving too much information. I didn't want her to find out from a voicemail. It was difficult to process my emotions. By the time I made it around the side of the house, Adonis had the crew prepping to overhaul. I knew I would have to destroy parts of my childhood home and though the fire began on another house, the damage was far more significant.
"What's my assignment?" I asked as I approached Adonis. His muscular body hidden under heavy turnouts. His face covered in black soot. He looked exhausted. The fire burned through the early hours of the morning. Soon a crew would come to relieve us and we would return to the station to collect our belongings. Adonis looked liked needed three weeks leave. I wondered if Smith would find anything. It was strange that he pushed aside my findings but he was the expert. I could just be too emotional at this moment.
"I want you to work rehab for until relief shows up. Cutting up this tree won't take long and Rondo has a pipeman already for the hotspots inside. You look exhausted and I can't have you passing out with a chainsaw in your hands," he looked me over carefully as I stood beside him. The tenderness in his eyes only softened my heart. Small tears began to well in my eyes. Without a word a walked to the engine and looked over our rehab supplies. I forced the tears to stop by biting my inner cheek. I could tell hunger was a huge source of exhaustion for then crew. We skipped dinner with the excitement of the fire but now that the adrenaline has subsided things looked gloomy. There wasn't a lot to get a real meal going. Just crummy granola bars, water and electrolyte drinks. I pulled out my phone and executed plan be. Not far from here, a taqueria, sold large boxes of breakfast tacos. It was a crew favorite and I had them on speed dial.
"Hola juan-derful tacos." The owner was a third generation restaurant owner. His grandfather immigrated from El Salvador during a period of civil unrest. The taco joint started out as a small stand that his grandfather paraded around Galveston when it was the largest spring break destination. After a hurricane destroyed most of the city the moved to a more permanent place forty minutes from the seawall. Lucky for us. We ordered so often, all we had to do was ask for the usual.
"Juan, it's Aurora for the fire department. Can I get the breakfast usual. We are out on a call." I smiled happily. I felt famished.
"Sure, chera, where are you?"
"Just off of main, look for the big red truck. Thanks Juan. Tell your dad I said hi and to take care of himself. I don't want to have another call at your restaurant because he's over doing it again."
"Aye, okay okay, I took over the business after that."
"So that means he's there one less day?"
"Pretty much," he laughed.
"I'll make sure to give your boy a big tip," I smiled. His son, Chucho was sixteen and already one of the hardest workers I know. He started working at Juan's at thirteen as a dishwasher and now his dad can't keep him out of the shop. He's more like his grandfather than anyone ever imagined and he looked like him. At fourteen he could grow a full grown beard. Though both of his parents a quite short, Chucho inherited height out of nowhere. He stood around 6' and still growing.
"No, then he won't be able to carry his fat head on his shoulders," he laughed like his sides were splitting. Juan has a great sense of humor and I often find myself laughing with him.
"We will just have to see how quick he get here," I giggled. We both knew Chucho would be leaving with a tip. I liked the kid. He had a good head on his shoulders and ambitions.
It only took fifteen minutes for our food and of course Chucho brought dispensers of horchata and coffee. A small group of starving firefighters gathered around to get their food. I grabbed one and stood with Chucho while the others got theirs. Smith was still investigating so I asked Rondo to set one aside for him.
"How's your abuelo?" I asked softly.
"He's doing better. He's been asking for you a lot. My abuelita too, she wants to have you over for dinner." He put his arm around me for a side hug. One of my fist calls was Jaime, the stubborn old man bronchitis but refused to see a doctor. Finally, after working himself to the point of exhaustion, he fainted. The fall caused a nasty laceration and minor concussion. His family was terrified of losing their patriarch but I stayed with them after my shift ended. Eventually I visited Jaime almost daily until he returned home.
"Anytime, her cooking is amazing. The restaurant should start using her recipes," I giggled with a sly smile. From a short distance I could see Smith coming our way, he looked tired, brows a bit furrowed. I grabbed his food and quickly excused myself. I reached my hands out with the taco as I got close to Randy.
"You eat it," he said simply. I knew getting him to eat was a stretch. I could tell that this fire got to him a bit. He and my dad were close friends after all. I walked backed to Chucho and taco in hand.
"Didn't like it?" He frowned.
"He didn't try it. I think he's a little upset. You see this building over here," I said pointing, "It belongs to my Mother. It's my childhood home."
"The one with the big tree on it?"
"Yes. I grew up in that home and Randy Smith was a huge part of that up bringing."
"I'm sorry about your house, chera." He looked at the ground and went in for another hug. I squeezed him. He was a sweet kid after all. I felt another person enter the space we were taking. I released after about a second and could see Adonis staring at. His arms were folded waiting as if he wanted my attention.