Unexpected Inheritance

15

Dinner was always a little late those nights, but it didn't matter. Ben would poke his head into the kitchen to let her know they were wrapping up, and Tuck would stumble inside, covered in grease and grinning from ear to ear.

"I think I'm getting the hang of it," Tuck would say, wiping his hands on a rag as he plopped down at the table. "That thing's gonna run like new in no time."

Miranda would give him a small smile, glad to see her son so invested in something, his focus so strong. She still couldn't quite believe he was at this age, working on cars and planning for his future. Time moved so quickly, and in the blink of an eye, her little boy was becoming someone she barely recognized—someone strong, capable, and maybe even ready to leave the nest one day.

One bright afternoon, Ben and Tuck were high up on a roof in town, working hard to repair some shingles so Tuck could earn a little extra cash for his truck. As they labored together, Tuck couldn't help but marvel at how effortlessly Ben handled every tool and task.

"You really know your stuff, Ben," Tuck said, wiping sweat from his brow and gazing at his mentor with admiration.

Ben grinned, tightening a loose nail. "Years of doing it. You'll pick it up soon enough, kid."

Just then, Ben's sharp eyes caught a wisp of smoke drifting in the distance. He paused, squinting as the smoke grew denser. "Hold on, Tuck," he said, stepping back. "Do you see that?"

Tuck looked toward where Ben was pointing and his heart skipped a beat. A house in the neighborhood was engulfed in flames. "It's on fire" he exclaimed.

"We need to do something." He climbed down from the roof, quickly instructing Tuck, "Call the sheriff, Tuck. Tell him Mr. Mackey's home is on fire."

Tuck fumbled for his cell phone. "Alright, but—what are you going to do?" he asked, worry etched on his young face.

"I'm going to check if anyone's inside and make sure Mr. and Mrs. Mackey are okay. Stay put until help arrives."

Tuck's eyes widened, a nervous edge creeping into his voice. "Ben, you're not—what are you gonna do? The fire's big. We need to call the fire department."

"William George, just do what I say." Ben slightly yelled but Tuck understood why. He hesitated a moment more, then nodded, his eyes wide. As Ben hurried off toward the burning home, Tuck dialed the sheriff, his hands shaking slightly.

"Sheriff, it's Tuck. Dr.Bailey's son. Mr. Mackey's house is on fire—my Pops just ran in to check if they're inside"

Ben didn't hesitate. He banged on the front door before pushing it open, wincing at the wall of heat that hit him. "Mr. Mackey. Mrs. Mackey" he shouted, shielding his face with his arm as he moved inside.

The smoke was thick, making it hard to see, but he heard a faint cough from down the hall. He followed the sound, finding Mrs. Mackey slumped in a chair near the kitchen, struggling to breathe.

"Come on, ma'am, we gotta go," Ben said, crouching to help her up.

She coughed again, shaking her head weakly. "Harold—he's in the bedroom—"

Ben didn't waste a second. "Tuck" he shouted back toward the door. "Tell them we got two inside"

He half-carried, half-dragged Mrs. Mackey toward the front as she clung to him, her breaths shallow. Tuck was pacing anxiously but staying back like Ben had told him.

"I got you," Ben reassured Mrs. Mackey as he set her down near Tuck. "Stay put."

Then, before Tuck could argue, he turned and ran back inside, covering his nose with the sleeve of his shirt to keep the smoke out.