Thanks to those who are still here reading. Have a good week everyone!
March 27, 2023
Our captain has always been a rather reserved man, who has never cared too much about team spirit, let alone the famous group activities that create bonding and complicity. He also doesn't care about results, response times to calls, the silly competitions that sometimes that they have with other stations. He is a quiet guy, who only cares that at the end of the shift everyone can go home to the people they love, safe and sound. Lately, though, he must have been getting a little pressure from upstairs, because he's been pushing us to be faster and more responsive in emergency situations, he's been asking us to think of some project to put together to help the community and the territory, and most of all he's trying to socialize with us, much more than before.
Somewhat surprisingly, then, an invitation came to everyone for his birthday, a simple beer to drink in company at his home, with an invitation open to all the "collaterals" of the station, so family and close friends. None of us had ever been to the captain's house, and we were all amazed to find ourselves in front of a mansion, with a swimming pool, basketball court, barbecue, wood-burning oven, fireplace in the living room, and a mega TV of I don't know how many inches. Of a wife not even a shadow, but there is a blond woman hanging around him and I still haven't figured out who she is.
I try to stand back, as I always do on these occasions, but I spend most of my time occupied in two main actions: waiting for Carina to come through the door and running away from Michelle's clutches.
T < why are you running away?> Travis asks me from behind, startling me. He laughs like crazy, partly because one more step and I would have ended up in the pool.
M < I'm not running away..> I deny and he nods, looking at me with his usual irreverent grimace.
T < ask me the question you'd like to ask me but you feel is too inappropriate..> he says, winking at me. I look at him then give in, immediately.
M < do you know if Carina is coming?>
T < you don't know?> he asks wryly, making me think that perhaps our proximity has not escaped the gaze of others. < anyway she should. I don't know anything, but Luke said she was coming...in fact, he was trying to figure out which room to take her to..> he says, as in reaction I squeeze the beer tighter in my hands, to the point that it warps the can. If Travis notices this he is kind enough not to say anything.
T < why do you think a beautiful, intelligent girl like her gets treated as a sex object by someone like him?> I just smile, happy that I'm not the only one who thinks so.
M < I'd like to know that too..>
T < take advantage of your friendship and try to make her understand, please. It's endearing to me...> I sigh.
M < it's a little more complicated than that...> I admit. Travis and I are not great friends, outside of the station, but he is one of the people with whom I have been able to have the deepest conversations I have ever had in my life, despite the fact that on the surface he is someone who is always smiling and always has a joke ready. We have more in common than it seems, which often scares us, and sometimes it's fruitful and safe to talk to him.
T < I know. That's why you should take advantage of it...>
M < I don't feel able to..>
T < or are you afraid?>
M < even?> I just smile.
T < you know how I feel about great love...that there is only one and you should not let it slip away...>
M < I already did once..> I admit.
T < then don't spit on the luck and fate that gave you a second chance..> I look at him smiling with compassion: who knows how many times he dreamed in vain of a second chance with Michael.
M < however you know that it's not just up to me..>
T < I don't think she's so against it..>
M < and Luke? What about the unwritten code between colleagues? Indeed brothers?> Travis sighs, shrugging. I'll never know what useful advice she would have given me, because Andy flutters in my direction in a clear appeal to rush to her. Travis winks at me and takes his leave.
M < what do you want?> I ask as I approach Andy and discover that Vic is also there. < if you called me here to set me up with Mich I'm going to be pissed off...> I threaten her.
A < no, not for once! There's a red alert...!>
M < from work?> I ask, already a little excited at the idea of leaving.
A < no! There's Robert!> I raise an eyebrow.
M < and since when is your ex a red alert?>
V < since when is he hand in hand with the boss!>
M < which we already knew...?> I ask confused.
A < yes, but seeing it is different!> Andy punches me in the shoulder. < can you be fucking empathetic for once!> I laugh, then try to restrain myself in the face of their dark stares.
So we spend the next hour practically stalking Sullivan from afar. It was certainly not my favorite activity, but it was better than socializing with others and at least it was a good distraction from staring at the door while waiting for Carina. A wait that was in vain, however, because of Carina not even a shadow.
Having finished the "party" at the captain's house, which was nothing more than brunch, we all went home to take a nap while waiting for the night shift, which began a few hours later.
The evening seems to be starting out completely quietly, but I feel restless. I have a bad feeling about me that I can't ignore. Between Carina and me, the relationship has always been constant and frequent. In the last month we have seen each other alone, even in the face of all the talk we have had about how much better to slow down whatever exists between us, but we have continued to have dinner together a few times, we've seen two movies, and the rest of the time, our shifts being difficult to fit in, we have devoted it to endless phone calls or text exchanges. This is what upsets me the most. It is true that whenever there is an "official" event or otherwise we are in the company of others, Carina and I are colder and more distant than ever, almost not even looking at each other's faces. But just to make up for this lack of physical closeness, we exchange an avalanche of messages. Once it even happened that we were all at dinner together and she and I, while not deigning to look at each other, from one end of the table to the other, texted each other the whole time. So why didn't she even warn me that she wouldn't be there? Why hasn't she texted me as usual to ask how I'm doing? Why doesn't she get in touch? Why doesn't she respond to my rather desperate messages that I have been sending her for more than an hour?
My colleagues are all together in front of the TV, watching a stupid movie, and they have already announced that if the evening turns into a quiet night soon they will go to sleep. I have decided, on the other hand, to continue to sit on the sidelines right from the start, cramming myself into my bed. Most of the time I hate the fact that I have a huge room to sleep in, with no privacy: that's why I often sleep at different times from others, so I still have my own space and time.
Tonight, however, I don't get that lucky, because as soon as I lay my head back on the pillow, Andy and Vic run into the room and pounce on my bed, jumping on me. They begin a tickle fight, in which I am forced to declare myself soon won.
M < sooner or later you will break my bed..> I complain.
A < what's wrong with you?> Andy asks, settling on her side next to me. Vic is sitting on the other bed, which she has dragged a few steps away from me. When I don't need sidereal distance with the others, it happens that the three of us join two beds and all sleep together, even though the captain always tells us, with good reason, that it's the "least safe shit I've ever witnessed in a firehouse".
M < nothing..> I try to deny it, but they know me too well.
V < Carina didn't attend the party earlier or even get in touch?> I snort, nodding.
M < yes, but she doesn't have to...it's just that I'm starting to worry now..> the two of them exchange a look that I catch on the fly. < what? > Andy sighs.
A < we don't want to aggravate your thoughts...but Luke was saying earlier that he was hurt because she didn't even notify him of her absence and now she won't answer his phone...> I close my eyes, throwing myself further back on the pillow.
M < if something happened?> I think of the worst.
V < we would have known by now...>
M < maybe she is home alone...> I am alarmed, but Andy brings some rationality, saying that she should have gone to work anyway and that if she didn't show up the hospital would do something.
I get up with the idea of calling the clinic and asking for her.
V < doesn't that seem a bit much? > Vic asks, making me stop on the spot.
M < do you say it is?> Vic shrugs.
V < this isn't a "slow down please I'm scared!"> she makes a gesture, mocking me.
M < I didn't say that! And I've already said I'm worried...!> Andy sits me back down on the bed and proposes that we distract ourselves by talking about something else, which Carina is sure to show up.
A < have you thought about what to do for your birthday?> Andy asks me and I shake my head.
V < but that's in two days!> Vic claims. < can it be that we always have to think about it?> I raise an eyebrow.
M < sorry to bother you!> I exclaim jokingly. < girls, there's nothing to arrange...you know I don't like birthdays...the usual beer at the usual bar will do just fine.>
V < can we invite Carina?>
A < Vic! We were exactly trying to distract her from Carina!> I laugh at the absurdity of the situation.
M < do you think something happened?> they both sigh and seem to be struggling to give me an answer.
A < as soon as she can you'll see she'll be in touch. Maybe she had to come in to work urgently and couldn't notify...it's not like we always have to assume the worst..> I nod, albeit unconvinced and eventually find ourselves locked in a group hug, soon caught up in sleep.
In our work we learn to always sleep with our ears perked up and one eye already half open, ready to react immediately to every ringing call. At the same time, however, we know that it is important during night shifts to gather our strength whenever possible, because it may be that at some point the call will come that will change the trajectory of the night and the shift permanently.
The call, for me, comes at four in the morning. It takes me a moment to realize that it is not the alarm, it is not the call for everyone, but it is my cell phone, which I had evidently forgotten with the ringer. I try to unravel the entanglement with Vic and Andy without waking them up and then I run, jumping out of bed and running into the kitchen, speeding up my pace a lot when I realize it is Carina calling me.
M < hello?> and I have to repeat it over and over again before I get a signal from the other end, so much so that I have a doubt that the line has gone dead. Too bad the signal I get is a muffled hiccup. The sum of: the time + the hiccup + the deafening silence of the previous hours + her current difficulty literally send my "worry containment system" into a tailspin.
M < ok..> I decide to get down to business. < Carina can you tell me where you are? I'll catch up with you! Send me the location, rather...> and my being pragmatic must somehow wake her up.
C < no, no..> I hear her say. I have to take several long breaths to maintain silence and respect her turn to speak.
M < will you tell me what's going on?> I yield to her insistence. < you're making me worry..> Carina pulls up with her nose before answering me.
C < I'm at the airport, on my way to Italy..>
M < to Italy?> I yell worriedly as if she told me she was going to Angola without any kind of vaccine or precaution.
C < yes..> and then again she bursts out crying loudly. This allows my brain to make deductions.
M < did something happen at your house? To your relatives?> I hear a sound that could be a "yes," a nodding. < okay...and is it necessary for you to go now? I mean in this psychoemotional state..> Carina again takes a big breath before speaking.
C < I have to. My dad died..> and so saying the call ends. I try to call her back immediately, but Carina doesn't answer.
I spend the next five minutes staring blankly into the kitchen, swallowing idly. What do you do in these situations? I am not capable of handling big emotional catastrophes. I am capable of handling large fires, large emergencies, I am capable of figuring out in milliseconds how it is safer to intervene if there is a car accident and if by chance the tank is about to explode. I am able to move boulders of a landslide perfectly, as if it were a puzzle to be broken down and put back together. I am also capable of handling earthquakes and tsunamis and hurricanes. I have protocols in mind for everything, meticulously organized in my brain as if it were an encyclopedia of disasters.
But emotional catastrophe, no.
When Lucas, our boss, who we discovered was Vic's lover and future fiancé, died five years ago, I took care of the practical part: the breakfast, the clothes, the regularity of lunches and dinners, arranging our attendance at funerals so that we were close but not too close, keeping the house clean. Andy took care of the emotional part: I would stock the bedside table with tissues, yes, but holding a desperate Vic in my arms, listening to her, supporting her, handing her said tissues, was Andy.
When Ryan died and Andy seemed to fall apart with every step she took, I was in charge of the practical part: again I managed the lunches and dinners, I managed our shifts so that we could attend the funeral, I even participated in choosing the readings to be done during the funeral, together with Andy's dad, because she could not get out of her first desperate, then catatonic state. For the management of these phases, there was Vic: she was the one who was even in charge of forcibly getting Andy out of bed and washing her when she refused to do so, offering her encouraging talks and comparisons with her experience. I, at best, felt lucky all the time, because all in all I never felt such great pain, and at most I took refuge in my personal reflections on how not feeling pain is on the one hand a blessing, and on the other hand also overwhelming proof that without going down the field you don't lose, but you don't win either.
When Andy's dad died, then, I was acting captain, during a worldwide pandemic, so I felt even more entitled to devote myself to the organization, then more difficult than ever, of the funeral, to dealing with protocols and safety distances, trying to maintain as much regularity as possible in our shifts, our eating and sleeping. For all the emotional part, again, there was Vic. And at that time next to Andy was also Sullivan, so I really felt like I was in a safe place.
Now what? Now what do I do? Now who is my sidekick? Now I'm legitimized to have what kind of role?
I look out into the big room for a moment, and everyone continues to sleep peacefully. In the darkness of the night I catch a glimpse of Luke's serene, relaxed figure and wonder how this is possible. With this question on me, I turn on my heels and walk toward the captain's office, aware that I find him awake.
As was intended, in fact, he is sitting at his desk, in front of his computer, probably playing online poker as usual. I knock and he startles, even making me smile for a moment.
B < Bishop! What are you doing here?> I enter more hesitant than ever, but I try to feign a relaxation that does not belong to me and, indeed, I even sit at my desk. My palms are sweaty and I keep running them over my pants like I'm on my final Academy exam.
M < I need a favor..> I say. He raises his eyebrow and I know that I am about to make one of the most important decisions of my life, one that will only make a difference.