I have heard some people say that being a firefighter is long stretches of boredom with short intervals of extreme terror. I guess that can be true of other jobs as well.
I don't know if I agree with that or not. My name is Barry, I fight fires. I love my job. As of the start of my story I have been doing it for 7 years, and never wanted to do anything else.
My wife Marcy and I met in 2nd grade and have been inseparable since high school. She works as a graphic designer. How can she hate my job and worry about me all the time when I keep telling her that with the training and equipment we are given there is little chance of anything happening at work.
Her best friend, other than me, from school is Alice Phillips. Alice writes songs and poetry. Alice always writes about love and caring. Her work amazes me.
Her twin brother Fred uses mainly her songs in his band; they have been slowly making a name for themselves.
Alice managed to talk Marcy into doing some artwork for the cover of the first CD that the band is going to release early next year. The band calls themselves Phreddy Fillups and The Greasy Finger Mechanics. They almost do a decent job; I can not say they are very good. They recently got a contract only on the strength of Alice's songs.
Fred and I were in classes together. Some people are top notch sleaze balls; that would be Fred. He always bragged about his sexual conquests, most of which never happened. He was all talk and no action as far as we were concerned.
His one conquest, sort of, was the preacher's daughter; he managed to get a pair of her underwear while on a date. She was too skinny and ugly to get many dates and about as smart as a box of hair. Later the next week her father took them back, then he spread the word that Fred took them off their clothes line. Fred had shown his trophy around, they were not clean. We tend to believe him on that one.
Marcy was invited to a recording session to show her designs to the producers. When she got there the backup singer was sick and did not show. Marcy was asked if she could fill in; all she had to do was moan during one song and scream like a cat in heat on the other. She did so well that they wanted to hire her and release the other girl.
I told her "No!"
We argued about it for better than a month; the day before the 3 month tour started she told me "...she was going. Alice and I are going to share a room, I will be fine. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity."
I still said that I did not want her to go. I told her I was concerned about Fred's reputation. She called me jealous.
The next morning when I returned from work she was gone. There was a note that said she would call each evening. She never explained why she felt she had to sneak away. She just avoided the subject when we talked. If I brought it up she changed the subject. She was true to her word and called every day for the first month or so; then she started missing a day here and there. After the umpteenth miss I called Alice and asked what they were doing that was so important that Marcy did not call me. Alice said she had no idea; she had been in Nashville since the second week of the tour.
I called Marcy and left a number of messages for her to call me. Marcy called the next evening and sounded a little drunk. She denied getting any messages from me. I told her it was time to come home. She screamed at me about how I was trying to stifle her ambitions; and then she hung up. I did not hear from her for three days.
I took a week off of work and flew out to where they were supposed to perform next. When I showed up at the arena I was told I was not on the list to be allowed in. Marcy was not answering her phone either. When they called him, Fred came out and looked at me; he said he "...did not know who I was." The police came and escorted me out. I got most of it recorded using the digital camera that was just hanging around my neck.
I called Alice and informed her of the situation. She called the producers and they sent an order that I be allowed backstage. The show was over for hours by that point. When I was escorted to the band's dressing room. Marcy was so out of it that she did not recognize me. Marcy was topless. She did offer me some awesome sex; I managed to get that on tape too. I got a nice close up of all the hickeys on her neck and chest. Fred was smirking.
I said "No thanks." and left.
I took the next plane out of town.
The tour was over in the next few weeks. The band came home. They all looked like shit. They blamed it on being tired; I knew better.
Marcy came home that day to find the door locks had been changed. When she rang the bell at 2 that afternoon I let her in. She sat down on the sofa and fell asleep. She was still asleep when I returned from work the next morning. She slept until 6 that evening. I had to be to work at 9.
The next morning when I returned from work she almost looked human again. I told her we needed to talk; she had some explaining to do.
I showed her the video of my being denied access to the show and waited for an explanation.
"I am sure Fred was just joking around; he never mentioned you were there though."
I showed her the list I had of all the times I had called her and left a message.
She just shrugged "I never got them."
"You are through with the band if you want to be married to me."
"Give me one good reason why I should quit!"
"I don't like your behavior since you took up with them."
"Just what is wrong with my behavior?"
I played the video of her in the dressing room. She saw Fred smirking and grimaced.
"That's not me. Who gave you that video?"
At that point the camera was turned toward me and she saw the tears running down my face in the video.
"You will go into rehabilitation, we will go to counseling or the marriage is over. You were under the influence of drugs, which is the only reason you get that one chance."
Her response was to stare at me until the doorbell rang and Alice came into the house.
Alice had already seen all the evidence of Marcy's time on tour; she was pissed like you would not believe. They sat in the kitchen for the rest of the morning going over all the things Marcy had done on tour. I overheard a few comments and did not like what was said.
Much later when Marcy finally came out and wanted to apologize to me, I was gone. Every time she tried to call me I answered saying "rehab and counseling". Then I hung up. Finally I turned the phone off so I could sleep. I slept at the station that day; I left instructions that I was not to be disturbed.
Marcy came by twice; they told her I was not there each time.
I had been back on duty for about an hour when we had a fire call. I knew the address well. It was Fred's house, where the band stayed.
As we arrived there was a report of someone stranded in a second floor bedroom. We put a ladder up to the window and I climbed up to see what I could find. Alice was blacked out leaning against the window frame. I reported that I had found someone, loaded her on my shoulder and began to retrace my steps when I saw 2 tiny kittens jump onto the window sill. I scooped them up and placed them inside my turnout coat and headed down. I was about halfway down when there was shouting and pointing; I looked up to see Marcy climbing out of the window and heading down the ladder. I yelled for her to hurry.
I handed the kittens and Alice over to the others and headed back up to help Marcy down. Just as I reached her there was a loud explosion; she went limp in my arms and I headed back down. My ears were ringing and my head hurt badly from the concussion.
I handed her off to the others before I saw all the blood on my gear. Something from the exploding LP gas tank had pierced her neck and she was bleeding heavily. I knew it was not good. The Captain came over and removed me from the area. She died before she got to the hospital. I know the crew did everything they could to save Marcy.
The autopsy showed that Marcy died from loss of blood; she had varying amounts cocaine, and other drugs, in her system. She was also 2 months pregnant; no it was not mine.
Alice and the kittens had inhaled a lot of smoke, but they would be fine in time. The rest of the band died in the fire.
The drugs in her system were determined to be of a small enough quantity that they were sure she had not taken any since she had returned.
The fire marshal determined the fire was started by careless drug use and that everyone in the band except Marcy had died before we got there.
The band was cremated and placed in a single urn for burial at sea. The tragedy that befell the band caused their sales to spiral through the roof.
Marcy was buried in her family plot the next week. The only ones to attend were her parents, Alice and me.
Alice and I were allowed to adopt the 2 kittens after the shelter determined they were healthy. I got the gray, long haired one and named her Smokey. Alice got an orange tabby that had markings like a lightning flash on his left side; she named her Flash.
I was required to undergo counseling for stress before I could return to work. 3 months later I was cleared to return. I was not allowed to go up the ladders for years.