Page 128 of Sparking Sara

When I walk through the emergency bay doors, Bass and Brett are waiting for me, still in their dirty uniforms. They look awful. The looks on their faces scare me to death. I fall into Bass’s arms. “What happened? Is he dead?”

“He’s alive,” Bass says. “Injured, but alive. A roof collapsed on him. He has a few second-degree burns, but it’s his head injury that worries the doctors the most.”

“Head injury?” I cry. “No!”

“He’s tough, Sara,” Brett says. “He’s one of the toughest sons of bitches I’ve ever known. If anyone can get through this, he can.”

“Will he wake up?” I ask. “Will he walk again?” I step back and let my body fall against the wall before I ask the question that terrifies me. “Will he remember me?”

Both of them know my story. And they know what I’m asking. And I know they don’t have answers.

Ivy runs up behind me. “Sara!”

“Ivy!”

She pulls me into a hug. “What do we know, guys?”

“He’s not awake yet,” Bass says. “He got hit on the head by falling debris from the ceiling. They’re monitoring him for brain swelling.”

“Can she see him?” Ivy asks.

“He’s up in the ICU. We can go up and see if they’ll let you in.”

On our way to the elevator, I see a toddler covered with soot. There are trails of tears blazing a clean path down his face as a hospital worker tries to soothe him.

“Was he in the fire?” I ask.

“Yes,” Bass says. Then he and Brett share a look. A devastated look.

“What is it?” I ask.

“His parents were in the fire, too. They didn’t survive.”

For the second time today, I feel like I’m going to be sick. Not only did this young child lose his parents, but I now understand how deadly the fire was. The fire Denver was injured in. I try like hell to hold in my sobs as we approach the boy. No matter what I’m going through, what he’s going through is worse.

As we walk past him—the boy whose whole world just crumbled—I feel the need to reach out to him. He’s alone and scared. I feel a kinship with him. I was younger than him when I was abandoned by my birth parents. It makes me wonder if I knew what had happened to me. Doeshe?

“Denver saved him,” Bass says, nodding to the dirty little boy.

I swallow hard. “He did?”

Bass nods. “And whatever happens, I guarantee you, he’d do it all over again.”

I look at the boy until we turn the corner. But even after he’s out of sight, his cries still linger. And I know I’m going to have one more thing haunting my dreams.

We go up the elevator and into a waiting area filled with firefighters. Brett motions to them. “They won’t leave until they find out about Denver.”

“But what if there’s another fire?” I ask.

“We took ourselves out of service. It’s customary when one of our own is severely injured.”

“Oh, God,” I cry. I look at all the faces of the uniformed guys in the waiting room. They are all dirty with soot. “Was anyone else hurt?”

“Just some minor scrapes and smoke inhalation,” Brett says. “The fire had gotten so bad the chief called for an evacuation of all the companies. Everyone was on their way out of the building when Denver heard the kid cry out. After the collapse, we found Denver on top of the child. He had thrown himself over him, protecting him from the fire and any falling debris.”

Tears stream down my face. “He’s a hero,” I say. I grab on to Bass’s arm. “I can’t be the woman at the funeral who gets handed a flag. Please, please don’t say that will be me.”

A doctor comes into the waiting room and looks around until he sees me; then he approaches. I wonder if he thinks I look like the saddest person here.

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