HOT, HOT, HOT... in many ways (Part 135b)

HOT, HOT, HOT... in many ways (Part 135b)

After getting cleaned up and into bed neither of us could get our minds off what we’d witnessed. I remember Elle declaring that she never wanted to go to another fireworks show... ever! From my perspective it was I ‘d go but at a very safe distance from the ‘action’. As we were leaving the site I’d tried to get some information about anyone being hurt, primarily the guys who were in the ‘firing area’. The cop guiding the traffic out of the area was in no mood for conversation and just waved us on by. I knew that Bret would have some ‘inside information’ in the morning as his brother-in-law was a ranking fire official.

When Elle’s 2am alarm went off to get her up to make a bathroom visit neither of us had been to sleep but for short periods of time. I’d become so used to all three alarms that on some nights I never heard any of them. It was still very warm out and very little wind so all the windows were open. I remember hearing a truck out on the dual highway. Then we heard the fire house siren. The fire house was located in town and, as the crow flies, about a mile away. However, on this night it sounded like it was out by our garage. I was one of those rare kids that never wanted to be a fireman. So, after moving back to town when we bought the house, I declined the offer to join the all volunteer department. However, my parents were big supporters and held a party for the members each Fall. I’d helped them out a couple of times and had gotten to know some of the members. One of them, in trying to get me to change my mind, invited me to visit the fire house. I'll admit it was interesting and there were a few things I remembered from the visit. One had to do with the siren. There were four separate sound sequences. The most common was one that had a WoooooEeeeeeWooooEeeeeee sound. That indicated a low level fire, usually a brush fire. The other one that I remembered had a long, continuous wail. Fortunately it was one that was seldom used. It usually meant there was a house fire and lives were at risk. I’d only heard it a couple of times so when I heard it that night it caught my attention.

When it stopped I could hear the fire engines with their sirens going. The sound seemed to be disappearing which told me the fire was in the opposite direction. Eventually, we both fell asleep but it wasn’t long before I saw it get light. Elle was basically out cold and didn’t hear me get up and dressed. Without the kids there was no reason to wake her up. Even though I was facing a busy day at work I couldn’t get the sound of the fire siren out of my mind so I decided to take a slight detour and to drive past the fire house. Because it was an all volunteer department it meant department members who lived a ways out of town needed to know where the fire was when they arrived at the station and the trucks were gone. There was a big 4’ by 4’ blackboard attached to the front of the building where the location would be written and could easily be seen from the street. As I drove by and read the location I felt my heart beat go up. Just two words... ALWAYS INN.

The Always Inn was the restaurant/bar owned and run by Bebe’s parents. I knew that they, as well as Bebe and sometimes her brother, lived upstairs from the restaurant. A few years younger than Elle and I, I’d known who she was but hadn’t gotten to know her until this Summer. But, that fact didn’t lessen the thought process about her safety. In spite of knowing I had to get to work I decided to take a ride by the fire location to see for myself.

On my one visit to the firehouse there was one thing that had caught my attention. It was a very large map on the rear wall showing the whole fire district. All the roads were clearly marked as were all the fire hydrants. There were also numbers posted on specific areas of the map, mostly on the perimeter. I distinctly remember asking about them and was told they represented the expected response time. One area I was particularly interested in was where both Elle’s and my parents lived. The number was a 12 meaning that it should take about twelve minutes to arrive. I also remember seeing some much bigger numbers... well up into the 20’s. Knowing where the Always Inn was located I knew it was a long way out. Not good.

I timed my ride and it was over 20 minutes... and that was in a car and not a multi ton, large fire engine. The roads were all narrow and through farm fields with multiple 90 degree turns. To get to the Always Inn you had to make one last 90 degree turn and then go down about a 25 degree grade. As I approached the turn I saw barricades across the road and manned by a policeman. Pulling up to him I saw it was my neighbor’s brother-in-law. At first he was indicating for me to turn around. When I got up to him and he could see who I was we got to chat a bit. Bebe, her mother and father had been accounted for. The question was about Bebe’s brother. No one had seen him in a while.

Lee was the same age as Elle and I and had, at one time, been in Elle’s class at school. He was always considered to be ’different’ and by the time he was to start high school he’d been left back a couple of times. All Elle and I knew was that shortly after he started he was suspended. From that period on no one knew where he was at any given time. Elle’s father, a fisherman, used the dock at the Always Inn as his base of operations each Spring and, from time to time, he’d tell us stories about Lee, none good.

I talked the cop into letting me walk part way down the hill to look at the remains. What a shock. All that was left was the South wall and part of what had been a porch for eating. There was still smoke rising from the ashes and a firetruck still pumping water on them. The best way to describe how I felt driving to work was ‘drained’.

It was about 9:15am when I made my way in to work. The lobby, as expected, was full and, thankfully, there were people lined up to open new accounts. The first thing I did was to ask Bret about the fireworks show and if there had been any injuries. He didn’t know about that but did have the cause of the explosion(s).  Each of the men who were setting the fireworks off had a road flare to use to ignite the fuses and two of them had collided with one dropping his flare. That lit flare ended up against a series of fuses tied together for the rockets that were to be set off to end the show. They had been lying on their side in their tubes awaiting the time to set them up for detonation. I told him the scene was pretty spectacular but not what I’d expected. He smiled. 

With a mortgage committee meeting that afternoon I knew I needed to have all the current information concerning the new account/gift campaign together so Hobie could present it to the Trustees. Speaking of Hobie, his son was now at home recuperating from his injuries after being hit by a car. I could tell he was still concerned about him and asked if he wanted me to take the meeting for him. He hesitated but then said it might be a good idea. Truthfully, I was kicking myself for having offered.

To be continued...