01 October 2000 - Hilltop Road, Lancaster, Massachusetts
“There must be some really unhappy people out there today...” Jeff muttered while he and Keiko watched the evening news together. Neptune’s Forge announced its first two commercially-available models earlier in the day. One model was sized for a private home or a small, stand-alone business such as “Over Easy;” the other was sized for up to a moderate-sized strip mall or office building.
“I believe that is the understatement of the year, husband. I am quite glad we do not have any of our funds invested in oil futures.”
“I’d have to argue the statement you just made is the understatement of the year.”
“How much do we have invested with Neptune’s Forge?”
“I’d have to call Jim Teller to get the exact amount now, but the last time I spoke with Tori Rocklin, their CFO, we held a twelve percent stake in the company; we keep putting our spare money into the company after taking care of our family.”
“Will they be able to keep up with the demand, now that the units are commercially available?”
“That’s the question, isn’t it? I’m glad they decided to restrict availability to the Northeast until we’re through the winter. Once they get a handle on what kind of demand they get with pre-orders, they’ll decide how many of the four manufacturing plants they’ve contracted with to use.”
“And once initial demand is satisfied? What then?”
“The plan is a phased introduction: the Northeast this year, the rest of U.S. snow country next, then the rest of the U.S. Once they clear the exportable technology check, Canada will be the first international market, then other cold-weather countries. World-wide release will come after that; that’s where the big win for the consumer will occur. If they can eliminate the pork-based products used in the design, the regions where pork is ‘unclean’ will open up and cheap, clean power will be available far outside the cities.”
“I cannot believe how far the futures have dropped in a single day, Jeffrey!”
“If the oil companies rebrand themselves as ‘energy companies’ I think they’ll be okay in the long run; if they get behind renewable energy sources and researching different ways to power cars, so much the better. Commodities traders just took a hit and it will only get worse from here.”
“Jeff? Come on in.” Jeff rose and closed the military thriller he’d brought with him; he closed the office door behind him and settled into the large chair provided. “So how are things going, Jeff?”
“I feel like they’re going well, Phil,” he replied to Philip Johansson, Ph.D., the therapist he’d chosen to work with. “This past month’s been a bit of a whirlwind, trying to get DMD up and running, but we’re hitting our stride. My first month of graduate school is in the books and also seems like it’s going well. Home life? If there’s anything be better than perfect that’s what it is.”
“So there’s nothing negative in your life?”
“No, I didn’t mean for it to sound that way,” Jeff tried to clarify. “I’ve had to learn how to balance the three different parts of my life again: work, school, and home. What I should have said is that I think I’ve already hit on the balance. I’ve got a good staff in place, so I don’t spend my time at work trying to do everything myself, nor do I spend my time micro-managing others. I go to class, do my schoolwork, and put it aside. My family gets the rest of my time, and I make sure that’s the majority of it. Things have gotten hectic again, but I’m handling it.”
Phil nodded; he seemed to be happier with that answer. “Have you had any dreams about that day since our last session two weeks ago? Before my vacation?”
“A few,” Jeff admitted. “I know I woke Keiko up once; we talked about the dream and how I felt before I forgot about it. I have the notes here.” He handed over a piece of notebook paper.
“It seems like you’re starting to see a shift in the tenor of the dreams.”
Jeff nodded this time. “I still see Lily on the stretcher in the trauma bay at the end of the dream, but she’s talking to me before we get to that point, not screaming at me. I haven’t seen Ruby at all.”
“Why do you think that might be?”
“I think running into Ruby and Jasmine at the splash park in Sterling a few days after our last session has a lot to do with it; Jasmine gave me a hug to thank me, then Ruby did as well. I was also able to introduce them to my family. I know Jasmine heard about my reactions in her apartment and at the hospital. She thanked me for fighting as hard for her family as I would for my own. She’s moved out of Medford and into an apartment here in Ayer; she’s going to be a management trainee at the Dunkin’ Donuts on Fitchburg Road.”
“You’re never going to forget that day.”
“No,” Jeff agreed with a sigh. “In a life full of turning points, that’s the latest one I’ve had and certainly one of the most profound. It’s changed the direction of my professional life, and my personal life.”
“Have you spoken to anyone from your old office?”
“I spoke to Shawna, my former partner, over the weekend; she and some of the firefighters from the station we worked out of will be visiting DMD on Friday.”
“What are you hoping for in the visit?”
“On the surface, just to reconnect with some friends I haven’t seen in a couple of months. Beyond that? I’m not sure.”
“Do you think you’re still clinging to your old job?”
“I guess in a way I am, though I still keep in touch with people I worked with in Springfield; I do the same with some Army buddies, too. People with whom I’ve shared intense experiences? Maybe that’s the common thread there?”
“Come in!” was the response to Keiko’s soft knock on the door. The main door of the residence was open behind the screen door on this warm, Indian summer day in mid-October. Jeff ushered his wife and kids into the home. TC met them when they stepped into the living room from the foyer, giving all but Jeff hugs; Heather sat on the couch behind him holding a small bundle.
“I feel slighted,” Jeff told his friend while they shook hands.
“You’ll get over it,” TC assured him.
Jeff gave his big sister a long, congratulatory hug and a kiss on the cheek. His kids all wanted to see what their Aunt Heather held. Once their interest waned Keiko gave them each something to do while the four adults sat together. Heather handed her newborn son to Jeff.
“How are you feeling, Heather?” Keiko asked.
“Pretty good, all things considered. I didn’t have to have a c-section or an episiotomy, so no incisions to worry about.”
“Your boy already has a pretty good grip, TC. When are you giving him a baseball?”
“Baseball? He’s the future of Alabama football! Roll Tide!”
“You went to BU, fella,” Jeff pointed out.
“They don’t have a football team any more, remember?”
“You could always cheer for the Eagles.“
“You can leave,” both Pelleys said in unison. The sports teams at Boston University are called the Terriers, while those at Boston College are called the Eagles; the two schools are fierce cross-town rivals.
Keiko nearly fell out of her chair laughing; Jeff ignored the comment. “You hardly even know you’re in Worcester when you turn onto your street, guys. This house was a great find.”
“That’s one of the reasons we chose to live on Worcester’s West Side. The house needs a little work, but I think we’ll be happy here. Heather will have a ten minute commute in the mornings at worst, and mine won’t be too bad, either.”
“What about Tom the Fourth here? Have you decided where he’ll go for day care?”
“Worcester State has a center on-campus,” Heather said, “so I’ll bring him to work with me when I go back next fall; I’m taking a sabbatical this school year. His name’s not Tom, though.”
“It’s not? With all the people named ‘Tom’ in your families?”
“We felt it was more important to name him something else,” TC answered.
“Okay, so, what’s his name?”
TC looked at his wife and gave her a slight nod. Heather looked Jeff in the eye before answering: “Jeffrey.”
Jeff almost dropped the baby. “What?”
“Jeffrey Cavanaugh Pelley.”
“Why did you choose that name?”
“Pelley’s obvious, Cavanaugh to honor Heather’s mother and grandparents, and Jeffrey to honor you, dummy.”
“Jeffrey was also my father’s middle name,” Heather said, which was something Jeff hadn’t known until now. “Kevin Jeffrey Donnelly.”
“You’re my best friend, Jeff, and have been since we met at Benning years ago. As badly as I treated you after Panama you still tried to be my friend, and then you kept in touch with my family. If my son can be half that loyal to his friends, I’ll be happy. You’ve been the little brother Heather’s always wanted since you two met in ‘88, and have brought her family new life and new happiness. Heather and I don’t get to this point in our lives without you.”
“Keep going straight through the intersection after the commissary, sir,” his passenger directed; the poor kid looked frightened every time Jeff looked over. “There’s a four-way stop there.”
I think he’s sitting at attention, Jeff thought. “Specialist Motyka - Toby - is it okay if I call you ‘Toby’ by the way?” The nervous Army medic in the passenger’s seat nodded. “Toby, these stars on my collar don’t mean anything outside my company, okay? I am most emphatically not a general; in fact I was an E-5 in the Army.”
“You were a sergeant, sir, uh, Sergeant?”
“Yep, an acting squad leader by the time I got out. My name’s Jeff, okay? Civilian EMS is pretty informal.”
“Uh, they told us to be respectful, sir, uh, Jeff.”
“And I’ll let you know if you aren’t, trust me.” Jeff chuckled. “I’ve been known to tell doctors where to get off, sometimes right in the middle of the emergency room.” Toby’s eyes bugged out at that one. “Toby, in the Army you’re a ‘medic’ and everyone gets that you guys can do lots of medical things. In the civilian world, to the majority of the public, we’re ‘ambulance drivers’ and nothing more; if you decide to pursue a career in EMS after you ETS you’ll find that feeling exists even in the hospitals, at least outside of the regular ER staff. A few times, some doctors-in-training got a little too big for their britches and I called them on it in front of their supervising doctors. I was lucky that those senior doctors were okay with what I’d done; things could have turned out badly for me if they hadn’t been.”
“How do you mean?”
“EMS is supposed to be an extension of the hospital, the ER specifically, into the streets; we’re all supposed to be one big, happy family.”
“Like the Army.”
“Right. Not always the case, but that’s the theory anyway. I’ll give you respect right up until the point you no longer earn it. If the other docs hadn’t agreed with that philosophy my life could have been difficult.”
“Turn left here, Jeff.” Jeff did so and stopped at a security checkpoint. Toby handed the MP some document while explaining who they were; the MP inspected the paper, checking something on a clipboard, before she waved them through.
“Where are we now?”
“Marne Street,” Toby explained. “On either side of us is the base golf course, Red Tail; it’s a nine-hole course but they’re in the middle of building it out to an eighteen-hole course.”
“I can see why the speed limit here is only fifteen miles-an-hour, then. Why the guard shack, though?”
“They’re moving the on-post ammo storage to a hill on the east shore of Little Mirror Lake, which is down here, so they can keep expanding Red Tail. They’re also going to move the 10th Special Forces’ offices down here along with building them their own mini training area, hence the extra security; rumor has it the 10th will also help guard the ammo dump while they run exercises around it. Turn left.”
“Not like they’re leaving us much choice,” Jeff muttered. There were signs on the barriers blocking the road ahead directing all traffic to turn left. Jeff could see buildings through the trees beyond them.
“Salerno Housing,” Toby commented. “They’re tearing the units down to clean up the area before they build the 10th‘s new home.” Jeff looked over. “Asbestos.” They arrived at a T-intersection, with the cross-street marked “East Perimeter Road;” there was a sturdy-looking ten-foot high fence off the shoulder on the opposite side of the road.
“The concertina wire is a nice touch. Very welcoming.”
Toby chuckled while telling him to turn right. “The MPs call this ‘The Eastside Expressway’ or ‘Perimeter Parkway.’ This used to be a rail line that ran along the east edge of the base. After the World Trade Center bombing in ‘93 the commanding general here convinced the railroad to close this branch line as a security concern. The MPs use it as the main patrol road for this side of both Main and South Post.” The two-lane road meandered through an almost-straight ravine until they came to a structure Jeff recognized.
“That’s Route 2, isn’t it?” There was a large concrete tunnel ahead which passed under the highway topped with a familiar-looking fence complete with concertina wire.
“Yes. There’s another tunnel like this one about fifty yards to our west, but we can’t get to it directly because of the wetlands between here and there; we won’t be able to get to it without driving around much of South Post’s perimeter.”
“And they’re going to allow us to use this road in emergencies?”
“They already allow access to the base fire trucks and ambulances; I can’t see why they wouldn’t allow your vehicles to use it.”
Thirty minutes later they crossed back under the highway through the west tunnel. Jeff followed Toby’s instructions and they popped up near the base hospital.
“That’s the place they’re replacing, right?” Jeff asked.
“Right; that’s Cutler Army Hospital. They want to build the new place on the other side of the river where the original base hospital was, just down the street from your base.”
“It’s almost lunch time. There’s a little place over on Main Street in Shirley we can hit.”
“Sure, I’ve been there a few times; they have some good food. Take the left on Givry Road up ahead; we can go through the gate behind the high school to get to Shirley. It’s open this time of day.” While they passed the high school and were about to turn onto Main Street, however, their lunch planning was interrupted.
“Paramedic One, Operations?”
“Operations, P-One.”
“Paramedic One, assist Paramedic Three at one-fifteen Fitchburg Road in Ayer, one-one-five Fitchburg Road, Moore Gardens Apartments, for the apartment building fire. Reports of multiple residents trapped.”
Jeff hit the emergency lights on his SUV and turned east on Main Street.
“P-One has one-fifteen Fitchburg, Moore Gardens, from the Shirley base.”
“Operations, add Sierra One to the response from Devens Regional High School in Shirley, please.”
“Sierra One and Paramedic One have the response.”
Jeff turned up his scanner while they sped up Walker Road. He heard the first arriving Ayer police officer call on-scene and report fire already venting out two floors; Ayer’s fire chief immediately called for a second alarm, then a third once he arrived minutes later.
“Toby, once we get on-scene put that safety vest and your helmet on right away and stick close.” His passenger nodded. “This isn’t gonna be good,” Jeff muttered to himself.
They rounded a curve at the Ayer-Shirley line and the apartment complex came into view. The top three floors of the building which backed up to the Nashua River were already heavily involved; residents of that building were milling around the parking lot for the middle building of the three in the complex, despite the cold weather. A north-northwest wind pushed the fire’s smoke plume towards the Army’s airfield on the opposite side of the road obscuring the control tower. Jeff pulled his SUV into the complex and found a spot to park which was out of the way, and where they wouldn’t get blocked in. DMD’s Paramedic One followed Ayer’s Ambulance Two in and they did the same, but closer to the building. Ayer’s Ambulance One was already in the complex along with Paramedic Three; they wouldn’t be going anywhere.
Paul Estrada, one of DMD’s first employees, was the senior medic on Paramedic Three and acted as EMS Commander for the fire. He was in the middle of briefing the other EMS crews when Jeff and Toby walked up. Trying to remain upwind of the fire put the responders on the north side of the building, exposing them to the biting wind; the air temperature hovered just above freezing on this late-November day, but not by much. Light snow swirled around them in the wind.
“What do you need, Paul?” Jeff asked once the briefing concluded.
“I want to have ambulance loading over there where the driveway splits between these two buildings; trucks can pull in, circle around to the other side of the complex and pull back out onto the road again. We’ll need to find a nearby parking lot to stage them in first. The police are working on traffic control. We’re setting up triage and sheltering the residents of this building in the community room of one-thirteen; I’ve turned Cubbie loose to be the Triage Officer over there.” Cubbie was Paul’s partner, Michael Libby, a transplant from Chicago and a die-hard Cubs fan. “You taking over EMS Command?”
“Not unless you want me to. I only came to see what kind of help you needed; this is your incident to run.”
“You’re the senior person here.”
“And you already have a good handle on things. How else are you going to gain experience running an incident?”
Paul nodded; he noticed the Army medic behind Jeff, the fluorescent orange of Toby’s safety vest standing out against his uniform’s woodland camouflage. “One of Tara’s?” he asked nodding at the soldier.
“Yeah, top of the class, too. He was showing me around the base today now that we’re going to start responding on-post. We were on our way to lunch when we heard the call come in.”
“Always the way, isn’t it, Boss?”
“Sure is. Okay to have him shadow you?”
“He should probably work with Cheryl and Stewie over there on P-One; he’s more likely to see something useful with them. He’s in the Army so I’m sure he knows chain-of-command already. ICS can wait for another day.”
“Sounds good. Did we switch channels yet?”
Instead of answering Paul asked Operations for a separate channel for the incident’s radio traffic. Jeff nodded and changed channels on his radio while leading Toby over to Paramedic One and its crew. He’d barely finished the introductions when a firefighter emerged from the smoke in the building’s lobby carrying a small bundle. The firefighter looked around for the closest ambulance and ran over once he spotted it. Toby was the first person in the group the firefighter reached; he thrust the bundle into Toby’s arms.
It was an infant, maybe six months old; she was covered in soot and her skin was peeling off in dirty sheets. Toby stared at the child in his hands, rooted to the spot.
“In the truck!” Cheryl Powers barked, spinning Toby around and pushing him towards the ambulance. Ayer’s firefighter-EMTs and Stewie Sherman piled into the vehicle behind the soldier, now shaken from his shock, while he placed his patient on the stretcher; Toby began pulling off his helmet, vest and field jacket once his hands were empty. Jeff closed the back doors of the ambulance to retain the heat inside. Through the windows he could see the five crew members working on the small child. After a few minutes’ effort Stewie and one of the Ayer FF/EMTs hopped out.
“Ayer Community,” Stewie said on the way to Paramedic One’s SUV. “She’s in cardiac arrest.”
“Meet you there.” Jeff jogged back to his own SUV, informing EMS Command of the units leaving the scene. By the time he’d reached his truck the other two units were already out of sight. He turned his emergency lights off once out of the parking lot and drove to the hospital.
At the hospital Jeff began collecting the trash in the back of Ayer’s ambulance, keeping an eye out for needles his paramedics may have used. He left the doors to the back of the ambulance open while he cleaned to try and get the stench of singed flesh out. Trash collected, he brought P-One’s equipment to their truck, cleaned it and put it away. Only then did he go looking for the crew.
The doctor had already pronounced their patient dead. Ayer’s EMTs pushed their stretcher out of the treatment room; Stewie and Cheryl trailed behind. Jeff raised an eyebrow to Cheryl and she tossed her head back towards the room. He nodded in understanding.
Toby was staring at the child from the corner of the room, her lifeless body caught in the glare of the bright spotlight hanging above her while the nurses began to clean her up. Jeff recognized the look on his face and in his eyes: haunted and unfocused.
He needs your support, a voice whispered.
Jeff stepped over and put a hand on his shoulder. Toby’s gaze shifted to Jeff; fat tears began to fall from his eyes immediately. Jeff pulled the young man to a chair, kept his arm around him and let him cry it out. Looking behind himself Jeff saw the nurses leave and close the door behind them.
“How do you deal with things like this, Jeff?” Toby sniffed five minutes later while still looking at his patient.
“I’m still learning how, Toby. Everyone has a call which will eventually get to them; some get out of EMS before that happens, but many don’t. Mine was back in July.”
“What was it?”
Jeff told Toby the story; he could see it play out in his head while he did so. He made it through the tale without breaking down.
“I remember seeing the story on the news,” Toby said. “I’d just come back from leave; I’d met my niece for the first time, she was about her age.” He waved at his patient. “This didn’t really hit me until we were here and I had time to think about what just happened.”
Jeff nodded at the familiar scenario. “Find someone to talk to, Toby. A shrink, a chaplain, someone. Don’t let it eat you up inside.” Jeff drew in a deep breath. “Did you do everything you could?” Toby thought, then nodded. “I know Cheryl and Stewie did, and the guys from Ayer, too. That’s all you can do, even as a paramedic.”
“Do you think he’ll be alright?” Tara Bergeron asked Jeff after he’d brought Toby back to his barracks. A total of nine residents of Moore Gardens Apartments died in the fire which rendered one-third of that building uninhabitable.
“I think so; he looked better after my little pep-talk. He said he was going over to the post’s chapel in the morning after PT; he’s not on-duty until the afternoon. I let him know about the debrief tomorrow and told his CO.”
“What a way to begin the program,” she said, shaking her head. “How are you doing?”
“Okay,” Jeff shrugged. “This call doesn’t seem to have the impact the one in Medford did. It might be because she wasn’t the same age as my kids, that I wasn’t involved in her care, or any number of reasons. Doesn’t mean that I won’t think about her every five minutes for the next few days.”
Tara nodded. “Heading home?”
“I’ve got a couple of emails to answer before I do but, yeah. I’ll go surprise Keiko and the kids over at Big Steps.”
“How did you get soot all over the back of your uniform?”
“I was cleaning the back of Ayer’s ambulance when one of the crew’s bunker coats fell off a hook and landed on me.”
“Nice job,” she said sarcastically.
“There’ll be a memo coming out tomorrow concerning uniforms: green shirts for everyone. White uniform shirts for shift commanders and other road supervisors will be changed to the standard green.” Jeff caught the look on Tara’s face. “I know white shirts for paramedics have been the thing since you used to work at Suburban-North Paramedics, but I believe everyone here should wear the same uniform. Which is why they call it a ‘uniform‘ in the first place.”
Jeff left the building a few minutes later and walked to his truck; he looked skyward while standing next to the vehicle. He closed his eyes and felt the snowflakes land on his cheeks before melting away.
Take care of her, Lily. We’ll watch over Toby.
“‘Over Easy,’ this is Annie.”
“Yes, hi, this is Neptune’s Forge customer service. We’re wondering how your model 101HF is working out for you?”
“It’s working just fine, Jeff, thank you.”
“I’m sorry, miss, but my name is Rupert...”
“Uh, huh. And mine’s Rube. You know we have this thing called ‘Caller ID’ up here now, right?”
“Well, where’s the fun in that?” Jeff groused. “How are you Annie?”
“We’re okay, thanks. Why call the restaurant? You know I’ll be home in a few minutes; you know our closing schedule.”
“I wanted to see how the furnace was working, honestly. That’s a business-related phone call, so I called the business.”
“We love it; we’re saving up for one for the house, too. Aren’t you going to get in trouble for making calls from work, though? I hear the manager of the place is a real prick.”
“They can deduct it from my pay. How’s your Dad?”
“Happier than the proverbial pig in shit to be getting a check from Central Maine Power, rather than sending them one every month. We made back the money we lost when we were closed within two months of installing the new furnace, thanks to you.”
“It wouldn’t have happened if you guys didn’t run a good business, Annie.”
“Well, we could sit here all day and compliment each other, but I have a restaurant to close up. I’ll call you back in a half-hour, ok?”
“Sobo! Sofu!” the kids yelled while dashing across the living room. Keiko’s parents barely made it through the front door before they were almost tackled by their grandchildren; they’d landed in Manchester, New Hampshire two hours ago and arrived in Lancaster just after dinner finished.
“Are they going to play football?” Hiro asked while tickling Alex. “They hit pretty hard.”
“Football? Hockey for two of them, though I think Alex will reserve his hits for opposing catchers trying to block home plate. How was your flight?” The men settled into chairs in the living room while the women took the kids upstairs to get ready for bed.
“Flying into Manchester is certainly easier than into Boston as far as traffic goes. We had to stop in Chicago on the way here, and we’ll have to go through Detroit on the way home, but it wasn’t too bad.”
“Are you still moving out this way?”
“When you came out to Spokane in 1991 you were on terminal leave, correct?”
“Right.”
“I am now, too. My last day at Cascade was December first. I took an early retirement package with a six-month severance.”
“Big change.”
“Very true. The next change is deciding where to move to, specifically how close to you and the kids.”
“As close as you want, as far as we’re concerned.”
“Even next door?”
“Hiro,” Jeff laughed, “‘next door’ is a minimum of a football field away in any direction! You won’t be right on top of us unless you live in a tent in the back yard! Personally, I wouldn’t recommend that this year.”
“With almost two feet of snow out there, I’m not about to try it. I doubt Mayumi would even consider it; she’d be up in your guest room permanently!” Both laughed. “The lot at the far end of the back yard is taken, but the house on the other side of your property is still for sale. The agent we’ve been working with says it’s been on the market for close to six months; she believes she’ll be able to get the owners to come down in price significantly.”
“I’m guessing it’s priced too high now?”
“It is,” Hiro confirmed. “The people who originally built it didn’t spend the money to make it as nice as your house, and it wasn’t built as well. There are quite a few upgrades and fixes needed which we believe will help bring the price down; our agent says the owners are starting to understand that. If we can jump on it during the winter, when people don’t typically go house hunting here, we might catch a break.”
“Any concerns with the place structurally?”
“No, it seems to be okay there. The subcontractors doing the finish work weren’t up to the same level as yours were, the roofers being the exception.”
“I know Keiko would love to have you both closer, especially while the kids grow up.”
“And my son-in-law?”
“Takahashi-sama, you entrusted me with a most precious gift years ago: your daughter. You’d known me for about five minutes yet you trusted your son’s judgment about his best friend, and you trusted Keiko’s first impression of me, also. I am forever in your family’s debt for what I have received. I would be glad to have you nearby.”
“Our family is in no less debt, Jeff. Your children, the return of my family, the way your family has welcomed us? All are priceless.”
Jeff’s family held their traditional Christmas party a week later. Keiko and Jeff tried to host a New Year’s party for their friends the week after that, but two snow storms kept the guest list small.
“Not a lot of folks here, Jeff,” one of their guests commented.
“Over half a foot of snow yesterday will do that for you. Truthfully, I’m surprised you and Annie drove down.”
“Eh,” Brian shrugged. “Our house and the ‘Over Easy’ parking lot were cleared before we left Stoneham. We’d rather spend our vacation with friends.”
“I don’t blame you. How’s business?”
“Going great! Everyone came right back after we reopened and the furnace you sent our way is humming right along; I love how we can use the snow piles from plowing the lot to supply the boiler! That thing sips water; one six-inch snowfall would run that thing all winter. Are you sure we can’t make you a partner or something?”
“Like I’ve been telling Annie, Brian, we didn’t help you guys out for any other reason than you’re our friends. Our investments in Neptune’s Forge will pay dividends of near eight or nine figures eventually.”
Brian Dufualt shook his head, unable to fathom that amount of money. Later Jeff was able to catch up with Charlie Flaherty, someone he hadn’t seen in months. The two old schoolmates shared a hug before sitting down with their drinks; the blaze in the fireplace held their gaze while they chatted.
“How’s life at Malden Hospital?”
“Coming to an end, Jeff,” she replied, sipping her white wine. “I’ll start at Mass General’s ER after the first of the year.”
“Congratulations, Charlie! I know you’ve wanted to work in town. I think you’ll like working with Jason Atherton and Josh Snow when they’re the Attendings in the ER; I got to know both during medic school and they treat the staff very well. I got along with just about everyone else there, too.”
“I’m looking forward to it. I’m sad to be leaving my friends at Malden, but change is good.”
“And the band? Still chugging along?”
Charlie frowned. “This will be our last year.”
“What? Why?”
“Most of us have kids now, and almost all of us have jobs with more responsibilities. The time we have for the band is shrinking.” She sighed. “We’ll play our last show at The Draughthouse in Provincetown at the end of summer.”
January 2001 began quietly enough, but two storms added another foot to the few inches left over from the December thirtieth storm. Jeff stood on the Fort Devens fire station apron in early February watching the latest storm deposit another foot.
“Sorry we couldn’t offer you a spot for your truck inside,” remarked the deputy chief on-duty, Peter Fancher.
“No worries, Dep; I just stopped by to check in with P-Four and see if they needed anything. I’ll be headed back to our Shirley base in a few minutes, now that I’ve checked in with all of our units.”
“I can’t believe you were just standing out here.”
“There’s a sense of peace I get during storms like this, the ones without wind. The falling snow muffles ambient sound and there’s a soft hiss while the flakes are landing; I like it. It’s strange but I love working these storms when we’re in the middle of them; then I talk about how they’re a pain in the ass afterward.”
“Well, this kid from Arizona’s not too happy with all of this white stuff; I’m happier in the summer.”
“You don’t have to shovel sunshine, right?”
“Right,” Fancher laughed.
“My kids are gonna love all this snow when they wake up.”
“What about your wife?”
“Her, too. She’s a teacher over at Devens Regional, so she probably won’t have school tomorrow.”
“Are you going to get any sleep tonight?”
“I’ve got a cot set up in my office,” Jeff shrugged. “I’ve slept in lots of places that were worse. Whether I sleep will be up to the EMS gods.”
“Well, I’m going back inside before I turn into a popsicle.”
Jeff looked up in response to the knock on his door in early April. “Hey, Toby! Come on in!” He rose to shake the young medic’s hand, noticing something new on the front of his uniform. “You passed! Congratulations!”
“Thanks, Jeff. That testing was pretty brutal, let me tell you!” Toby’d been at Fort Dix for skills testing the past two weeks.
“I can only imagine; my EIB testing was a ballbuster!”
The Army’s Expert Field Medical Badge is one of the hardest skill badges to earn in that branch of the military, with pass rates hovering between fifteen to twenty percent of the soldiers tested. In addition to showing proficiency in basic skills - land navigation, radio use, physical fitness, etc. - the candidate must also demonstrate exceptional medical proficiency under fire. The Combat Medic Badge and its Infantry counterpart, the Combat Infantryman’s Badge, acknowledge performance under fire; the EFMB and EIB recognize expert performance, knowing one’s job to the letter.
“I came by to tell you that I just received my next orders. I’ll PCS to Fort Ord and the 7th Light Infantry in about four months; I’ll be promoted to sergeant when I re-up, too.”
“Congratulations again, Toby. Ord will be closer to your family, won’t it?”
“Lincoln, Nebraska is close to the geographical center of the country so not really. It’ll be a different coast for my family to visit, though.”
“How are you doing otherwise?”
“Okay,” the young soldier shrugged. “There are days when I can still smell that fire and burnt flesh, but my chaplain helped me through the rough spots. Like you told me: we can’t save everyone, we can only make sure we do our best.”
“You’re going to do what?”
“I’m putting in for one of the open supervisor slots here at Brophy,” Shawna LeStrange told Jeff.
“Why come off the road?”
“Part of it is the same reason you did: because someone suggested I put in for the position. Another part of it is that I’m not having as much fun as a street medic any longer. These new kids are a lot of work, too; I had one of them tell me I wasn’t her boss last week, and it was all I could do not to lose my cool with her. I want to help train the newbies up, and I feel I can do more as a supervisor.”
“I wish you the best of luck. Have you been called for an interview yet?”
“It’s next Friday; I’ll find out if I have one of the positions by mid-May.”
