The Unknown Twin

“Nope.”

Will pushed away from the wall. “Good.”

Alex asked, “Will? Your wife, Mareeta?”

“Yeah?”

“Is she high maintenance?”

“In my experience, Shields, all women are. You just gotta find one who’s worth it.” He nodded to the bay. “We saved you some food. What time are we training?”

“This afternoon. About four, if there are no calls.”

“On what?”

“Orientation for that new warehouse they just finished over on Twelfth Street.”

The PA blared. “Car accident at Ronstat Street. Truck One and Paramedic One go into service.”

Alex grabbed his stuff. “That’s me,” he said, and raced out of the john.

When he got back, he did some paperwork until four, then called the group together. There were nineteen of them, including the HazMat guys, who were also housed in the Jefferson Avenue firehouse. They’d need this training, too, because the warehouse would contain hazardous material.

When the crowd settled down, Alex explained the purpose of the session and told them they’d be going to the site on their next shift to check out the place before it opened. He gave them stats with questions to go with them. “I’d like you to look at the information I’ve got here. First, the warehouse is three thousand square feet. How long will it take to search it out for victims?”

“Not usually a lot of people in a warehouse.” This from LaSpino.

“No, but a thorough search still needs to be done.”

Somebody suggested a time frame.

“So how long does one SCBA last?”

They got the picture and discussed ways to search effectively and divvy the warehouse into manageable parts to accommodate their air supply.

“Second point—which hoses do we lay?”

Janey tackled this one. “Our usual? The one and three-quarters.”

Alex said, “It’s only forty-five feet long. Can it make it to all the walls?” When everybody shrugged, he said, “Let’s figure it out.” They did the math on a blackboard Alex had set up behind him. That length of hose would stretch to some walls and not others. They discussed alternatives.

In the next hour, Alex covered other points: he talked about what would be housed in the warehouse from the list provided by the owners. They studied it.

“Now let’s analyze the conditions here that you wouldn’t encounter in a bedroom fire. Any suggestions?”

The guys speculated there would be additional oxygen from all the doors that would be open when they attacked with water. They also mentioned decreased visibility.

Alex ended the session with some recommendations of his own: “We need to use the closest access doors. We need to back up with larger lines. And accountability is an absolute.” He waited for this to sink in. “Last thing to talk about is the trusses…”

When they finished training, it was after five. Restless, Alex wanted some fresh air and privacy. He grabbed the paper and headed outside before dinner. Telling himself he was just curious, he sat at the picnic table and flipped to the comics. Lauren’s cartoon, Dee and Me, wasn’t in every day, so it probably wasn’t even here.

It was.

Frame One:

The ocean. Deirdre and Lily stand on the dock. Deirdre wears a chic suit, holds a surfboard. Come on, Lily, let me show you.

Lily is dressed in a dowdy bathing suit, horn-rimmed sunglasses and has zinc oxide on her nose. I can’t swim. You know that.

Frame Two:

Dee is in the water. You said you were taking lessons.

The bubbles indicate Lily’s thoughts. I wish I was more like her.

Frame Three:

Lily stands on the dock looking dejected. She’s at the very end, where waves crash, watching Dee, mumbling Some people have all the fun.

Frame Four:

Other swimmers jostle Lily as they jump into the water.

Lily teeters on the edge of the dock after one particular shove.

Frame Five:

A big, muscle-bound boy skids into view, grabs her from behind before she falls.

A little eek comes from Lily.

Alex reread the cartoon. Hmm. A shy retiring female being rescued. Did this have something to do with her? With him? He glanced up at the building temporarily housing the newspaper. He’d never been a no-means-yes kind of guy, but the comic, coupled with the cookies, made him think trying again for a date was a good idea. He’d just whipped out his cell phone to call her, when she emerged from the building.

With news reporter Toby Hanson. Toby covered the fire-department beat and often showed up at their calls. The guy was her height, slender, nicely dressed. He wore wire-rimmed glasses. Alex remembered thinking before he was kind of nerdy, not really a man’s man. Right now, he had his hand at Lauren’s back. They walked toward a small Toyota, and Hanson opened the passenger door for her. She was just about to get in when she looked up. She must have seen Alex staring, phone in hand, because she gave a slight wave and slid into the car.

I’m busy.

For some reason, he had never thought about her having a boyfriend. So that’s why she’d blown Alex off.

It made him feel better to know that.

Sort of.

LAUREN STARED at Toby Hanson and realized that she’d never been more bored. Immediately, she chided herself for the unkind thought. Toby had been sweet and sincere with her since she arrived in Courage Bay. “I’m sorry about not sitting on the rooftop,” he said. “My allergies are bothering me.”

“That’s all right.” She’d have preferred to be in the outdoor restaurant. Would Alex have wanted to sit up there? “This is a great place inside, too.” It was. The Courage Bay Bar and Grill was an off-duty hangout for the rescue personnel in the community and bore signs of its main customers.

“Isn’t it? The father of the owners, the Goodmans, bought this building when it was an old movie theater, then converted it to a restaurant. His son Larry and daughter-in-law run it now. They’re all descendants of the sailors of the Ranger who settled here.”