Marta Perry - Hero Dad

She slipped to the side, lifting the camera. She might not understand their ambition, but she didn’t need to in order to get a good shot.

The next few moments were a jumble of shouts, groans and straining muscles. The huge ladder seemed to take on a life of its own. It began to sway, almost out of control, and Julie stepped back. She didn’t need the warning glance Seth shot her to know it was dangerous.

Then Seth and Gabe took hold of the thing and in an instant it smacked against the building. Seth stepped back, grinning, and dusted off his hands.

“Attitude, people. Attitude. You don’t let the Fifty know you’re not confident.”

It took a second for Julie to realize the Fifty was the ladder. He made it sound like an ally.

Gabe lifted an eyebrow at his brother. “Pretty cocky, aren’t you? Let’s see how you do against me in a hose relay. Pick your three.”

Seth pointed to two of the trainees. Then he pointed at her.

“Oh, no.” She didn’t know what a hose relay was, and she had no desire to learn.

“Yes.” Seth took the camera from her and set it atop the camera bag. “You’ve been watching long enough. Time to get your hands dirty.”

He didn’t think she’d do it. He was looking at her with a challenge in his eyes, and he thought she’d turn him down.

She should. She hadn’t been physically challenged in years. Mentally and artistically, maybe, but not physically. She was offended at the idea that he’d judge her on the basis of brute strength, but worried at the same time about that strength.

Her eyes narrowed. “Tell me what to do.”

He clapped her shoulder the way Gabe had clapped his. It nearly made her stagger.

“All right. Come with me.”

Gabe had already picked his team, and they stood waiting.

The relay actually seemed simple enough. Grab the hose, race forward with it on the signal to the next member of the team, and pass it on. The first team across the line Gabe had drawn in the dirt won.

A few minutes later Julie was outfitted in one of the blue jumpsuits. She waited with dancing nervousness on the mark Seth pointed out to her.

Seth had put the two trainees first. She had the third leg and he had the fourth. Obviously he expected her to lose ground that he intended to make up.

She jogged a few steps, loosening up. Seth just might be in for a surprise. She might not haul fifty-foot ladders, but she did run every day.

Gabe checked the positions of both teams. Then he blew his whistle. The first two trainees raced forward. She watched intently, jogging in place. Obviously the challenge lay in hauling the hose, not in running. The runners sweated and panted as they passed off, almost in a dead heat.

The woman who was second on their team ran toward her, making it look easy until her foot somehow tangled with the hose and she stumbled. There were a few catcalls, then cheers as she righted herself and charged on.

Like a race at school, Julie told herself. Nothing to be nervous about. The woman reached her, thrusting the hose into her hands.

Don’t trip, don’t trip. She ran forward, hauling the hose. It felt like a living creature that dragged at her arms, unwilling to move.

Then she realized that the others were cheering for her. Had anyone ever cheered for her before? For some reason the sound pushed her forward. Panting, forcing her legs to move, she reached the line and handed off to Seth.

She leaned over, gasping for breath. The other woman on her team pounded her on the back. “Good job. You gained us a couple of feet.” She ran on, cheering Seth as he headed for the finish line.

I did? She pushed herself toward the line as Seth crossed it several feet ahead of his brother.

She was swept into a melee of high fives and cheers. Seth lifted her off her feet in a hug. “Good job, Julie. Good job. Who would think a little thing like you could run that fast with a hose?”

“Hey, bro, you only won because you brought a ringer with you.” Gabe pounded her back. “Good work. Next time you can be on my team.”

“No chance.” Seth slung his arm around her shoulders in a casual hug. “I saw her first.”

She felt a contrary wave of pride. They’d won a race. What difference did that make?

For some reason, Paul’s words popped into her mind. “Seeing that I am surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, I run the race that is set before me.”

There was more realism in that comparison than she’d seen before. You did run faster when you were aware of people cheering you on.

And maybe Seth had taught her something she needed to know about firefighters. That purely visceral response to a physical challenge was part of their everyday life. Without it, they probably couldn’t do what they had to do, like raise a fifty-foot ladder, haul a bundle of hose up a flight of stairs or race into a burning building without looking back.

Seth needed that kind of competitive response on the job. But what about turning it off when he went home to his little boy?

Seth caught the pitch Ryan sent his way and tossed the ball underhand to Mary Kate’s oldest. The little girl missed the catch but ran shouting after the ball, chased by her younger brother. The ball disappeared into the thick cluster of fallen leaves under the maple tree in Gabe and Nolie’s side yard, and they scrambled into the leaves like a pair of puppies.

This might be the last Sunday afternoon picnic of the fall at Nolie’s Ark, the farm where Gabe and Nolie raised and trained their service animals. The picnics had become a tradition in the few short months since their wedding. Seth hated seeing it come to an end, but the days were getting cooler already.

The expanse of green lawn was studded here and there with beds filled with the bronze and gold of mums. A couple of miniature horses, a goat and a donkey grazed in the fenced pasture, lifting their heads now and then to watch the Flanagan clan at play.

Seth saw Gabe and Nolie come out of the red barn, and Gabe caught his wife close for a quick kiss before they parted, with Nolie heading toward the kitchen and Gabe coming toward him. Watching them was bittersweet.

Would he and Lisa have had that incandescent happiness if she’d lived? Or would the unhappiness that had often shadowed his wife’s eyes have gotten worse with the years? He would never know.

“I see she’s still taking pictures.” Gabe, reaching him, nodded toward the group under the trees. The kids played like puppies, and Julie knelt, her gold sweatshirt blending with the leaves, snapping away.

“That’s why she’s here.” He glanced at the picnic tables, where his mother and Terry were spreading tablecloths. “She’ll have to stop long enough to eat, or Mom will be unhappy.”

“She gave up the camera at the training academy, didn’t she?” Gabe elbowed him. “She surprised you.”

“Well, I asked her to participate. I just didn’t think she would.”

He also hadn’t thought she’d do as well as she had. Hauling hose at a dead run wasn’t easy, but she’d managed. That deceptively fragile air of hers had thrown him.

“You were trying to scare her off.” Gabe’s assessment was blunt, as always. It had never been any good trying to put something over on his big brother. “Why?”

He shrugged, not even sure himself why he wanted to discourage Julie. “I guess I don’t like the idea of being put on display in some magazine.”

“Me, either.”

The quiet words made him ashamed. Gabe had more reason than he did to shun the spotlight, but Gabe had conquered his initial frustration with his disability. He even voluntarily went out on speaking engagements with Max, knowing that his actions helped other people with disabilities.

“She’s just doing her job.” Gabe nodded toward Julie, who had gone over to the tables and was talking to his mother. “Give her a break, will you?”