Tom did a u-turn and somehow (remembering days later) drove down Pilot Knob without hitting a light. When we crested Esquire by Daisy Knoll Park Tom exclaimed. He saw the fire on the garage roof already.
I remember seeing Kyle in the Camry parked by the cul de sac, but I ran towards the house. He was safe, broken, frightened but safe. My cats were the only thing on my mind. Open the FUCKING DOORS! let the cats have escape routes.
shit... i just can't... the cats make me cry more than anything...
The officer that grabbed me and held me back was so strong. I'm sure he held me up as much as held me back from running to the house.
Part of my head wondered why the firefighters were moving so slow but the crazy logical part of me knows. They are lives, souls, precious people that need to be cautious and methodical. It's just stuff, just a structure.... except for my cats...
Tom tells me days later that the firefighters could hear explosions... 2 propane tanks, car tires, numerous aerosol cans. Was it ammunition? Be safe, don't rush in. Plan your attack. We don't own any guns or ammunition.
An angel came out in her robe into the freezing cold. Cold that was causing near convulsions from shivering. After much prodding and encouragement took us into her home where we sat in her bay windowed breakfast nook that I frequently have admired and watched the firefighters attack. We watched the flare ups and the ladder truck extend up and attack.
I sat there helpless, watching, listening to conversation around me but not hearing the words. I looked at my phone... ridiculous... why post this ... such a social media slave... but that is where my worlds come together. That is where I reach the most of the people I know. So I posted, almost ashamed of doing it.
Looking at the fire trucks in the dark street back lit by flames I realized I might know one of them. I hoped he was there because I know of his work ethic and found comfort that a friend might already be helping me. All the firefighters are probably cut of the same cloth, but just thinking that he might be there was of some comfort. If he was there then it was likely his wife wasn't sleeping soundly, so I messaged her and learned that he was indeed at a scene. Once the flames were gone and I was able to get just a tiny bit closer I sought him out. He was there. I wish I hadn't. I saw his face change. I saw his eyes change. I hope I didn't make it harder to do his job.
The front door had been opened and the firefighters thought they may have seen a cat escape. They weren't sure, but at the time that helped. But the cold... the frigid cold. I just couldn't be there anymore. We couldn't get close. There was nothing to do. Kyle, Brian and I finally left to go to the condo. Tom stayed to talk with the police and firefighters about the cat and the fire, what little that could be talked about at 2 am on a frigid night full of icy water and smoldering structure.
I pretty much collapsed on the bed and Kyle on the couch. I remember Tom coming in at 4:30. I was awake by 5:30. It was a hopeless night of no sleep.
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