Looking for Miracles (16 page)

“Are the fire engines coming?” Tyler looked up at her.

“Soon. Very soon,” Lori promised, praying that it was true. It would take a huge blaze and plenty
of wind for anything else on the property, except her beaten-up old car, to be in danger, but it was always possible. If the firefighters got here soon, she would feel a lot better. She strained to hear sirens.

“Will they need mine? Mom?” Tyler pulled on her arm. “Where’s my fire engine?”

Lori tried to pay attention to Tyler’s question. It surprised her that he was worried about a toy, even his favorite one. “Inside, I guess, sweetheart. We just got the important things, like people.” Lori realized with a pang that none of them had any clothes except for what they had slept in. For her that was old flannel boxers and a T-shirt, and for the kids it was pajamas. Tyler didn’t even have shoes.

He broke away from her grasp, yelling, “I need my fire engine. Mike will need it. I have to get my fire engine so we can help.”

“No, Tyler. That’s a toy, and we have to just leave it for now. We have to go, Tyler. Now. Don’t go there,” Lori shrieked, running, but he broke away from her and went back into the house.

Her screaming made Mikayla cry louder. Lori stood at the door of the house, stunned. She couldn’t take the baby back in there. But she couldn’t leave Tyler inside, either.

Mike running across the grass was a vision. He
was truly her guardian angel this time. “Mike, Tyler went back inside. He said he had to get his fire engine. I couldn’t stop him. What do we do?”

He looked grim. Pushing her away from the door, back into the grass, Mike looked toward his apartment. “The trucks are on their way. But my oxygen and equipment are on one of those trucks. There’s no time to wait for it. Where would he be?”

“Heading for his bedroom. At least it’s away from where the fire started. But the smoke was so thick…” Lori felt tears streaming down her face. Mike put his hands on her shoulders, steering her farther from the house again.

“There’s no sense in telling you to go up to the house and sit with my mom. You won’t move any farther from here until I come out with Tyler.” He headed toward the house. “Keep Dogg out here with you. Don’t let him follow me into that fire, no matter what.”

“I’ll try,” Lori promised, reaching down for the animal’s collar. He whined, but didn’t growl or snap, even though he wanted to follow his master. She pulled the dog to her side and they huddled together in the grass as far away from the house as she dared get. And she prayed as she had never prayed before while two of the people most precious to her in the world were in terrible, terrible
trouble. For the present they were truly in God’s hands.

He couldn’t do this. Mike Martin stood just inside the kitchen door to the house, scanning the area for movement besides the roiling smoke. Where was Tyler? Could the boy even figure out the way to his bedroom in this mess?

Once inside, there wasn’t much choice of a path except to the bedrooms. The front of the house was an inferno. Tyler wouldn’t have gone to the basement, so he had to have headed into the bedrooms.

It was as if giant hands pushed him back, kept him from moving. Mike had never liked going into a house on fire. Some of the guys claimed to, but it had always been his least favorite situation. And this particular time, fear and something else even more elemental had him rooted to the spot.

I can’t do this. The words screamed in his brain while the smoke choked him. Was he going to be able to walk outside and tell Lori that? If they waited for the trucks to get there and somebody with proper gear to go after Tyler, it would probably be too late. At the very least he would suffer smoke inhalation and probably some burns.

Still not moving forward, Mike dropped to his knees. Smoke rose, so the best air, if there was any, would be nearer the floor. That was beginner’s
knowledge, something he should have remembered, and done, first thing.

His perspective matched Tyler’s from down here. And it dawned on him that it also matched Lori’s, not in real height, where she at least came to his collarbone or better. But in her trust and faith, she always seemed to be on her knees, talking to God.

She was praying for him and for Tyler right now. Mike knew that without even wondering. Knowing of her resolve, Mike made a decision himself. It was time for him to call upon that Lord that Lori held so dear.

He spoke the words out loud as smoke gagged him. “Lord, I haven’t been much of a believer. And maybe it’s wrong to come to You now when I need help so badly. But I can’t do this on my own. Help me find Tyler.”

He was on his hands and knees now, crawling through the dark area. The floor was smooth, so it was still kitchen vinyl tile. Or did the hallway continue in the same stuff? Mike racked his brain trying to remember. The layout of the small house was so familiar that he didn’t have to question where each room was. That was a blessing, maybe even one of those miracles Lori always talked about. He was going to need several to get out of here in one piece with Tyler. Especially when he couldn’t be
sure what the floor in each room was made out of, and in the hellish atmosphere around him, floor texture was his only guide.

The surface under his fingers was still smooth. Continuing to move forward, he swept the area as widely as possible with his fingertips. In front of him he hit wall and baseboards. He was in the hall. That meant he needed a left turn to reach the bedrooms.
Thank you, Jesus
. It was good to get this far and to know where he was.

One doorway, on the right. That would be the bathroom. That meant that Tyler’s room should be there on the left, just a few more feet down. He swept the area with his fingers again and found another break in the wall. The smoke was almost overpowering now, and the noise of the fire incredible.

“Tyler? You in there?” he called. There was no answer. Mike crawled into the room and raised up on his knees. He could see next to nothing. Shapes and shadows were the only landmarks in the dank smoke. In the corner was a shape that was probably the dresser. Closet doors gaped open and he reached inside. He found shoes, toys, but no little boy.

Coughing again, he backed out into the room. He had to find Tyler soon and get out of here. Their survival depended on it. Across from the closet,
flanking another wall was a twin bed. He remembered that from being in the house after Lori moved in. The room wasn’t large, only five or six steps of free space between the closet and bed. He shuffled on his knees over to the bed.

Mike could feel covers flung back and puddling on the floor. Strong instinct made him delve into the blankets on the floor. Wasn’t this where he would hide if he were a little kid in this situation? If not in the closet, under the bed was the “safest” place in your room. That was the way a little boy would think. It was the way he was being urged to think now. He could only thank God silently for the guidance while he groped.

At the corner of the bed he felt something warm and soft. It was a small foot, and he followed the path up to sturdy legs, hauling Tyler out from under the bed.

“Mike?” The child was only semiconscious. “I gotta have my fire engine.”

He had to cough for quite a while before he could answer the child he gathered in his arms. “Okay, buddy. I’ll grab it and you. Then we’re getting out of here. Come on.” Outwardly all he could do was choke on the fumes and smoke around them, but inwardly Mike was praising the God he had only found in this inferno of smoke and flames for leading him to Tyler. Now He had
to get them out of here and to the child’s mother. Breathing in a silent prayer, Mike knew that He was the only one who could do it.

They had been in there forever. Lori couldn’t believe how long it had been since Mike went into that house. Gloria was sitting next to her, holding Mikayla and trying to comfort her. Right now Gloria was doing a better job than she could have done herself.

Dogg was leashed and fastened to a tree next to them. If he pulled much harder, he was going to snap the metal lead or uproot the tree, she was sure. Barking and whining, he pulled with his whole body toward the house. Lori didn’t even try to quiet him because she felt the same way. She wanted to go in there with all her being, and only knowing that she would be absolutely no help kept her sitting on the ground, wrapped in the blanket Gloria had brought her.

Her prayers were constant and almost mindless. She couldn’t form coherent words anymore, just powerful thoughts of protection for Tyler and Mike. The house didn’t matter, but the people certainly did. Could they really come out all right after that much time in a burning building?

There were firefighters here now, Carrie among them. She was standing over Lori, shaking her
shoulder. “Where’s Mike? And where’s your little boy?”

“Tyler ran back in the house. Mike went after him. They’ve been gone too long…” Lori choked out. She had run out of words. Carrie looked toward the house.

“I’ve got to alert the captain we have people in there. Whoa, people coming out.” She launched herself toward the doorway, nearly obscured in black, oily smoke, where Lori could see a figure charging through.

It was Mike, with a limp Tyler under one arm and that darned fire engine that started it all clutched in the other hand. He only made it a few feet out into the grass before he loosed his precious burdens and fell to his knees.

Carrie was there to pick up Tyler and scream for others to help the two of them. In a flash the crew moved Mike and Tyler farther away from the house and there were medical personnel checking them both out.

Lori wanted to hold her boy, thank Mike for risking his life, talk to them both. But she held back at the edge of the crowd to let the paramedics do their job.

Were they both alive? All right? Her heart hammered in her throat as she searched the scene for clues. They were both sooty, but appeared to be
breathing. As she watched, one of the men quickly picked Tyler up and moved him into a sitting position where he choked and retched. “Mama! I want my mom!” he called.

Lori couldn’t stand being away from him any longer. She pushed her way through the onlookers. “I’m here, Ty. Now do whatever the doctors tell you, okay. Don’t fight them.” He was conscious now and struggling, and she stroked his face. His skin was smooth and unburned. “Is he okay?” she asked the nearest paramedic softly.

“I think so. He needs oxygen, for sure. We’ve got to get him stable, but I don’t think he’s been burned any.” He looked at Lori. “I’m going to take him over to the truck. Come with me.”

She nodded, looking over to where two other paramedics worked over Mike. “We need oxygen here, stat. Somebody cut away that shirt so we can assess the arms, neck, chest.” The smaller woman barked commands. With a touch of the surreal Lori realized that this was the team who had nearly delivered Mikayla.

Now here they were again, reaching out to save a life instead of welcoming one into the world. Following the man who cradled Tyler in his arms, she kept up her prayers for everyone involved. Now her prayers had words again, blessings for Kenny and Rosa as they worked over Mike, for the nameless
man who was giving her son oxygen, for all the people milling around here beginning to put out the fire and treat the people involved.

Looking back she could hear Dogg, still barking his lungs out under the tree. Beside him Gloria stood, white as the blanket around her shoulders, holding Mikayla and watching as Kenny and Rosa labored over her son.

They had so much in common at this moment. From across the yard, Lori prayed fervently.
Please, Lord, don’t let either of us lose our sons
. It was all she could do for now. Catching Gloria’s gaze across the space, she clasped her hands. Gloria saw the gesture and nodded, sinking down beside Dogg. Lori could see her lips moving, as well. Gloria had one arm around the baby, the other hand in the big animal’s fur. Dogg lay down next to her and stopped barking while around them all the chaos of the fire filled the yard.

Chapter Fifteen

M
ike opened his eyes and knew exactly where he was. He wasn’t happy with that knowledge, but he recognized the look and the smell of a hospital even before he could figure out why he was there. In a few moments that became clear, as well.

He was foggy, probably from drugs. If he’d sucked in as much smoke in that house as he expected he had, life wasn’t going to be pleasant for a couple of days. He couldn’t remember much after staggering out of the house with Tyler. Fresh air had never felt so good. Then Kenny and Rosa and others had swarmed over him and things got kind of hazy after that.

Time to try and take some kind of assessment of what was what. There was definitely an oxygen
mask over his face, but no breathing tube. That was a good sign. It was the worst smoke inhalation that he’d ever had to deal with, but the lack of a breathing tube, or a hole in his throat, were very good signs.

His right arm hurt worse than he could ever describe. He vaguely remembered thrusting it out on the charge out of Tyler’s bedroom, keeping a falling piece of ceiling from hitting the boy. Obviously the burning chunk hit him instead. The good news, he told himself, was that if his arm hurt this severely, it was a second-degree burn. Third-degree burns destroyed enough tissue and nerve endings that it didn’t hurt as badly. The pain was saved for later, for the skin grafts.

This was bizarre. He was almost thinking like Lori might, trying to find the little miracles in this awful situation. Was that a consequence of starting to trust God like she did? He’d have to ask her, when he could talk. And when he could talk to her. Where was she?

There was nobody else in this hospital room, a fact that surprised him. Once he knew where he was, he expected a few people around him, from nurses and doctors to his mom and Lori.

Of course the women wouldn’t be here if they were in another hospital instead. A thrill of fear coursed through him at the thought of Lori standing
over another bed like this, watching Tyler.
Please, God, let him be okay. I can take the pain. But let him be okay
. It was the last of his coherent thoughts before he drifted off in his haze of drugs and pain to where the nightmares waited.