The Firefighter's Vow. Amie Denman
now she’s decided to become a volunteer firefighter here in town. Can you believe that? She starts training next week.”
Laura swallowed back the emotion that always bubbled up when she heard, saw or thought about firefighters. Would the memory of her younger brother, Adam, getting on a plane to go west and fight wildfires always hurt so much?
“Do you think my aunt can be a firefighter?” Rebecca searched Laura’s face, but Laura quickly put on her schoolteacher smile.
“Of course I do. Anyone can be anything.” Laura hoped Rebecca never ran up against a wall she couldn’t climb and never lost her enthusiasm.
A family with two young boys approached the window and asked about renting surfboards. While Rebecca helped them, Laura picked up the phone and called two lifeguards who she knew were anxious for hours and willing to work extra shifts. She left a message for the first one, but got through to the second one and secured a replacement for the missing Jason.
As she worked through her personnel problem, she half listened to Rebecca chatting with the young family. They were from Ohio, and the boys were six and eight. None of them had ever been on a surfboard or even gone in the ocean, and Rebecca was giving them a mini-lesson with lots of hand gestures and description.
Laura hung up and approached the counter. “Why don’t you go out to the beach and help them get started,” she told Rebecca. “I’ll run the counter for a few minutes.”
“That would be great,” the mother of the two young boys said, a hopeful smile on her face. “If you don’t mind.”
“I’m happy to,” Rebecca said. “I love surfing.”
Rebecca let the boys choose from a stack of surfboards and then they bounded across the beach together. Laura leaned on the counter and watched. She breathed deeply of the ocean air, closed her eyes and listened to the sounds of the waves and people having fun. A group of young teenagers were laughing and throwing a football back and forth just on the edge of the beach, their feet splashing in the water. A beach volleyball net was set up not far away, and Laura heard the players calling out who had the ball.
A long blast of a whistle forced her eyes open and Laura immediately began scanning the beach area, looking for a sign from the lifeguard who had signaled danger. Although her job was running the business of the rental shack and overseeing summer personnel, Laura knew the basics of lifeguarding. Her experience as a high school teacher and ability to manage teenagers had recommended her for the summer job, and Laura was happy to spend her days on a beach instead of inside a classroom.
But not everything about working on a beach was fun and games. She squinted and saw a lifeguard, Kimberly, waving at someone who was very far out in the water. Were there two people out there? Laura picked up her radio and keyed the microphone. She saw a radio in Kimberly’s hand.
“They’re pretty far out,” Laura said. “Are they okay?”
“Not sure,” Kimberly said. “I don’t think they hear me, and it looks like they’re struggling.”
Kimberly was the lead lifeguard on the beach that day and had five summers under her belt working the Cape Pursuit public beach. She’d shared with Laura her excitement about having only one year of college left as she worked toward her degree in marine biology.
Laura felt her pulse in her throat, and she was glad Kimberly had enough experience to sound calm even in the face of a potential rescue.
“Do what you think you should,” Laura said. “I’ll send you some help.”
Laura keyed her radio again, catching the attention of all the lifeguards. “Activate the rescue sequence for a person too far out in the water.” When activated, the protocol called for other lifeguards to close their sections of beach, get swimmers out of the water and converge on the area in need of help. Rebecca raced back toward the beach shack as soon as she realized what was going on and stopped, breathlessly, in front of the window.
“Where do you want me?” she asked.
“Stay here and listen to the base radio. I’m going out there to see if I can help, and I’ll let you know if you need to call 911.”
Laura had been a dedicated runner for over a decade since she had joined her high school cross-country team as a sophomore. She’d been an assistant coach for the team at the high school where she had worked the past three years, and she knew a lot about controlling her breathing and pace.
None of that mattered as she raced across the beach, radio in hand, unsure what she could do but knowing she had to do something. At the very least, she had to make sure that none of the young people under her supervision got themselves killed.
The ocean roared in her ears—or was it her pulsing blood? Close up, the waves seemed much larger than they had from her post in the rental shack.
When Laura reached the edge of the surf, Kimberly was already way out in the water and another lifeguard, Jordan, was making her way out. Laura paused and evaluated the entire scene, trying to make certain the plan, as she knew it, was being followed. No swimmers were in the water, and several lifeguards patrolled long stretches of sand, making certain no one was going in. Satisfied that the entire emergency scene was under control, she returned her attention to Kimberly, who had reached the struggling swimmers.
Kimberly gave Laura the hand signal for help. Laura radioed Rebecca and told her to call 911, then laid the radio on top of her shoes, took a deep breath and plunged in.
A good swimmer but a better runner, Laura stayed on her feet as long as she could. When the waves were over her waist, she threw herself on top of the water and swam freestyle. Every ten strokes or so, she paused and looked forward, making sure she was heading for the small group that included two struggling swimmers and two lifeguards.
The undertow swirled around her legs, but she battled it. Her loose-fitting polo shirt sagged with water and slopped against her side, and her knee-length shorts grew heavy. She calmed her breathing and stayed in tight control of herself by counting each stroke.
Finally Laura reached Kimberly as she towed a swimmer in. Was the swimmer breathing? Laura searched Kimberly’s face for an answer and was reassured with a weak smile.
“They’re okay,” the lifeguard said. “Just exhausted. Jordan and I got life jackets on them and we’re bringing them in.”
“I’ll help,” Laura said. She quickly evaluated both the rescued people—two teenaged boys—and took the arm of the one who needed more help. She saw it in his panicked expression and the way he tried to fight Jordan while also clinging to her.
With one hand on the rescued teen and the other one sweeping broadly as she dug deep with her leg strength to keep moving, Laura helped the two trained lifeguards fight the waves and close the distance to the shore.
Despite the water in her face and her focus on helping the group move, Laura noticed people on the beach. An ambulance. Firefighters in navy blue pants and shirts. As she grew closer, she watched them take off their radios and shoes just as she had done and wade into the water.
Luckily for the firefighters, the five swimmers were in water they could stand up in, and they were walking clumsily the last dozen yards to the firm sand. For the first time since she had entered the water, Laura felt utter exhaustion flood her body. She felt like sinking down on the sand and taking a long nap in the sunshine.
“What do we have?” a voice asked as Laura forced her legs to carry her onto the beach while she supported the teen, whose arms were over her shoulders and Jordan’s. She knew that voice.
Laura looked up and saw Tony Ruggles from the Cape Pursuit Fire Department. He was dressed in a navy blue uniform shirt and pants, and his broad shoulders and blond hair looked exactly as she remembered. They hadn’t seen each other since the previous summer, but she knew Tony would never forget the impression she had made on him that day.
She was doing a lot better today, despite being drenched, covered in salt and sand, and wearing waterlogged